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The  Library 

of  the 

University  of  IIHnois 


</ 


JDEAJST  SWIFT 


CONTENTS. 


Swr 

188- 


memoir  of  dean  swift  « 


TRAVELS  INTO  SEVERAL  REMOTE  NATIONS  OF  TIIE 
WORLD.  IN  FOUR  PARTS.  BY  LEMUEL  GULLIVER. 


Tart  I. — A Voyage  to  Lilli  tut  ... 

Part  II.— A Voyage  to  Brobdingnag  . 

Tart  III.- A Voyage  to  Laputa,  Balnibarbi,  Lug*n« 
Glubbdubdribb,  and  Japan  - 
Part  IV.— a Voyage  to  the  Country  of  the  Houyhnhnms 


A TALE  OF  A TUB 


A FUIL  AND  TRUE  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  BATTLE  FOUGHT 
BETWEEN  THE  ANCIENT  AND  THE  MODERN  BOOKS 
IN  ST.  JAMES’S  LIBRARY  - 


A DISCOURSE  CONCERNING  THE  MECHANICAL  OPERA. 
TION  OF  THE  SPIRIT  IN  A LETTER  TO  A FRIEND* 
A FRAGMENT  


MISCELLANIES  IN  PROSE. 


Directions  to  Servants  ... 

A Complete  Collection  of  Genteel  and  Ingenious  Conversa- 

TION,  ACCORDING  TO  THF  MOST  POLlfE  MODE  AND  METHOD 
how  used  at  Court,  and  in  the  Best  Companies  of  Enc* 

Iahd.  In  Three  Oiaiooub*  . % „ 


CONTEXTS. 


I Resolutions  when  T Come  to  be  Old  • • • 

r Thoughts  on  Various  Subjects  Moral  and  Diverting 

- A Treatise  on  Good  Manners  and  Good  Breeding  • 

Hints  on  Good  Manners  • • • - • 

Character  of  Dr.  Sheridan*  . - • • 

The  History  of  the  Second  Solomon  ... 

Of  Mean  and  Great  Figures  made  by  Several  Persons 
A Tritical  Essay  upon  the  Faculties  of  the  Mind 
A Meditation  upon  a Broomstick  • 

The  Beggar’s  Opera  - - • • • 

Hints  towards  an  Essay  on  Conversation  • 

A Letter  of  Advice  to  a Young  Poet  - 
An  Account  of  the  Court  and  Empire  of  Japan 

! A Discourse  to  Prove  the  Antiquity  of  the  English  Tongue 
The  Wonderful  Wonder  of  Wonders 
^ The  Wonder  of  all  the  Wonders,  that  ever  the  World 
Wondered  at  * • • • - • 

MISCELLANIES  IN  VERSE. 

i Written  in  a I ady’s  Ivory  Table-book  - • • 

yiv  TK'JUm  Floyd  ; or,  the  Receipt  to  form  a Beauty,  1708 
Y Vanbrugh’s  House,  built  from  the  ruins  of  Whitehall  that  was  burnt 
1703  • 

The  History  of  Vanbrugh’s  House,  1708  • • • 

The  Petition  of  Mrs.  Frances  Harris  - • • • 

Epigram  on  Wood’s  Brass  Money  • • • - 

Toland’s  Invitation  to  Dismal,  to  dine  with  the  Calfs-head  Club 
1 On  the  Union  - - - - 

A Grub-street  Elegy  on  the  Supposed  Death  of  Partridge  the  Almanack 
Maker,  1708 

A Description  of  a City  Shower  • 

On  the  Little  House  by  tlfe  Churchyard  of  Castle-knock,  1710 
A Town  Eclogue,  1710  • • • • « 

The  Fable  of  Midas,  1711—1*  • • • • 

"^Cadenus  and  Vanessa  - • • • • • 

The  Faggot.  Written  when  th#  Ministry  were  at  variance  • 

Horace,  Book  I.  Ep.  VII.  - 

- Imitation  of  part  of  the  Sixth  Satire  of  the  Second  Book  of  Horace 

1714  - - - • • 

Horace,  Book  II.  Ode  I.  Paraphrased  • 

' Horace,  Book  I.  Ep.  V.  - • • 

In  Sickness.  Written  in  Ireland,  in  Oct  1^14 
The  FabL  of  the  Bitches  « • 


L* 


392 

392 

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406 

407 

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CO  A TENTS, 


Yl\ 


Horace,  Book  III.  Ode  II.  • • 

Phyllis ; or,  the  Progress  of  Love,  1716 
Horace,  Book  IV.  Ode  IX.  - • 

To  Mr.  Delacv,  LTov.  IC\  1718  • 

Stella’s  Birthday,  March  13,  1718 — 19 
Stella’s  Birthday,  1719 — 20 

To  Stella  ; who  Collected  and  Transcribed  his  Poems,  1720 
T Stella,  Visiting  me  in  my  Sickness,  1720  ^ 

To  Stella,  on  her  Birthday,  1721 — 2 - 
Stella’s  Birthday.  A great  Bottle  of  Wine,  long  bu*ied,  being  that  day 
dr.g-:p,  1732-3 

} tella  uc  Wood  Park  - • • 

To  Stella.  Written  on  the  Day  of  her  Birth,  March  *3,  1723 — 4; 

but  not  on  the  subject,  when  I was  Sick  in  Bed  - • -i| 

A Receipt  to  Restore  Stella’s  Youth,  1724  - • • 

Stella’s  Birthday,  1724-5  • '•  • ? • • 

Stella’s  Birthday,  March  13,  1726-7 

The  Progress  of  Poetry  • ••••• 

The  South-Sea  Project,  1721  - 

A Satiric^  Fdegy,  cn  the  Death  of  a Late  Famoito  Genera!,  vj/2  • 
A Quiet  Life  and  a Good  Name  • • • - • 

The  Birth  of  Manly  Virtue  - 

Verses  occasioned  by  Whitshed’s  Motto  on  his  Coach,  1724  • • 

The  Dog  and  Thief,  1726  • 

Advice  to  the  Grub-street  Verse-Writers,  1726  - • • 

On  Reading  Dr.  Young’s  Satires,  called  the  Universal  Passion  • 
The  Furniture  of  a Woman’s  Mind,  1727  • - • • 

The  Journal  of  a Modern  Lady  - • • - . 

A Dialogue  between  Mad  Mullinix  and  Timothy,  1728  • , 

Tim  and  the  Fables 
Tom  Mullinix  and  Dick 

Directions  for  making  a Birthday  Song,  1729  • • • » 

Bouts  Rimes,  on  Signora  Domitilla  - 

Helter-Skelter ; or,  the  Hue  and  Cry  after  the  Attorneys  upon  their 
Riding  the  Circuit  •••-•- 

The  Puppet-Show  •••■••* 
Drapier’s-hill,  1730  »•••••• 

The  Dean's  Reasons  for  noi  Building  at  Drapier’s  Hill  • • 

Robin  and  Harry,  >1730  •-•••• 

To  Betty  the  Gyisette,  1730 

Death  and  Daphne.  To  an  agreeable  young  Lady,  but  extremely  lean, 

1730  «•••-••- 

Daphne  «•«<*•#»* 


FAGK 

5ii 

5i3 

5M 

518 

521 

523 


524 

526 


528 

529 

530 

531 

533 

534 

539 

540 

541 
545 

545 

546 

547 

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5)5 
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5 ^>2 

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569 

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575 

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578 


y \ 


CONTENTS. 


▼iii 


The  Progress  of  Marriage  • • • • 

The  Lady’s  Dressing-Room,  1730  • • • 

Cassinus  and  Peter ; a Tragical  Elegy,  1731  • • 

A Beautiful  Young  Nymph  going  to  Bed  • • 

Strephon  and  Chloe,  1731  • - • • 

The  Dean’s  Manner  of  Living  - • • • 

On  the  Death  cf  Dr.  Swift,  Written  in  November,  1 731 
The  Beasts’  Confession  to  the  Priest,  on  Observing  how  most  Mei 
Mistake  their  own  Talents  • • * « 

The  Parson’s  Case  ..•••« 

A Love  Song,  in  the  Modem  Taste,  1733  • . < 

On  the  Words,  “Brother  Protestants  and  Fellow  Christians * 

On  the  Irish  Club,  1 733  • • • • « 

On  Poetry ; a Rhapsody,  1733  • • • « 

A Character,  Panegyric,  and  Description  of  the  Legion  Club  « 

On  a Printer’s  being  sent  to  Newgate  • - • « 

The  Day  of  Judgment  - - - • • « 

The  Description  of  a Salamander,  1705  - • « 

To  the  Earl  of  Peterborough,  who  Commanded  the  British  forces 
Spain  ------- 

A Love  Poem,  from  a Physician  to  his  Mistress,  Written  at  London 
The  Storm.  Minerva’s  Petition  - 

To  a Lady,  who  desired  the  Author  to  Write  some  Verses  upon  her 
the  Heroic  Style  -••••• 

To  Dr.  Sheridan,  1718  • • • • • 

Apollo’s  Edict.  Occasioned  by  “ News  from  Parnassus,”  1720 
The  Country  Life.  Part  of  a Summer  spent  at  Gaulstown  House,  th 
Seat  of  George  Rochfort,  Esq.  • • - • 

Bee’s  Birthday,  Nov.  8,  1726  - • • • • 

To  Janus,  on  New-Year’s  Day,  1726  - • . • 

A Pastoral  Dialogue.  Written  after  the  News  of  the  King’s  Death 
Desire  and  Possession,  1727  • • • 

On  Censure,  1727  ------ 

An  Epistle  upon  an  Epistle  from  a certain  Doctor  to  a certain  grea 
Lord,  being  a Christmas-box  for  Dr.  Delany 
A Libel  on  the  Reverend  Dr.  Delany,  and  his  Excellency  John,  Lore 
Carteret,  1729  • • - v • • 

APPENDIX  I. 

Anecdotes  of  tiie  Family  of  Swift.  A Fragment  • 
APPENDIX  IL 

On  the  Death,  of  Mrs.  Johnson  (Stella)  • 


VAGI 

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60S 


67  2 


MEMOIR 


OF 

DEAN  SWIFT* 


IN  the  records  of  distinguished  men  who  have  done  honour  to  their 
country,  no  name  has  been  more  a mark  for  slander  and  calumny, 
no  career  has  been  more  misunderstood  and  misrepresented  by  preju- 
dice and  party  rancour,  than  that  of  Jonathan  Swift.  Respecting  the 
place  of  his  birth,  the  events  of  his  college  career,  his  residence  with  Sir 
William  Temple, his  relations  with  two  beautiful  and  accomplished  women, 
the  sincerity  of  his  political  and  religious  creed,  and  of  his  warmest  per- 
sonal friendships,  charges  and  imputations  have  been  preferred  against 
him  by  successive  biographers,  critics,  and  gossip-mongers,  as  baseless 
and  unfounded  as  they  are  at  variance  with  each  other.  The  ill-dis- 
guised contempt  of  Johnson,  the  more  rancorous  hatred  ot  Jeffrey, 
and,  later  on,  the  brilliant  but  misplaced  sarcasm  and  invective  of 
Thackeray,  have  so  far  disguised  for  us  the  features  of  one  of  the  noblest 
Englishmen  of  the  last  two  centuries,  that  they  have  become  scarcely 
recognizable. 

The  honest,  if  somewhat  quaint,  narrative  of  his  life  by  Thomas 
Sheridan,  the  son  of  one  of  Swift’s  most  cherished  and  talented  per- 
sonal friends,  may  therefore — shorn  of  a little  of  its  garrulity — be 
reverted  to  with  advantage,  as  in  the  main  a trustworthy  version  of 
that  touching  and  romantic  story  of  the  struggles,  sorrows,  and  disap- 
pointments of  genius- 

After  all,  however,  the  best  commentary  on  Swift’s  life  are  his  own 
letters  and  jomnals  and  occasional  poems— and  indeed,  more  or  less, 
the  whole  br  dy  of  his  writings.  Whoever  can  read  these  honestly  and 
heir  integrity,  and  can  doubt  the  tenderness,  the  piety,  the  sincerity, 

• Abridged  from  the  original  Lite  by  Sheridan,  with  revisions  and  additions 


* 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


(1667. 


and  the  nobleness  of  Jonathan  Swift,  any  more  than  his  genius  or  his 
wit,  is  much  to  be  pitied. 

Swift  was  descended  frcra  an  ancient  family  in  Yorkshire,  of  no 
small  note,  and  considerable  property.  He  was  of  the  younger  branch.* 
His  grandfather,  the  Reverend  Thomas  Switt,  was  possessed  of  a good 
estate,  and  was  distinguished  above  any  man  of  his  station  in  life  for 
his  attachment  to  Charles  I.  and  the  sufferings  he  underwent  in  sup- 
port of  the  royal  cause,  by  which  his  fortune  was  entirely  ruined.  He 
had  ten  sons,  and  three  daughters.  Five  of  his  sons  went  to  seek  their 
fortune  in  Ireland  : the  fourth  of  whom,  Jonathan,  was  father  to  the 
subject  of  this  memoir.  He  had  married  Abigail  Erick,  a young  lady 
descended  from  an  ancient  family  of  that  name  in  Leicestershire,  but 
with  little  or  no  fortune.  He  died  young,  in  about  two  years  after  his 
marriage,  seven  months  before  the  birth  of  his  only  son  ; and  as  he 
was  but  just  beginning  the  world,  left  his  widow  in  very  distressed  cir- 
cumstances. 

Jonathan  Swift  was  born  on  the  30th  of  November,  1667, in  Hoey's 
Court,  Dublin.  When  he  was  but  a year  old,  he  was,  without  the 
knowledge  of  his  mother  or  relations,  stolen  away  by  his  nurse,  and 
carried  to  Whitehaven ,+  which  place  she  was  under  necessity  of  visit- 
ing, on  account  of  the  illness  of  a relation,  from  whom  she  expected  a 
legacy  ; and,  as  is  usual  among  Irish  nurses,  she  bore  such  an  affection 
to  the  child  that  she  could  not  think  of  going  without  him.  There  he 
continued  for  almost  three  years  ; and  she  took  such  care  of  him,  that 
he  had  learned  to  spell,  and  could  read  any  chapter  in  the  Bible,  before 
he  was  five  years  old. 

At  the  age  of  six  he  was  sent  to  the  school  of  Kilkenny,  where  during 
the  latter  part  of  the  time,  and  afterwards  at  Trinity  College,  he  had 
William  Congreve  as  a schoolfellow.  At  fourteen  he  was  admitted  into 
the  University  of  Dublin  ; the  expense  of  his  education  being  defrayed 
by  his  uncle  Godwin,  the  eldest  of  the  brothers  who  had  settled  in 
Ireland,  a lawyer  of  great  eminence,  who  had  made  considerable  sums 
of  money,  which  were  for  the  most  part  squandered  away  in  idle  pro- 
jects, by  means  of  which,  soon  after  his  nephew  had  entered  the  college, 
he  found  himself  involved  in  great  difficulties  ; and  being  father  of  a 

* For  further  particulars  of  Swift’s  family,  see  his  own  account  in  the  Ap- 
pendix to  the  present  volume. 

t He  retained  his  affection  for  Whitehaven  to  the  last,  as  if  it  were  his  native 
place ; and  when  one  of  his  friends,  who  had  spent  a little  time  there  in  1 739, 
told  him  in  the  spring  following  that  a merchant  from  thence, \vith  his  son  and 
daughter,  were  then  in  Dublin,  he  invited  them  to  dinner,  and  showed 
many  civilities  whilst  they  stayed  in  that  city. 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


1 6S6.] 


id 


numerous  offspring  by  four  wives,  he  was  under  a necessity  of  reducing 
the  stipend  allowed  to  his  nephew  for  his  support  at  the  university  as 
low  as  possible.  The  real  situation  of  uncle  Godwin’s  affairs  not  being 
then  known  to  the  world,  and  as  he  was  looked  upon  as  much  the  richest 
of  the  family,  Swift’s  other  relations  seemed  at  that  time  to  think  that 
their  aid  was  not  necessary  ; so  that  he  was  obliged  to  make  the  best 
shift  he  could  with  the  wretched  allowance  that  his  uncle  gave  him. 
Thus  was  one  of  the  most  aspiring  and  liberal  minds  in  the  world  early 
checked  and  confined  by  the  narrowness  of  his  circumstances  ; with 
this  bitter  aggravation  to  a generous  spirit,  that  the  small  pittance 
afforded  by  his  uncle,  seemed  to  him,  from  the  manner  in  which  it  was 
given,  rather  as  an  alms  doled  out  for  charity,  than  an  act  of  benefi- 
cence due  from  so  near  a relation,  who  was  supposed  by  him,  as  well 
as  by  the  rest  of  the  world,  to  b^  in  circumstances  that  might  have 
afforded  a much  more  liberal  stipend,  without  prejudice  to  his  own 
family.  Under  this  load  did  the  spirit  of  Swift  groan  for  the  space  of 
near  seven  years  that  he  resided  in  the  college  of  Dublin  ; which  made 
so  deep  an  impression  on  him,  that  he  never  afterwards  could  think 
with  patience  of  his  uncle  Godwin,  nor  could  heartily  forgive  the  neg- 
lect shown  him  during  that  time  by  his  other  relations. 

He  took  his  bachelor’s  degree  in  February  1685-6.  The  “ special 
grace  ” by  which  it  was  accorded  has  been  apparently  made  too  much 
of  by  his  biographers,  who  have  gratuitously  inferred  that  he  entirely 
neglected  the  usual  college  studies,  though  it  appears  from  an  exami- 
nation of  one  of  the  college  rolls  that  this  was  by  no  means  the  case, 
to  the  extent  surmised.  He  is  male,  it  is  true,  in  philosophy,  and  neg- 
ligenter  in  theology  ; but  in  Greek  and  Latin  he  is  bene.  He  compares 
on  the  whole  favourably  with  many  other  students  on  the  list,  some  of 
whom  are  mediocnter  in  everything  Where  the  classification  divides 
Latin  and  Greek  there  is  no  instance  of  benl  put  to  both.  And 
more  opprobrious,  superlative,  or  emphatic  terms  of  censure  than  male 
and  negligent er  are  applied  to  the  two  other  subjects,  in  which  some 
students  are  vix  medio criter  and pessime. 

Meanwhile,  his  uncle  Godwin  was  seized  with  a lethargy,  which 
rendered  him  incapable  of  business, ; and  then  it  was  that  the  broken 
state  of  his  affairs  was  made  public.  Swift  now  lost  even  the  poor 
support  that  he  had  before  ; but  his  uncle  William  supplied  the  place  of 
Godwin  to  him,  though  not  in  a more  enlarged  way,  which  could  not  be 
expected  from  his  circumstances,  yet  with  so  much  better  a grace  as 
somewhat  lightened  the  burden  of  dependence,  and  engaged  Swift’s 
gratitude  afterward,  who  distinguished  him  by  the  title  of ‘‘the  best  of  his 

£—3 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


xti 


[1689. 


relations.*  He  had  no  expectation,  however,  of  receiving  anything  more 
from  him  than  was  absolutely  necessary  for  his  support  ; and  his  chief 
hopes  now  for  anything  beyond  that  rested  in  his  cousin  WilloughbyJ 
eldest  son  of  his  uncle  Godwin,  a considerable  merchant  at  Lis* 
bon.  Nor  was  he  disappointed  in  his  expectations.  For,  soon  after 
the  account  of  his  father’s  unhappy  situation  had  reached  Willoughby 
Swift  at  Lisbon,  he,  reflecting  that  his  cousin  Jonathan’s  destitute  con- 
dition demanded  immediate  relief,  sent  him  a present  of  a larger  sum 
than  ever  Jonathan  had  been  master  of  in  his  life  before.  This  supply 
arrived  at  a critical  juncture,  when  Swift,  without  a penny  in  his 
purse,  was  despondingly  looking  out  of  his  chamber  window,  to  gape 
away  the  time,  and  happened  to  cast  his  eye  upon  a seafaring  man, 
who  seemed  to  be  making  inquiries  after  somebody’s  chambers.  The 
thought  immediately  came  into  Swift’s  head  that  this  might  be  some 
master  of  a vessel  who  was  the  bearer  of  a present  to  him  from  his 
cousin  at  Lisbon.  He  saw  him  enter  the  building  with  pleasing  expec- 
tation, and  soon  after  heard  a rap  at  his  door,  which  eagerly  opening, 
he  was  accosted  by  the  sailor  with,  “ Is  your  name  Jonathan  Swift?” 
“ Yes  !”  “ Why,  then,  I have  something  for  you  from  master  Wil- 
loughby Swift  of  Lisbon.”  He  then  drew  out  a large  leathern  bag, 
and  poured  forth  the  contents,  which  were  silver  cobs,  upon  the  table. 
Swift,  enraptured  at  the  sight,  in  the  first  transports  of  his  heart, 
pushed  over  a large  number  of  them,  without  reckoning,  to  the  sailor, 
as  a reward  for  his  trouble  ; but  the  honest  tar  declined  taking  any, 
saying  “ that  he  would  do  more  than  that  for  good  master  Willoughby.” 
This  was  the  first  time  that  Swift’s  disposition  was  tried  with  regard  to 
the  management  of  money  : and  he  said  that  the  reflection  of 
his  constant  sufferings  through  the  want  of  it,  made  him  husband 
it  so  well,  that  he  was  never  afterward  without  something  in  his 
purse. 

Upon  the  breaking  out  of  the  war  in  Ireland,  in  the  opening  of  16S9, 
Swift  determined  to  leave  that  kingdom,  and  to  visit  his  mother  at 
Leicester,  in  order  to  consult  with  her  upon  his  future  plan  of  life. 
He  was  then  little  more  than  two  months  past  his  twenty-first  birth- 
day. 

After  a residence  of  some  months  with  his  mother,  he  laid  before  her 
the  discomfort  of  his  present  situation,  and  the  gloominess  of  his  future 
prospects  ; requesting  her  advice  what  course  he  should  pursue.  She 
clearly  saw  that  her  son’s  case  required  the  assistance  of  some  power- 
ful friend.  She  recollected  that  the  wife  of  Sir  William  Temple 
was  her  relation  ; and  that  there  had  been  a long  intimacy  between 


1689-]  MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT.  xffl 

Sir  John  Temple,  father  to  Sir  William,  and  the  family  of  the  Swifts 
in  Ireland;  she  knew  also  that  a cousin  of  her  son's  had  been  chaplain 
to  Sir  William  Temple,  and  had  been  provided  for  by  him  in  the 
Church,  on  the  score  of  family  connexions.  She  accordingly  recom- 
mended her  son  to  go  to  Sir  William,  and  make  his  case  known  to 
him. 

He  followed  his  mother's  advice,  and  soon  afterwards  presented  him- 
self to  Sir  William  Temple  at  Sheen,*  requesting  his  advice  and  assis- 
tance. Sir  William  was  a man  of  too  much  goodness  and  humanity 
not  to  take  compassion  on  a young  man  born  an  orphan,  without  for- 
tune, distressed  from  his  cradle,  and  without  friends  or  interest  to  push 
him  forward  in  life  ; who  at  the  same  time  had  a double  claim  to  his 
favour,  as  related  by  blood  to  a wife  for  whom  he  had  the  highest 
honour  and  affection  ; and  as  the  offspring  of  a family  with  whom  his 
father  had  lived  in  the  closest  ties  of  friendship.  He  accordingly 
received  him  cheerfully  into  his  house,  and  treated  him  with  that  hos- 
pitable kindness  which  family  connexions  and  his  unfortunate  situation 
demanded  of  him.  Here  Swift  first  saw  Esther  Johnson,  then  a girl 
of  little  more  than  seven,  whose  mother  was  a companion  and 
governess  of  Lady  Giffard,  Sir  William  Temple  s sister.  He  became 
first  her  playmate  and  afterwards  her  instructor,  and  in  later  years 
her  name  was  destined  to  be  linked  indissolubly  with  his. 

Swift,  during  his  residence  with  Sir  William,  applied  himself  with 
great  assiduity  to  his  studies  ; in  which  for  the  space  of  eight  years  he 
was  employed,  by  his  own  account,  at  least  eight  hours  a day,  with  but 
few  intermissions.  The  first  of  these  was  occasioned  by  an  illness, 
which  he  attributed  to  a surfeit  of  fruit,  that  brought  on  a coldness  of 
stomach,  and  giddiness  of  head,  which  pursued  him  more  or  less 
during  the  remainder  of  his  life.  After  two  years'  residence  at  Moor 
Park,  his  state  of  health  was  so  bad  that  he  was  advised  by  physi- 
cians to  try  the  effects  of  his  native  air  toward  restoring  it.  In 
pursuance  of  this  advice  he  revisited  Ireland ; but  finding  him- 
self growing  worse  there,  he  soon  returned  to  Moor  Park,  where, 

* At  the  Revolution,  Moor  Park,  which  he  had  purchased  in  1686,  growing 
unsafe,  by  lying  in  the  way  of  both  armies,  Sir  William  came  back  to  the  house 
which  he  had  given  up  to  his  son  at  Sheen ; and  in  the  end  of  1689  again 
retired  to  Moor  Park.  On  a review  of  these  dates , it  will  be  seen  that  in  the 
two  years  which  Swift  passed  with  Sir  William  Temple,  he  resided  first  at 
Sheen,  where  he  had  the  honour  of  familiarly  conversing  with  King  William  ; 
and  afterwards  at  Moor  Park,  where  his  majesty  likewise  visited  Sir  William* 


xiv  MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT.  [1692. 

upon  the  abatement  of  his  illness,  he  renewed  his  application  to  his 

studies. 

It  does  not  appear  that  Sir  William  Temple  knew  anything  of  the 
value  of  his  young  guest  till  about  this  time  ; and  Swift  himselt  says 
that  it  was  then  he  began  to  grow  into  some  confidence  with  him. 
Accordingly,  we  find  that  about  this  period  he  trusted  him  with 
matters  of  great  importance.  He  introduced  him  to  King  William, 
and  suffered  him  to  be  present  at  some  of  their  conferences.*  He 
employed  him  in  a commission  of  consequence  t*>  the  king,t  when 
he  was  unable  to  attend  him  himself,  which  required  dexterity,  and 
knowledge  in  the  history  of  England.  And  above  all,  he  consulted 
him  constantly  and  employed  him  in  the  revisal  and  correction  of  his 
own  works. 

In  this  situation  Swift  continued,  still  applying  closely  to  his  studies 
till  the  year  1692,  when  he  went  to  Oxford  in  order  to  take  his 
master’s  degree,  to  which  he  was  admitted  on  the  5th  of  July  in  that 
year. 

From  Oxford  he  paid  a visit  to  his  mother,  and  then  returned  to  Moor 
Park ; not  with  a design  of  continuing  there,  for  he  now  wanted  to 
enter  into  the  world,  but  in  expectation  of  getting  some  preferment  by 
means  of  Sir  William’s  interest  with  the  king,  which  he  had  promised 
to  exert  in  his  behalf,  and  had  already  indeed  obtained  an  assur- 
ance of  that  sort  from  his  majesty.  But  Swift  at  this  time  entertained 
some  suspicion  that  Sir  William  was  not  so  forward  on  the  occasion  as 
he  could  wish y and  the  reason  he  assigned  for  it  was,  that  Sir  William 
was  apprehensive  Swift  would  leave  him , and  upon  some  accounts  he 

* Sir  William  had  been  ambassador  and  mediator  of  a general  peace  at 
Nimeguen,  before  the  Revolution.  In  this  character  he  contracted  a close 
intimacy  with  the  Prince  of  Orange  ; who,  after  he  had  ascended  the  English 
throne,  frequently  visited  him  at  Sheen,  and  took  his  advice  in  affairs  of  the 
utmost  importance.  Sir  William  being  then  lame  of  the  gout,  substituted  Swift 
to  attend  his  majesty  in  his  walks  round  the  gardens  ; who  admitted  him  to 
such  familiarity,  that  he  showed  him  how  to  cut  asparagus  in  the  Dutch  fashion ; 
and  once  offered  to  make  him  a captain  of  horse.  But  Swift  appears  to  have 
fixed  his  mind  very  early  on  an  ecclesiastical  life ; and  it  is  therefore  probable 
that,  upon  declining  this  office,  he  obtained  a promise  of  preferment  in  the 
Church  ; for  in  a letter  to  his  uncle  William,  dated  1692,  he  says,  “ I am  not 
to  take  orders  till  the  king  gives  me  a prebend.” 

t It  appears  that  Swift  had  access  to  King  William’s  ear  at  other  times, 
beside  that  of  his  residence  at  Moor  Park ; for,  in  his  letter  concerning  the 
repeal  of  the  Sacramental  Test,  written  in  i?o8,  he  says  thus,  “I  remember, 
when  I was  last  in  England,  I told  the  king  that  the  highest  Tories  we  had 
with  us  (in  Ireland)  would  make  tolerable  Whigs  there  (in  England),” 


1694- J 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


xv 


thought  hhn  a little  necessary  to  him*  Swift  was  indeed  by  this  time 
become  very  necessary  to  a man  in  the  decline  of  life,  generally  in  an 
ill  state  of  health,  and  often  tortured  with  the  most  excruciating  dis- 
orders. The  loss  of  such  a companion  as  Swift,  after  such  a long 
domestic  intimacy,  would  have  been  like  the  loss  of  a limb.  Besides, 
as  he  seems  to  have  had  nothing  so  much  at  heart  in  the  latter  part  of 
his  life  as  the  leaving  behind  him  a corrected  copy  of  all  his  writings, 
done  under  his  own  inspection,  he  could  not  bear  the  thought  that 
Swift  should  leave  him  till  that  point  was  accomplished.  He  had 
already  experienced  the  use  that  he  was  of  to  him  in  that  respect,  and 
knew  that  his  place  was  not  easily  to  be  supplied.  And  his  ill  state 
of  health  occasioned  the  work  to  advance  but  slowly,  as  it  was  only 
during  the  most  lucid  intervals  he  applied  to  it.  On  these  accounts  Sir 
William  was  in  no  haste  to  procure  any  preferment  for  his  young 
friend,  to  the  great  mortification  of  Swift.  In  this  uneasy  state  he  con- 
tinued at  Moor  Park  two  years  longer,  and  then,  quite  wearied  out  with 
fruitless  expectation,  he  determined  at  all  events  to  leave  Sir  William, 
and  take  his  chance  in  the  worlds  When  his  resolution  was  made  known 
to  Sir  William,  the  latter  received  it  with  evident  marks  of  displeasure; 
but  that  he  might  seem  to  fulfil  his  promise  to  Swift,  of  making  some 
provision  for  him,  he  coldly  told  him,  “ that  since  he  was  so  impatient, 
it  was  not  at  that  time  in  his  power  to  do  any  thing  more  for  him  than  to 
give  him  an  employment  then  vacant  in  the  office  of  the  Rolls  in  Ireland 
to  the  value  of  somewhat  more  than  a hundred  pounds  a year.”  Swift 
immediately  replied,  a that,  since  he  had  now  an  opportunity  of  living, 
without  being  driven  into  the  Church  for  a maintenance,  he  was  resolved 
to  go  to  Ireland  to  take  holy  orders.”  To  comprehend  the  full  force 
of  this  reply,  it  will  be  necessary  to  know  that  Sir  William  was  well 
acquainted  with  Swift’s  intention  of  going  into  the  Church,  from  which 
he  had  been  hitherto  restrained  only  by  a scruple  of  appearing  to  enter 
upon  that  holy  office  rather  from  motives  of  necessity  than  choice. 
He  saw  through  Sir  William’s  design,  in  making  him  the  offer  of 
an  employment  which  he  was  sure  would  not  be  accepted.  With 
greai  readiness  and  spirit  therefore,  Swift  made  use  of  this  circum- 
stance, at  once  to  show  a proper  resentment  of  the  indelicacy  of  Sir 
William’s  behaviour  toward  him,  and  to  assign  an  unanswerable 
motive  for  immediately  carrying  his  long-formed  resolution  into  action. 

* Thus  Swift  expresses  himself  in  a letter  to  his  uncle  William,  dated  Moor 
Park,  Nov.  29,  1692. 

t See  his  account  of  this  in  his  letter  to  his  cousin  Deane  Swift,  dated  June 

3,  1694. 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


*v1 


[1696. 


Their  parting  on  this  occasion  was  not  without  manifest  displeasure  on 
the  side  of  Sir  William,  and  some  degree  of  resentment,  notill-founded, 
on  the  part  of  Swift 

He  procured  a recommendation  to  Lord  Capel,  then  Lord  Deputy 
of  Ireland,  from  whom  is  uncertain,  but  it  may  be  presumed,  from  the 
smallness  of  the  provision  made  for  him  in  consequence  of  it,  that  it 
was  not  a powerful  one ; and,  therefore,  that  Sir  William  Temple  had 
no  share  in  it.  He  went  over  to  Ireland,  and  was  .ordained  in  September, 
1694,  being  then  almost  twenty-seven  years  old.  Soon  after  this,  Lord 
Capel  gave  him  the  prebend  of  Kilroot  in  the  diocese  of  Connor,  worth 
about  a hundred  pounds  a year.  To  this  place  Swift  immediately 
repaired,  in  order  to  reside  there  and  discharge  the  duties  of  his  office. 
He  now  for  the  first  time  enjoyed  the  sweets  of  independence  ; but  these 
sweets  were  not  of  long  duration,  as  he  soon  saw  that  the  scene  of  his 
independence  could  not  possibly  afford  him  any  other  satisfaction  in 
life.  He  found  himself  situated  in  an  obscure  corner  of  an  obscure 
country,  ill  accommodated  with  the  conveniencies  of  life,  without  a 
friend,  a companion,  or  any  conversation  that  he  could  relish. 

But  still  the  spirit  of  Swift  so  far  prized  liberty  above  all  other 
blessings,  that,  had  he  had  no  other  alternative,  he  would  cer- 
tainly have  preferred  that  uncomfortable  situation  to  any  state  of 
dependance.  But  he  now  began  to  feel  his  own  strength,  and, 
conscious  of  his  powers,  could  not  conceive  they  were  meant  for 
so  narrow  a sphere  as  that  of  a small  country  living.  He  felt  an 
irresistible  impulse  onoe  more  to  launch  into  the  world,  and  make 
his  way  to  a station  more  suited  to  his  disposition.  In  this  temper 
of  mind,  he  received  accounts  from  his  friends,  that  Sir  William 
Temple’s  ill-founded  resentment  had  subsided  soon  after  his  de- 
parture, and  that  he  was  often  heard  to  lament  the  loss  of  his 
company.  Soon  after,  upon  receiving  a kind  letter  from  Sir  William 
himself,  with  an  invitation  to  Moor  Park,  his  resolution  was  at  once 
fixed.  He  determined  upon  returning  to  England,  and  the  duty  was 
undertaken  during  his  absence  by  a Mr.  Winder,  to  whom  he  eventually 
resigned  the  living  in  1697-8. 

With  about  fourscore  pounds  in  his  pocket,  which  by  his  own  ac- 
count was  all  his  worldly  wealth  at  that  time,  Swift  once  more  embarked 
for  England,  and  arrived  at  Moor  Park  in  1696,  after  somewhat 
more  than  a year’s  absence. 

To  all  appearance  he  had  but  little  bettered  his  condition  by  his 
journey  to  Ireland.  He  was  now  returned  to  the  same  state  of  de- 
pendence which  had  before  proved  so  irksome  to  him  that  he  deter* 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


*699-1 


xvil 


mined  to  break  away  from  it  at  all  hazards.  But  there  were  several 
circumstances  which  contributed  to  make  his  present  state,  though  still 
dependent,  of  a very  different  nature  from  the  former.  In  the  first 
place,  his  situation  now  was  not  the  effect  of  necessity  01  constraint, 
but  the  object  of  his  choice.  In  the  next,  he  was  highly  gratified  with 
an  opportunity  of  showing  his  regard  and  attachment  to  Sir  William 
by  returning  voluntarily  to  him  when  it  was  in  his  power  to  have  lived 
independently,  though  he  scorned  to  be  compelled  into  it  from  motives 
of  necessity.  Then,  by  so  readily  complying  with  Sir  William’s  request, 
and  giving  up  all  his  visible  support  in  order  to  do  so,  he  had  laid  him 
under  such  an  obligation  as  entitled  him  to  all  future  favours  which 
it  might  be  in  his  power  to  bestow.  Accordingly  we  find  that  Swift's 
mind  being  now  perfectly  at  ease,  and  Sir  William  considering  his 
return,  with  all  its  circumstances,  in  the  most  obliging  light,  they  lived 
together  to  the  time  of  Sir  William’s  death  in  the  most  perfect  har- 
mony, and  with  marks  of  mutual  confidence  and  esteem. 

In  the  year  1699  Sir  William  Temple  died,  leaving  Swift  a small 
legacy,  and  the  care,  trust,  and  advantage  of  publishing  his  posthumous 
writings.  As  he  had  also  obtained  a promise  from  King  William  that 
he  would  give  Swift  a prebend  either  of  Canterbury  or  Westminster,  he 
thought  he  had  made  a sufficient  return  for  ail  his  merits  towards  him, 
and  that  he  left  him  in  the  high  road  to  preferment. 

Upon  the  death  of  Sir  William  Temple,  Swift  immediately  removed 
to  London  ; where  his  first  care  was  to  discharge  the  trust  reposed  in 
him — that  of  publishing  a correct  edition  of  Sir  William  Temple’s  Works; 
which  he  effected  as  speedily  as  possible,  and  presented  them  to  King 
William,  with  a*  short  dedication  written  by  himself  as  editor.  He 
thought  he  could  not  pay  a more  acceptable  compliment  to  the  king, 
than  by  dedicating  to  him  the  posthumous  works  of  a man  for  whom, 
from  his  earliest  days,  when  Prince  of  Orange,  he  had  professed  the 
highest  friendship  and  esteem ; and  with  whom  he  lived,  after  his  ar- 
rival at  the  crown  of  England,  on  the  most  intimate  footing  ; frequently 
visiting  Sir  William  in  his  retreat,  after  he  had  found  his  endeavours 
vain  to  draw  him  out  of  it,  by  the  tempting  offer  of  making  him  his  first 
minister.  There  was  another  reason,  too,  which  must  have  made  ihe 
publication  of  these  works  peculiarly  acceptable  to  the  king;  which 
was,  that  some  of  the  most  important  transactions  mentioned  in  those 
writings  were  relative  to  himself ; and  many  personal  anecdotes  w*th 
regard  to  him  were  now  brought  to  light,  which  could  have  been  dis- 
closed by  no  one  but  Sir  William,  and  which  put  the  character  of  that 
prince  in  a high  point  of  view.  On  these  accounts  Swift  thought  that 


Kviii 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


ti7oa 


such  a dedication  was  not  only  the  politest  method  of  reminding  the 
king  of  his  promise  made  to  Sir  William  Temple  in  his  behalf,  but  the 
likeliest  means  of  having  it  speedily  carried  into  execution.  However, 
as  he  did  not  find  the  event  answer  his  expectation,  he  applied  to  that 
monarch  by  memorial. 

But  after  waiting  some  time,  he  found  that  his  memorial  produced  no 
better  effect  than  his  dedication.  He  therefore  readily  accepted  of  an 
offer  made  to  him  by  Lord  Berkeley,  then  appointed  one  of  the  lords 
justices  of  Ireland,  to  attend  him  to  that  kingdom  in  the  double  capa- 
city of  chaplain  and  private  secretary. 

Swift  acted  as  secretary  to  Lord  Berkeley  till  they  arrived  at  Dublin  ; 
when  he  was  supplanted  in  that  office  by  one  Bush,  who  had  by  some 
means  ingratiated  himself  with  my  lord  ; and  representing  the  office  of 
secretary  as  an  improper  one  for  a clergyman,  he  was  appointed  in 
Swift’s  room,  Lord  Berkeley  making  the  best  apology  to  him  that  he 
could,  and  at  the  same  time  promising  to  make  him  amends  by  be- 
stowing on  him  the  first  good  church  preferment  that  should  fall  in  his 
gift.  Swift  was  not  a man  to  be  treated  in  this  manner  with  impunity. 
Accordingly,  he  gave  free  scope  to  his  resentment,  in  a severe  copy  of 
verses,  which  placed  the  governor  and  his  new-made  secretary  in  a most 
ridiculous  point  of  light,  and  which  was  everywhere  handed  about  to 
their  no  small  mortification.  Soon  after  this  the  rich  deanery  of  Derry 
became  vacant,  and  as  it  was  the  Earl  of  Berkeley’s  turn  to  present  to 
it,  Swift  applied  to  him  for  it  upon  the  strength  of  his  promise.  Lord 
Berkeley  said,  “ that  Bush  had  been  beforehand  with  him,  and  had  got 
the  promise  of  it  for  another.  Upon  seeing  Swift’s  indignation  rise  at 
this,  my  lord,  who  began  to  be  in  no  small  fear  of  hirfl,  said  “that  the 
matter  might  still  be  settled  if  he  would  talk  with  Bush.”  Swift  imme- 
diately found  out  the  secretary,  who  very  frankly  told  him  “ that  he  was 
to  get  a thousand  pounds  for  it,  and  if  he  would  lay  down  the  money  he 
should  have  the  preference.”  To  which  Swift,  enraged  to  the  utmost 
degree  at  an  offer  which  he  considered  as  the  highest  insult,  and  done 
evidently  with  Lord  Berkeley’s  participation,  made  no  other  answer  but 
this  : “ God  confound  you  both  for  a couple  of  scoundrels.”  With  these 
words  he  immediately  quitted  the  room,  and  turned  his  back  on  the 
castle,  intending  to  appear  there  no  more.  But  Lord  Berkeley  was 
too  conscious  of  the  ill  treatment  he  had  given  him,  and  too  fearful  of 
the  resentment  of  an  exasperated  genius,  not  to  endeavour  to  pacify 
him.  He  therefore  immediately  presented  him  with  the  rectory  of 
Agher,  and  the  vicarages  of  Laracor,  and  Rath-beggan,  then  vacant, 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


I70I.1 


xix 


in  the  diocese  of  Meath.*  Though  these  livings  united  did  not  make 
up  a third  of  the  deanery  in  value,  and  though  from  the  large  promises 
which  had  been  made  him,  he  had  reason  to  expect  much  greater  pre- 
ferment, yet,  considering  the  specimens  already  given  of  the  perform- 
ance of  those  promises,  Swift  thought  it  most  prudent  to  accept  of  those 
livings,  dropping  all  future  expectations  from  that  quarter.  Nor  did  he 
estrange  himself  from  Lord  Berkeley's  family,  but  continued  still  in  his 
office  of  chaplain ; to  which  he  seems  to  have  been  chiefly  induced 
from  the  great  honour  and  respect  which  he  had  for  his  excellent  lady  : 
whose  virtues  he  has  celebrated  in  so  masterly  a manner  in  the  Intro- 
duction to  the  “ Project  for  the  Advancement  of  Religion.'' 

From  this  behaviour  to  Lord  Berkeley,  we  may  judge  how  little  Swift 
was  qualified  to  rise  at  court,  in  the  usual  way  of  obtaining  prefer- 
ment ; and  we  may  estimate  the  greatness  of  his  spirit  by  the  degree 
of  resentment  shown,  in  consequence  of  ill-treatment,  to  the  man  upon 
whom  all  his  hopes  of  preferment  then  rested. 

It  was  at  this  time  that  Swift’s  true  humorous  vein  in  poetry  began 
to  display  itself,  in  several  little  pieces  written  for  the  private  enter- 
tainment of  Lord  Berkeley's  family ; among  which  was  that  incom- 
parable piece  of  low  humour,  called  “ The  humble  Petition  of  Mrs. 
Frances  Harris,  &c.” 

When  Lord  Berkeley  quitted  the  government  of  Ireland,  Swift  went 
to  reside  on  his  living  at  Laracor,  where  he  lived  for  some  time  in 
the  constant  and  strict  discharge  of  his  duty. 

It  was  in  the  early  part  of  1701  that  Mrs.  Johnson  (the  afterwards 
celebrated  Stella)  arrived  in  Ireland,  accompanied  by  another  lady  of 
the  name  of  Dingley.  Sir  William  Temple  had  bequeathed  to  Mrs. 
Johnson  a legacy  of  a thousand  pounds,  in  consideration  of  her  father's 
faithful  services,  and  her  own  rising  merits.  After  Sir  William's 
death,  she  lived  for  some  time  with  Mrs.  Dingley,  a lady  who  had  but 
a small  annuity  to  support  her.  In  this  situation  Swift  advised  his 
lovely  pupil  to  settle  in  Ireland,  as  the  interest  of  money  was  at  that 
time  ten  per  cent,  in  that  kingdom  ; and  considering  the  cheapness  of 
provisions,  her  income  there  would  afford  her  a genteel  support,  instead 
of  a mere  subsistence  in  England  ; for  the  same  reason  also  he  recom- 
mended Mrs.  Dingley  to  accompany  her.  This  proposal  was  very 
agreeable  to  both  the  ladies.  To  the  latter,  as  she  had  scarce  a suffi- 
cient income  to  subsist  on  in  England,  though  managed  with  the  ut- 
most frugality  ; to  the  former,  that  she  might  be  near  her  tutor,  whose 
lessons,  however  they  might  dwell  on  her  memory,  had  sunk  still  deepel 
• He  was  instituted  March  22,  1699-1700. 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


[1701. 

into  her  heart.  These  ladies,  soon  after  their  arrival,  took  a lodging  at 
Trim,  a village  near  Laracor,  which  was  the  place  of  Swift’s  residence. 
The  conversation  of  this  amiable  woman,  who,  by  his  own  account, 
had  the  most  and  finest  accomplishments  of  any  person  he  had  ever 
known  of  either  sex,  contributed  not  a little  to  sweeten  his  retirement. 
But  though  Stella’s  beauty  was  at  that  time  arrayed  in  all  its  pride  (she 
was  then  twenty  years  of  age)  it  appears  that  he  never  dropped  the  least 
hint  that  might  induce  her  to  consider  him  in  the  light  of  a lover.  In 
his  whole  deportment  he  still  maintained  the  character  of  a tutor,  a 
guardian,  and  a friend  ; but  he  so  studiously  avoided  the  appearance  of 
any  other  attachment  to  her,  that  he  never  saw,  or  conversed  with  her, 
but  in  the  presence  of  some  third  person.  The  truth  is,  that  Swift  at 
that  time  knew  not  what  the  passion  of  love  was  ; his  fondness  for 
Stella  was  only  that  of  an  affectionate  parent  to  a favourite  child,  and 
he  had  long  entertained  a dislike  to  matrimony.  He  seems  to  have 
been  under  the  dominion  of  a still  more  powerful  passion,  that  of  am- 
bition: a passion  which,  from  his  boyish  days,  had  taken  strong  hold 
of  his  mind,  and  never  afterwards  forsook  him  till  all  hopes  of  its 
being  farther  gratified  had  failed. 

Urged  by  this  restless  spirit,  he  every  year  paid  a visit  to  England,* 
absenting  himself,  probably  without  much  compunction,  for  some 
months  from  the  duties  of  “a  parish  with  an  audience  of  half-a-score’* 
in  hopes  of  finding  some  favourable  opportunity  of  distinguishing  him- 
self, and  pushing  his  fortune  in  the  world.  His  first  visit  to  London, 
from  the  time  he.  had  taken  possession  of  his  living,  was  in  the  year 
1701,  at  which  time  he  found  the  public  in  a ferment,  occasioned  by 
the  impeachment  of  the  Earls  of  Portland  and  Orford,  Lord  Somers, 
and  Lord  Halifax  by  the  House  of  Commons.  Upon  this  occasion 
Swift  wrote  and  published  his  first  political  tract,  entitled,  “ A Dis- 
course of  the  Contests  and  Dissensions  in  Athens  and  Rome, ” in  which 
he  displayed  great  knowledge  in  ancient  history,  as  well  as  skill  in  the 
English  constitution,  and  the  state  of  parties.  The  author  of  this 
piece  concealed  his  name  with  the  greatest  precaution,  nor  was  he  at 
that  time  personally  known  to  any  of  the  nobles  in  whose  favour  it 
seems  to  have  been  written  ; and,  indeed,  from  the  spirit  of  the  piece 

* In  April  1701,  Swift  went  to  London  ; returned  to  Ireland  in  September 
following  ; took  his  doctor’s  degree  on  16  February  after,  which  cost  him  in  fees 
and  treat  ^44  and  upwards.  In  April,  1702,  he  went  to  Leicester  to  see  his 
motner;  in  May,  to  London;  in  July,  to  Moor  Park;  in  October,  to  Ireland. 
The  next  year,  in  November,  1703,  he  went  to  Leicester  ; thence  to  London  5 
and  May  30,  1704,  returned  to  Dublin,  whence  he  went  directly  to  Laracor. 
This  he  calls,  in  his  note-book,  44  his  tenth  voyage.” 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


xxi 


*7oi.] 

itself,  we  may  see  that  Swift  was  induced  to  write  it  from  other  motives 
than  such  as  were  private  and  personal.  As  no  one  understood  the 
English  constitution  better,  so  no  one  loved  it  more,  or  would  have  gone 
greater  lengths  to  preserve  it,  than  Swift.  He  saw  clearly  that  the 
balance,  upon  the  due  preservation  of  which  the  very  life  of  our  con- 
stitution depends,  had  been  for  some  time  in  a fluctuating  state,  and 
that  the  popular  scale  was  likely  to  preponderate.  He  therefore 
thought  it  his  duty  to  lay  before  the  public  the  fatal  consequences 
of  the  encroachments  then  making  by  the  commons  upon  the  other 
two  branches  of  the  legislature ; which  he  executed  in  a most 
masterly  manner,  with  great  force  of  argument,  assisted  by  the 
most  striking  examples  of  other  states  in  similar  circumstances  ; and 
at  the  same  time  in  a style  and  method  so  perspicuous,  as  to  render  the 
whole  clear  to  common  capacities.  Another  reason  for  supposing  that 
Swift  wrote  this  wholly  from  a principle  of  duty,  is,  that  the  author 
deals  throughout  in  generals,  excepting  only  one  oblique  compliment 
to  the  four  lords  who  were  impeached  by  the  commons,  which  at  the 
same  time  served  to  strengthen  his  general  argument.  The  truth  is, 
Swift,  at  that  time,  was  of  no  party  ; he  sided  with  the  whigs  merely 
because  he  thought  the  tories  were  carrying  matters  too  far,  and  by 
the  violence  of  their  proceedings  were  likely  to  overturn  that  happy 
balance  in  our  state  so  lately  settled  by  the  revolution;  to  which 
there  was  not  a faster  friend  in  England  than  himself.  However, 
it  is  certain  that  it  remained  for  some  time  a profound  secret  to  the 
world  who  the  author  was.  And  the  first  discovery  made  of  it  was  by 
Swift  himself,  upon  the  following  occasion.  After  his  return  to  Ireland,  he 
happened  to  fall  into  company  with  Bishop  Sheridan,  of  Kilmore,  where 
this  much-talked  of  pamphlet  became  the  topic  of  conversation.  The 
bishop  insisted,  “ That  it  was  written  by  Bishop  Burnet,  and  that  there 
was  not  another  man  living  equal  to  it.*  ” Swift  maintained  the  con- 
trary ; at  first  by  arguments  drawn  from  difference  of  style,  manner, 
&c.,  and  afterwards,  upon  being  urged,  said  that  to  his  certain  know- 
ledge it  was  not  written  by  Burnet.  “ Then  pray,”  said  the  bishop, 
“who  writ  it?”  Swift  answered,  “ My  lord,  I writ  it.”  As  this  was 
the  only  instance  in  his  life  that  Swift  was  ever  known  to  have  owned 
directly  any  piece  as  his,  it  is  to  be  supposed  that  the  confession  was 
drawn  from  him  by  the  heat  of  argument. 

Early  in  the  ensuing  spring,  King  William  died  ; and  Swift,  on  his 

* When  Swift  seemed  to  doubt  Burnet's  right  to  the  work,  he  was  told  by 
the  bishop  that  he  “ was  a positive  young  man;”  and  still  persisting  to  doubt, 
that  he  was  “a  very  positive  young  man.” — Johnson. 


xxii 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


[1702. 


next  visit  to  London,  found  Queen  Anne  upon  the  throne.  It  was 
generally  thought,  upon  this  event,  that  the  tory  party  would  have  had 
the  ascendant ; but,  contrary  to  all  expectation,  the  whigs  had  man- 
aged matters  so  well  as  to  get  entirely  into  the  queen’s  confidence,  and 
to  have  the  whole  administration  of  affairs  in  their  hands.  Swift’s 
friends  were  now  in  power  ; and  the  whigs  in  general,  knowing  him  to 
be  the  author  of  the  Discourse,  considered  themselves  as  much  obliged 
to  him,  and  looked  upon  him  as  fast  to  their  party.  The  chiefs  accord- 
ingly applied  to  him  for  his  assistance  in  the  measures  which  they  were 
taking  ; and  there  is  no  doubt  that  he  had  now  a fair  opening  for  grati- 
fying his  ambition  to  the  qtmost,  only  by  joining  heartily  with  them, 
and  exerting  his  talents  on  their  side.  But  great  as  his  ambition  was, 
he  would  not  have  purchased  its  highest  gratification  at  the  expense  of 
his  principles  ; nor  would  all  the  wealth  and  honours  of  the  realm  ac- 
cumulated have  tempted  him  to  act  contrary  to  the  conviction  of  his 
mind.  Upon  examining 'into  their  new  political  system,  which  varied 
in  many  points  from  that  of  the  old  whigs,  he  considered  several  of 
their  measures  as  of  a dangerous  tendency  to  the  constitution.  Not- 
withstanding, therefore,  both  his  interest  and  personal  attachments 
were  of  their  side,  he  declined  all  overtures  made  to  him  by  the  heads 
of  the  whiggish  party,  and  after  some  time  determined  to  have  no  con- 
cern in  their  affairs.  This  conduct  in  Swift  was  so  unexpected,  for 
they  had  all  along  counted  upon  him  as  a sure  man,  that  it  met  with 
the  same  sort  of  resentment  from  the  whigs,  as  if  he  had  deserted 
their  party,  and  gone  over  to  the  enemy  ; though  Swift,  in  reality, 
so  little  liked  the  proceedings  of  either,  that  for  several  years  he 
kept  himself  entirely  a neutral,  without  meddling  in  any  shape  in 
politics. 

The  chief  reason  that  made  him  decline  any  connection  with  the 
whigs  at  that  time  was  their  open  profession  of  low  church  principles; 
and  under  the  specious  name  of  toleration,  their  encouragement  of 
fanatics  and  sectarists  of  all  kinds  to  join  them.  But  what  above  all 
most  shocked  him  was  their  inviting  all  Deists,  Freethinkers,  Atheists, 
Jews,  and  Infidels  to  be  of  their  party,  under  pretence  of  moderation, 
and  allowing  a general  liberty  of  conscience.  As  Swift  was  in  his 
heart  a man  of  true  religion,  he  could  not  have  borne,  even  in  his  pri- 
vate character,  to  have  mixed  with  such  a motley  crew.  But  when  we 
consider  his  principles  in  his  political  capacity,  that  he  looked  upon 
the  Church  of  England  as  by  law  established  to  be  the  main  pillar  of 
our  newly  erected  constitution,  he  could  not,  consistently  with  the 
character  of  a good  citizen,  join  with  those  who  considered  it  more  a« 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


xxiii 


*703-1 

an  ornament  than  a support  to  the  edifice  ; who  could  therefore  look 
on  with  composure  while  they  saw  it  undermining,  or  even  open  the 
gate  to  a blind  multitude,  to  try,  like  Samson,  their  strength  against 
it,  and  consider  it  only  as  sport.  With  such  a party,  neither  his  reli- 
gious nor  political  principles  would  suffer  him  to  join  ; and  with  regard 
to  the  tories,  as  is  usual  in  the  violence  of  factions,  they  had  run  into 
opposite  extremes,  equally  dangerous  to  the  state.  He  has  fully  given 
us  his  own  sentiments  upon  the  state  of  parties  in  those  times,  in  these 
words:  “Now,  because  it  is  a point  of  difficulty  to  choose  an  exact 
middle  between  two  ill  extremes,  it  may  be  worth  inquiring,  in  the 
present  case,  which  of  these  a wise  and  good  man  would  rather  seem 
to  avoid:  taking  therefore  their  own  good  and  ill  characters  of  each 
Mother,  with  due  abatements,  and  allowances  for  partiality  and  passion, 
I should  think,  that  in  order  to  preserve  the  constitution  entire  in  the 
church  and  state,  whoever  has  a true  value  for  both  would  be  sure  to 
avoid  the  extremes  of  whig,  for  the  sake  of  the  former,  and  the  ex- 
tremes of  tory,  on  account  of  the  latter.” 

This  was  a maxim,  which,  however  well  founded,  was  not  likely  to 
influence  the  opinion  of  many,  amid  the  violence  of  party  rage  ; how- 
ever, as  Swift  was  firmly  persuaded  of  the  truth  of  it,  it  was  by  that 
principle  he  governed  his  conduct,  though  on  that  account  he  stood 
almost  alone. 

Finding  therefore  that  he  could  be  of  no  use  to  the  public  in  his 
political  capacity,  while  things  remained  in  the  same  state,  he  turned 
his  thoughts  wholly  to  other  matters.  He  resided  for  the  greatest  part 
of  the  year  at  his  living,  in  the  performance  of  his  parochial  duties,  in 
which  no  one  could  be  more  exact ; and  once  a year  he  paid  a visit  to 
his  mother  at  Leicester,  passing  some  time  also  in  London,  to  take  a 
view  of  the  state  of  things,  and  watching  some  favourable  crisis. 

During  this  period  Swift's  pen  was  hardly  ever  employed,  except  in 
writing  sermons  ; and  he  does  not  seem  to  have  indulged  himself  even 
in  any  sallies  of  fancy,  for  some  years,  excepting  only  the  “ Meditation 
on  a Broomstick,”  and  the  “Tritical  Essay  on  the  Faculties  of  the 
Mind,”  both  written  in  the  year  1703. 

In  the  yearly  visits  which  he  made  to  London,  during  his  stay  there, 
he  passed  much  of  his  time  at  Lord  Berkeley's,  officiating  as  chaplain 
to  the  family,  and  attending  Lady  Berkeley  in  her  private  devotions. 
After  which  the  doctor,  by  her  desire,  used  to  read  to  her  some  moral 
or  religious  discourse.  The  countess  had  at  this  time  taken  a great 
liking  to  Mr.  Boyle's  Meditations,  and  was  determined  to  go  through 
them  in  that  manner  \ but  as  Swift  had  by  no  means  the  same  relish 


xxiv 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN'  SWIFT. 


tx703. 


tor  that  kind  of  writing  which  her  ladyship  had,  he  soon  grew  weary  of 
the  task;  and  a whim  coming  into  his  head,  resolved  to  get  rid  of  it  in  a 
way  which  might  occasion  some  sport  in  the  family,  for  which  they 
had  as  high  a relish  as  himself.  The  next  time  he  was  employed  in 
reading  one  of  these  Meditations,  he  took  an  opportunity  of  conveying 
away  the  book,  and  dexterously  inserted  a leaf,  on  which  he  had  written 
his  own  “ Meditations  on  a Broomstick  ;”  after  which  he  took  care  to 
have  the  book  restored  to  its  proper  place,  and  in  his  next  attendance 
on  my  lady,  when  he  was  desired  to  proceed  to  the  next  Meditation, 
Swift  opened  upon  the  place  where  the  leaf  had  been  inserted,  and  with 
great  composure  of  countenance  read  the  title,  “ A Meditation  on  a 
Broomstick.”  Lady  Berkeley,  a little  surprised  at  the  oddity  of  the 
title,  stopped  him,  repeating  the  words,  “ A Meditation  on  a Broom- 
stick ! Bless  me,  what  a strange  subject ! But  there  is  no  knowing 
what  useful  lessons  of  instruction  this  wonderful  man  may  draw  from 
things  apparently  the  most  trivial.  Pray  let  us  hear  what  he  says  upon  it.” 
Swift  then,  with  an  inflexible  gravity  of  countenance,  proceeded  to  read 
the  Meditation, in  the  same  solemn  tone  which  he  had  used  in  delivering 
the  former.  Lady  Berkeley,  not  at  all  suspecting  the  trick,  in  the  fulness 
of  her  prepossession,  was  every  now  and  then,  during  the  reading  of  it, 
expressing  her  admiration  of  this  extraordinary  man,  who  could  draw 
such  fine  moral  reflections  from  so  contemptible  a subject ; with  which 
thought  Swift  must  have  been  inwardly  not  a little  tickled,  yet  he  pre^ 
served  a most  perfect  composure  of  features,  so  that  she  had  not  the 
least  room  to  suspect  any  deceit.  Soon  after,  some  company  coming  in, 
Swift  pretended  business,  and  withdrew,  foreseeing  what  was  to  follow. 
Lady  Berkeley,  full  of  the  subject,  soon  entered  upon  the  praises  of  those 
heavenly  Meditations  of  Mr.  Boyle.  “ But,”  said  she,  “ the  doctor  has 
been  just  reading  one  to  me,  which  has  surprised  me  more  than  all  the 
rest.”  One  of  the  company  asked  which  of  the  Meditations  she  meant. 
She  answered  directly,  in  the  simplicity  of  her  heart,  “ I mean  that 
excellent  Meditation  on  a Broomstick.”  The  company  looked  at  each 
other  with  some  surprise,  and  could  scarce  refrain  from  laughing.  But 
they  all  agreed  that  they  had  never  heard  of  such  a meditation  before. 

•*  Upon  my  word,”  said  my  lady,  “there  it  is,  look  into  that  book,  and 
convince  yourselves.”  One  of  them  opened  the  book,  and  found  it 
there  indeed,  but  in  Swift's  handwriting  ; upon  which  a general  burst 
of  laughter  ensued  ; and  my  lady,  when  the  first  surprise  was  over,  en- 
joyed the  joke  as  much  as  any  of  them  ; saying,  “ What  a vile  trick  has 
that  rogue  played  me ! But  it  is  his  way,  he  never  balks  his  humour  in 
any  thing.”  The  affair  ended  in  a great  deal  of  harmless  mirth,  and 


1703.]  MEMO/A  OF  DEAN  SWIFT.  xrt 

Swift,  we  may  be  sure,  was  not  asked  to  proceed  any  farther  in  the 
Meditations. 

Though  the  greatness  of  Swift’s  talents  was  known  to  many  in  pri- 
vate life,  and  his  company  and  conversation  were  much  sought  after  and 
admired,  yet  his  name  was  hitherto  little  known  in  the  republic  of 
letters.  The  only  piece  which  he  had  then  published  was  the 
“ Contests  and  Dissensions  in  Athens  and  Rome,”  and  that  was 
without  a name.  Nor  was  he  personally  known  to  any  of  the  wits 
of  the  age,  excepting  Congreve,  and  one  or  two  more  with  whom 
he  had  contracted  an  acquaintance  at  Sir  William  Temple’s.  The 
knot  of  wits  used  at  this  time  to  assemble  at  Button’s  coffee-house  ; 
and  the  writer  had  a singular  account  of  Swift’s  first  appearance 
there  from  Ambrose  Philips,  who  was  one  of  Addison’s  little  senate. 
He  said  that  they  had  for  several  successive  days  observed  a strange 
clergyman  come  into  the  coffee-house,  who  seemed  utterly  unacquainted 
with  any  of  those  who  frequented  it  ; and  whose  custom  it  was  to  lay 
his  hat  down  on  a table,  and  walk  backwards  and  forwards  at  a good 
pace  for  half  an  hour  or  an  hour,  without  speaking  to  any  mortal,  or 
seeming  in  the  least  to  attend  to  anything  that  was  going  forward  there. 
He  then  used  to  take  up  his  hat,  pay  his  money  at  the  bar,  and  walk 
away  without  opening  his  lips.  After  having  observed  this  singular 
behaviour  for  some  time,  they  concluded  him  to  be  out  of  his  senses  ; 
and  the  name  that  he  went  by  among  them  was  that  of  ci  the  mad  par- 
son.” This  made  them  more  than  usually  attentive  to  his  motions  ; 
and  one  evening,  as  Addison  and  the  rest  were  observing  him,  they 
saw  him  cast  his  eyes  several  times  on  a gentleman  in  boots,  who 
seemed  to  be  just  come  out  of  the  country,  and  at  last  advanced  towards 
him  as  intending  to  address  him.  They  were  all  eager  to  hear  what 
this  dumb,  mad  parson  had  to  say,  and  immediately  quitted  their  seats 
to  get  near  him.  Swift  went  up  to  the  country  gentleman,  and  in  a 
very  abrupt  manner,  without  any  previous  salute,  asked  him,  “ Pray, 
sir,  do  you  remember  any  good  weather  in  the  world  ?”  The  country 
gentleman,  after  staring  a little  at  the  singularity  of  his  manner,  and 
the  oddity  of  the  question,  answered,  “ Yes,  sir,  I thank  God,  I remem- 
ber a great  deal  of  good  weather  in  my  time.”  “ That  is  more,”  said 
Swift, li  than  I can  say  ; I never  remember  any  weather  that  was  not 
too  hot  or  too  cold,  too  wet  or  too  dry  ; but,  however  God  Almighty 
contrives  it,  at  the  end  of  the  year ’tis  all  very  well.”  Upon  saying  this, 
he  took  up  his  hat,  and  without  uttering  a syllable  more,  or  taking  the 
least  notice  of  any  one,  walked  out  of  the  coff?e-house,  leaving  all 
those  who  had  been  spectators  of  this  odd  scene  staring  after  him,  and 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


xxvt 


[1704. 


still  more  confirmed  in  the  opinion  of  his  being  mad.  There  is  another 
anecdote  recorded  of  him,  of  what  passed  between  him  and  Doctor 
Arbuthnot  in  the  same  coffee-house.  The  doctor  had  been  scribbling 
a letter  in  great  haste,  which  was  much  blotted  ; and  seeing  this  odd 
parson  near  him,  with  a design  to  play  upon  him,  said,  “Pray,  sir,  have 
you  any  sand  about  you  ?’’  “No/’  replied  Swift,  “but  I have  the 

gravel,  and  if  you  will  give  me  your  letter  Pll  p-ss  upon  it.”  Thus 
singularly  commenced  an  acquaintance  between  those  two  great  wits, 
which  afterwards  ripened  into  the  closest  friendship.  After  these 
adventures  they  saw  him  no  more  at  Button’s  till  the  “Tale  of  a Tub” 
had  made  its  appearance  in  the  world,  when,  in  the  person  of  the  author 
of  that  inimitable  performance,  they  recognised  their  mad  parson. 
This  piece  was  first  published  in  the  following  year,  1704  ; and  though 
without  a name,  yet  the  curiosity  excited  by  the  appearance  of  such  a 
wonderful  piece  of  original  composition  could  not  fail  of  finding  out  the 
author,  especially  as  not  only  the  bookseller  knew  him,  but  as  the 
manuscripthad  at  different  times  been  shown.to  several  of  Sir  William 
Temple’s  relations  and  most  intimate  friends.  When  it  is  considered 
that  Swift  had  kept  this  piece  by  him  eight  years  after  it  had  been,  by 
his  own  confession,  completely  finished,  before  he  gave  it  to  the  world, 
we  must  stand  astonished  at  such  a piece  of  self-denial  as  this  must 
seem,  in  a young  man  ambitious  of  distinction  and  eager  after  fame, 
and  wonder  what  could  be  his  motive  for  not  publishing  it  sooner.  But 
the  truth  is,  Swift  set  but  little  value  on  his  talents  as  a writer,  either 
at  that  time  or  during  the  whole  course  of  his  life,  farther  than  as  they 
might  contribute  to  advance  some  nobler  ends,  which  he  had  always  in 
view. 

After  the  publication  of  this  work  Swift  wrote  nothing  of  conse- 
quence for  three  or  four  years  ; during  which  time  his  acquaintance 
was  much  sought  after  by  all  persons  of  taste  and  genius.  There  was, 
particularly,  a very  close  connexion  formed  between  Addison*  and  him, 

* In  1705,  Addison  made  a present  of  his  book  of  Travels  to  Swift ; in  ths 
blank  leaf  of  which  he  wrote  the  following  words  : 

“ To  Dr.  Jonathan  Swift, 

The  most  agreeable  companion. 

The  truest  friend, 

And  the  greatest  genius  of  his  age. 

Book  is  presented  by  his 
humble  servant, 

The  AUTHOR." 


170S.J  MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT.  xxvii 

which  ended  in  a sincere  and  lasting  friendship,  at  least  on  Swift's 
part.  Addison’s  companionable  qualities  were  known  but  to  a few,  as 
an  invincible  bashfulness  kept  him  for  the  most  part  silent  in  mixed 
companies  ; but  Swift  used  to  say  of  him,  that  his  conversation  in  a 
tete-a-tete , was  the  most  agreeable  he  had  ever  known  ; and  that  in 
the  many  hours  which  he  had  passed  with  him  in  that  way,  neither  of 
them  ever  wished  for  the  coming  in  of  a third  person. 

In  the  beginning  of  the  year  1708  Swift  published  several  pieces 
upon  religious  and  political  subjects.  That  which  regarded  religion 
chiefly,  was,  “ An  Argument  against  abolishing  Christianity,"  in  which 
he  pursues  the  same  humorous  method  which  was  so  successfully 
followed  in  the  “ Tale  of  a Tub."  Perhaps  there  never  was  a richer 
vein  of  irony  than  runs  through  that  whole  piece  ; nor  could  any  thing 
be  better  calculated  to  second  the  general  impression  made  by  the 
“Tale  of  a Tub.”  It  is  certain  that  Swift  thought  the  state  of  the 
church  in  great  danger,  notwithstanding  any  vote  of  parliament  to  the 
contrary  ; and  this  chiefly  from  a sort  of  lethargic  disorder,  which  had 
in  general  seized  those  who  ought  to  have  been  its  watchful  guardians. 
To  rouse  them  from  this  state,  he  found  tickling  to  be  more  effectual 
than  lashing  ; and  that  the  best  way  to  keep  them  wakeful,  was  to  make 
them,  laugh. 

It  was  at  this  juncture  too  that  he  chose  to  publish  his  political  prin- 
ciples. Swift  had  been  hitherto  always  classed  among  the  whigs,  as  the 
only  political  tract  of  his  which  had  been  published  was  in  their  favour 
and  as  his  chief  connexions  were  among  that  body.  The  truth  is,  that 
Swift  was  a man  of  too  much  integrity  to  belong  to  either  party,  while 
they  were  both  so  much  in  the  wrong.  This  he  himself  declared  in  the 
opening  of  the  political  tract  printed  at  this  time,  entitled,  “ The  Senti- 
ments of  a Church  of  England  Man,  with  respect  to  Religion  and 
Government,"  which  begins  with  these  words:  “Whoever  has  ex- 
amined the  conduct  and  proceedings  of  both  parties  for  some  years 
past,  whether  in  or  out  of  power,  cannot  well  conceive  it  possible  to  go 
far  toward  the  extremes  of  either,  without  offering  some  violence  to  his 
integrity  or  understanding."  His  motive  for  publishing  this  tract  at  that 
juncture, he  has  given  in  the  following  words  : “When  the  two  parties, 
that  divide  the  whole  commonwealth,  come  once  to  a rupture,  without 
any  hopes  left  of  forming  a third  with  better  principles  to  balance  the 
others,  it  seems  every  man’s  duty  to  choose  one  of  the  two  sides,  al- 
though he  cannot  entirely  approve  of  either  ; and  all  pretences  to 
neutrality  are  justly  exploded  by  both,  being  too  stale  and  obvious  $ 

C-Z 


xxviii 


MEMOIR  OF  £>EAA  SWIFT. 


[1705 


only  intending  the  safety  and  ease  of  a few  individuals,  while  the 
public  is  embroiled.  This  was  the  opinion  and  practice  of  the  lattet 
Cato,  whom  I esteem  to  have  been  the  wisest  and  the  best  of  all  the 
Romans.  But  before  things  proceed  to  open  violence,  the  truest 
service  a private  man  may  hope  to  do  his  country,  is  by  unbiassing  his 
mind  as  much  as  possible,  and  then  endeavouring  to  moderate  be- 
tween the  rival  powers  ; which  must  needs  be  owned  a fair  proceeding 
with  the  world  ; because  it  is,  of  all  others,  the  least  consistent  with 
the  common  design  of  making  a fortune,  by  the  merit  of  an  opinion.” 
Swift,  from  several  circumstances  at  that  time,  apprehended  that  the 
parties  would  speedily  come  to  an  open  rupture  ; he  therefore  thought 
it  the  duty  of  a good  citizen  to  endeavour  to  form  a third  party  out  of 
the  more  moderate  of  each,  that  should  serve  as  a check  upon  the 
violence  of  both.  With  this  view  he  represents  the  extremes  of  both 
parties,  and  the  evil  consequences  likely  to  ensue  from  each,  in  the 
strongest  light ; at  the  same  time  he  clearly  shows  that  the  moderate  of 
both  hardly  differed  in  any  material  point,  and  were  kept  asunder  only 
by  the  odious  distinction  of  a name.  He  set  down  in  this  piece  such  a 
just  political,  and  religious  creed,  so  far  as  related  to  any  connexion  be- 
tween church  and  state,  as  every  honest  subject  of  the  church  of  Eng- 
land must  at  once  assent  to.  And,  indeed,  if  it  were  in  the  nature  of 
things  that  a party  could  have  been  formed  upon  principles  of  modera- 
tion, good  rense,  and  public  spirit,  his  scheme  would  have  taken  place, 
from  the  masterly  manner  in  which  it  was  proposed.  His  design  was 
to  engage  all  those  of  both  parties  who  wished  well  to  the  Established 
Church,  to  unite  together  under  the  denomination  of  Church  of  England 
men,  instead  of  the  odious  terms  of  high  and  low  chuixh , calculated  to 
keep  up  animosity  ; and  by  so  doing,  to  leave  the  most  violent  of  both 
parties,  whose  numbers  would  in  that  case  be  much  reduced,  exposed 
to  the  world  in  their  true  colours,  merely  by  being  singled  out  in  the 
different  herds  of  their  associates.  In  that  case,  there  were  few  whigs 
so  lost  to  all  sense  of  shame  as  would  choose  to  be  one  of  a handful 
of  English  protestants  at  the  head  of  a numerous  body  of  sectaries  of 
all  kinds,  infidels  and  atheists  ; as  there  would  be  few  tories  who  would 
wish  to  appear  leaders  of  papists  and  jacobites  only.  Under  the  name 
of  Church  of  England  man,  none  of  those  enemies  to  our  constitution 
could  have  listed  ; whereas  under  the  vague  names  of  whig  and  tory, 
persons  of  all  denominations  and  principles  were  enrolled  without 
scruple  by  both,  merely  to  increase  their  numbers,  and  swell  the  cry. 
This  project  for  the  uniting  of  parties  seems  to  have  taken  strong 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT.  xxix 

possession  of  Swift,  and  not  to  have  quitted  him  for  some  time,  as 
we  find  he  mentions  it  in  a letter*  to  Colonel  Hunter,  in  the  be- 
ginning of  the  following  year.  However,  if  this  design  failed,  he  was 
determined,  whenever  matters  should  come  to  an  open  rupture  between 
the  parties,  not  to  remain  neutral ; but  to  choose  that  side  which 
upon  the  whole,  should  appear  to  him  the  best,  according  to  the 
maxim  before  laid  down.  In  order  therefore  to  render  himself  oi 
the  greater  consequence,  he  seems  to  have  exerted  himself  this  year 
in  the  display  of  his  various  talents.  Beside  the  two  admirable 
tracts  before  mentioned,  he  published  “A  Letter  from  a Member  of 
the  House  of  Commons  in  Ireland,  to  a Member  of  the  House  of 
Commons  in  England,  concerning  the  Sacramental  Test.”  As  he 
always  kept  a watchful  eye  upon  the  motions  of  the  presbyterians, 
the  intention  of  this  piece  was  not  only  to  frustrate  their  attempt  to 
get  the  Test  Act  repealed  in  Ireland,  but  also  to  alarm  the  people  in 
England,  by  showing  that  their  design  was  deeper  laid,  and  that  the 
carrying  of  it  first  in  that  country,  was  only  intended  as  a precedent 
for  doing  the  same  here. 

Early  in  1709  Swift  published  that  admirable  piece,  called  “A 
Project  for  the  Advancement  of  Religion  f in  which,  after  enu- 
merating all  the  corruptions  and  depravities  of  the  age,  he  shows 
that  the  chief  source  of  them  was  the  neglect  or  contempt  of  re- 
ligion which  so  generally  prevailed.  Though  at  first  view  this  pam- 
phlet seemed  to  have  no  other  drift  but  to  lay  down  a very  rational 
scheme  for  a general  reformation  of  manners,  yet  upon  a closer  exami- 
nation it  will  appear  to  have  been  a very  strong,  though  covert  attack, 
upon  the  power  of  the  whigs.  It  could  not  have  escaped  a man  of 
Swift’s  penetration,  that  the  queen  had  been  a long  time  wavering  in 
her  sentiments,  and  that  she  was  then  meditating  that  change  in  the 
ministry  which  some  time  afterwards  took  place.  To  confirm  her  in 
this  intention,  and  to  hasten  the  execution  of  it,  appears,  from  the 
whole  tenor  of  the  pamphlet,  to  have  been  the  main  object  he  had  in 
view  in  publishing  it  at  that  time.  For  though  it  seems  designed  for 
the  use  of  the  world  in  general,  and  is  particularly  addressed  to  the 
Countess  of  Berkeley,  yet  that  it  was  chiefly  calculated  for  the  queen’s 
perusal  appears  from  this,  that  the  whole  execution  of  his  project  de- 
pended upon  the  impression  it  might  make  upon  her  mind  ; and  the 

* “I  amuse  myself  sometimes  with  writing  verses  to  Mrs.  Finch,  and  some- 
times with  projects  for  the  uniting  of  parties,  which  I perfect  over  night,  and 
burn  in  the  morning.”  Letter  to  Col.  Hunter,  Jan,  is,  i? ©$-9. 


xxx  MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SW1F1*  [171a 

only  means  of  reformation  proposed  were  such  as  were  altogether 
in  her  own  power.  At  setting  out  he  says  : “Now,  as  universal  and 
deep-rooted  as  these  corruptions  appear  to  be,  I am  utterly  deceived 
if  an  effectual  remedy  might  not  be  applied  to  most  of  them  : neither 
am  I now  upon  a wild  speculative  project,  but  such  a one  as  may  be 
easily  put  in  execution.  For,  while  the  prerogative  of  giving  all  em- 
ployments continues  in  the  crown,  either  immediately,  or  by  subordi- 
nation, it  is  in  the  power  of  the  prince  to  make  piety  and  virtue 
become  the  fashion  of  the  age,  if,  at  the  same  time,  he  would  make 
them  necessary  qualifications  for  favour  and  preferment.”  He  then 
proceeds  to  show  the  necessity  of  her  majesty’s  exerting  her  authority 
in  this  way,  by  a very  free  observation,  couched  under  one  of  the 
finest  compliments  that  ever  was  penned  : “It  is  clear  from  present 
experience,  that  the  bare  example  of  the  best  prince  will  not  have  any 
mighty  influence  where  the  age  is  very  corrupt.  For  when  was  there 
ever  a better  prince  on  the  throne  than  the  present  queen  ? I do  not 
talk  of  her  talent  for  government,  her  love  of  the  people,  or  any  other 
qualities  that  are  purely  regal  ; but  her  piety,  charity,  temperance,  con- 
jugal love,  and  whatever  other^Virtues  do  best  adorn  a private  life ; 
wherein,  without  question  or  flattery,  she  has  no  superior  : yet  neither 
will  it  be  satire  or  peevish  invective  to  affirm  that  infidelity  and  vice 
are  not  much  diminished  since  her  coming  to  the  crown,  nor  will,  in 
all  probability,  until  more  effectual  remedies  be  provided.” 

After  the  publication  of  this  piece,  Swift  went  to  Ireland,  where  he 
remained  till  the  revolution  in  the  ministry  took  place,  which  happened 
the  autumn  of  17  jo  ; when  Harley  and  St.  John,  the  heads  of 
the  tory  party  in  the  House  of  Commons,  were  appointed  to  fill  the 
chief  offices  ; the  former  that  of  chancellor  of  the  exchequer,  the  latter 
that  of  principal  secretary  of  state.  During  this  interval,  Swift  passed 
much  of  his  time  with  Addison,  who  had  gone  over  to  Ireland  as  first 
secretary  to  the  Earl  of  Wharton,  then  lord-lieutenant  of  that  king- 
dom. By  this  means,  he  had  an  opportunity  of  being  an  eye-witness  of 
the  corrupt  administration  of  affairs  in  that  kingdom  under  that  lord’s 
government,  which  he  afterwards  exposed  to  the  wrorld  in  such  strong 
and  odious  colours.  Had  Swift  been  intent  only  on  his  own  promotion, 
it  is  probable  that  he  might  easily  have  obtained  preferment  in  Ireland 
at  that  juncture,  on  account  of  his  great  intimacy  with  the  secretary  ; 
but  he  would  have  scorned  to  pay  court  to  a viceroy  of  such  a character, 
or  even  to  have  accepted  any  favour  at  his  hands.  Upon  the  change 
of  affairs  at  court,  when  a new  ministry  was  appointed,  Swift  was  re- 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


1710.] 

quested  by  the  bishops  of  Ireland  to  take  upon  him  the  charge  of  solicit- 
ing a remission  of  the  first-fruits  and  twentieth  parts  to  the  clergy  of 
that  kingdom.  It  was  not  without  great  reluctance  that  he  accepted  of 
this  office ; but  his  regard  to  the  interests  of  the  church  outweighed  all 
other  considerations,  and  he  accordingly  set  out  for  England  as  soon 
as  his  credentials  were  ready. 

On  his  arrival  in  London  in  the  month  of  September,  1710,  he  found 
that  open  war  was  declared  between  the  two  parties,  and  raged  with  the 
utmost  violence.  There  was  no  room  for  moderating  schemes,  and 
according  to  his  own  maxim  that  a good  citizen  could  not  remain 
neutral  in  such  a situation  of  affairs,  Swift  was  to  choose  his  party,  and 
to  declare  himself  accordingly.  His  arrival  at  that  crisis  filled  the 
whigs  with  joy,  as  in  general  they  looked  upon  him  to  be  of  their  party ; 
but  the  leaders  among  them  were  not  without  their  apprehensions,  being 
conscious  of  the  ill  treatment  he  had  met  with  at  their  hands.  Of  this, 
take  the  following  account  from  Swift  himself  “ All  the  whigs  were 
ravished  to  see  me,  and  would  have  laid  hold  on  me  as  a twig  to  save 
them  from  sinking  ; and  the  great  men  were  all  making  their  clumsy 
apologies.  It  is  good  to  see  what  a lamentable  confession  the  whigs 
all  make  of  my  ill  usage.”  On  the  other  hand,  the  tories  were  exceedingly 
alarmed  at  his  arrival,  as  they  had  always  considered  him  in  the  light  of 
a whig,  and  as  the  leaders  of  their  party  had  not  even  the  least  per- 
sonal knowledge  of  him ; how  strong  their  apprehensions  must  have 
been,  we  may  judge  from  a passage  in  Swift’s  Journal  of  the  following 
year,  dated  June  30,  i/ir,  where  he  says  that  “ Mr.  Harley  and  Mr. 
Secretary  St.  John  frequently  protested,  after  he  had  become  their  inti- 
mate, that  he  was  the*  only  man  in  England  they  were  afraid  of.”  In 
such  a disposition,  therefore,  it  is  to  be  supposed  that  a visit 'from 
Swift  to  Harley  was  by  no  means  an  unacceptable  thing.  The  oc- 
casion of  this  visit  is  set  forth  at  large,  in  the  letters  which  passed 
between  Dr.  King,  Archbishop  of  Dublin,  and  Swift  Upon  hL 

* At  this  time,  and  during  his  connexion  with  the  ministry  afterward,  Swift 
kept  a regular  Journal  of  all  the  most  remarkable  events,  as  well  as  little  anec- 
dotes ; which  he  transmitted  every  fortnight  to  Esther  Johnson,  for  her  private 
perusal,  and  that  of  Mrs.  Dingley,  but  upon  condition  that  it  should  be  com- 
municated to  no  other  person  whatsoever.  This  Journal  was  luckily  preserved, 
and  has  been  published,  though  not  very  correctly.  As  nothing  could  better  show 
Swift’s  own  sentiments  with  regard  to  affairs  at  that  time,  and  the  motives  which  * 
induced  him  to  take  the  part  he  did  in  them,  than  such  a journal,  written  as  it 
were  to  the  hour,  and  transmitted  to  that  person  in  the  world  to  whom  his  heart 
was  most  open,  the  account  of  his  conduct  during  that  busy  time  will,  wherevei 
there  is  an  opportunity,  be  corroborated  by  extracts  from  it. 


xxxii 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


[1710. 


leaving  Ireland,  Swift  had  undertaken  to  solicit  the  affairs  of  the 
first-fruits  and  twentieth  parts  for  the  benefit  of  the  clergy  in  Ireland, 
which  had  been  long  depending,  and  in  vain  attempted  by  two  bishops 
sent  over  for  that  purpose  by  the  whole  body.  In  his  first  letter  to  the 
archbishop  on  that  subject,  he  says,  “ As  soon  as  I received  the  packets 
from  your  grace,  I went  to  wait  upon  Mr.  Harley.  I had  prepared  him 
before  by  another  hand,  where  he  was  very  intimate,  and  got  myself 
represented  (which  I might  justly  do)  as  one  extremely  ill  used  by  the 
last  ministry,  after  some  obligations,  because  I refused  to  go  certain 
lengths  they  would  have  me.”  He  afterwards  gives  such  an  account  of 
the  whole  transactions  as  might  be  proper  to  be  shown. 

But  in  his  Journal  he  is  more  particular  : 

Oct.  4, 1710.  “ Mr.  Harley  received  me  with  the  greatest  respect  and 

kindness  imaginable,  and  appointed  me  an  hour,  two  or  three  days  after, 
to  open  my  business  to  him.” 

Oct.  7.  “ I had  no  sooner  told  him  my  business,  but  he  entered  into 

it  with  all  kindness;  asked  me  for  my  powers,  and  read  them;  and 
read  likewise  the  memorial  I had  drawn  up,  and  put  it  into  his  pocket 
to  show  the  queen  : told  me  the  measures  he  would  take  ; and  in  short, 
said  everything  I could  wish.  Told  me  he  must  bring  Mr.  St.  John 
and  me  acquainted ; and  spoke  so  many  things  of  personal  kindness 
and  esteem,  that  I am  inclined  to  believe  what  some  friends  had  told 
me,  that  he  would  do  everything  to  bring  me  over.  He  desired  me  to 
dine  with  him  on  Tuesday  ; and,  after  four  hours  being  with  him,  set 
me  down  at  St.  James’s  coffee-house  in  a hackney  coach. 

“ I must  tell  you  a great  piece  of  refinement  in  Harley.  He  charged 
me  to  come  and  see  him  often ; I told  him  I wa^loth  to  trouble  him, 
in  so  much  business  as  he  had,  and  desired  I might  have  leave  to  come 
at  his  levee,  which  he  immediately  refused,  and  said,  4 That  was  no 
place  for  friends/  ” 

Oct.  10.  “ Harley  tells  me  he  has  shown  my  memorial  to  the  queen, 

and  seconded  it  very  heartily  ; because,  said  he,  the  queen  designs  to 
signify  it  to  the  bishops  of  Ireland  in  form,  and  take  notice  that  it  was 
done  upon  a memorial  from  you;  which  he  said  he  did  to  make  it  look 
more  respectful  to  me  ; I believe  never  was  anything  compassed  so 
soon  : and  purely  done  by  my  personal  credit  with  Mr.  Harley,  who  is 
so  excessively  obliging  that  I know  not  what  to  make  of  it,  unless  to 
%how  the  rascals  of  the  other  party  that  they  used  a man  unworthily 
who  had  deserved  better.  He  speaks  all  the  kind  things  to  me  in  the 
world.  Oct.  14.  I stand  with  the  new  people  ten  times  better  than 
ever  I did  with  the  old,  and  forty  times  more  caressed.” 


i7io.] 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT, 


xxxiiv 


When  we  consider  the  rapidity  of  Harley’s  motion  on  this  occasion 
and  the  open  freedom  of  his  behaviour  toward  Swift,  we  may  judge  of 
his  eager  desire  to  fix  him  in  their  party.  Nor  was  this  hard  to  be 
accomplished.  Swift  had  long  in  his  own  mind  been  of  their  side ; and 
he  only  waited  for  such  a favourable  juncture  as  now  offered  to  declare 
himself.  Harley’s  uncommon  condescension  flattered  his  pride  ; and 
the  obligingness  of  his  behaviour  engaged  his  friendship.  Accordingly, 
after  he  had  inquired  into  their  plan,  and  the  measures  which  they  in- 
tended to  pursue,  as  he  found  them  entirely  consonant  to  his  own 
sentiments,  he  embarked  without  hesitation  in  their  cause,  and  entered 
into  their  interests  with  his  whole  heart.  His  approbation  of  their 
measures  he  expresses  in  the  following  manner  in  his  Journal : 

Nov.  29.  “The  present  ministry  have  a difficult  task,  and  want  me. 
According  to  the  best  judgment  I have,  they  are  pursuing  the  true 
interest  of  the  public,  and  therefore  I am  glad  to  contribute  what  lies  in 
my  power.” 

The  writers  on  both  sides  had  before  this  taken  the  field,  and  at- 
tacked each  other  with  great  acrimony.  On  the  whig  side  were 
Addison,  Burnet,  Steele,  Congreve,  Rowe,  and  many  others  of  less 
note.  On  the  part  of  the  tories,  the  chief  writers  were  Bolingbroke, 
Atterbury,  and  Prior.  They  had  begun  a weekly  paper,  called  “ The 
Examiner,”  which  was  the  joint  work  of  those  three  celebrated  writers, 
and  had  published  thirteen  numbers.  But  as  soon  as  Swift  declared 
himself,  they  thought  all  aid  to  him  unnecessary,  and  the  whole  conduct 
of  that  paper  was  thenceforward  put  into  his  hands.  He  entered  the 
field  alone,  and,  with  a Samsonlike  strength,  scorned  assistance  and 
despised  numbers.  His  power  of  ridicule  was  like  a flail  in  his  hand, 
against  which  there  was  no  fence.  Though  he  industriously  concealed 
his  name,  yet  his  friend  Addison  soon  discovered  him,  and  retired  pru- 
dently from  the  field  of  battle,  leaving  the  rest  exposed  to  the  attacks 
of  this  irresistible  champion,  by  whom,  it  must  be  allowed,  they  were 
unmercifully  handled,  till,  one  after  another,  they  were  all  laid  low. 
His  first  paper  was  published  on  the  2nd  of  November,  1710,  No.  14  of 
the  “ Examiner,”  which  was  about  a month  after  his  introduction  to 
Harley;  and  he  continued  it  without  interruption  till  June,  1711, 
where  he  dropped  it,  closing  it  with  No.  45,  and  then  leaving  it  to  be 
carried  on  by  other  hands.  During  this  time  he  lived  in  the  utmost 
degree  of  confidence  and  familiarity,  not  only  with  Harley,  but  the 
whole  ministry.  St.  John  was  not  behind  Harley,  either  in  desiie  of 
cultivating  Swift’s  acquaintance  or  in  address,  which  the  following 
extract  from  the  Journal  will  sufficiently  show  ; 


cxxiv 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


[1710, 


Nov.  11,  1710.  “ I dined  to-day,  by  invitation,  with  the  secretary  oi 

state,  Mr.  St.  John.  Mr.  Harley  came  in  to  us  before  dinner,  and  made 
me  his  excuses  for  not  dining  with  us,  because  he  was  to  receive  people 
who  came  to  propose  the  advancing  of  money  to  government.  The 
secretary  used  me  with  all  the  kindness  in  the  world.  Prior  came  in 
after  dinner  ; and,  upon  an  occasion,  the  secretary  said  to  him,  ‘ The 
best  thing  I ever  read  is  not  yours,  but  Dr.  Swift’s  on  Vanbrugh/  which 
I do  not  reckon  so  very  good  neither  ; but  Prior  was  damped,  till  I 
stuffed  him  with  two  or  three  compliments.  He  told  me,  among  other 
things,  that  Mr.  Harley  complained  he  could  keep  nothing  from  me,  I 
had  the  way  so  much  of  getting  into  him.  I knew  that  was  a refine- 
ment, and  so  I told  him  ; and  it  was  so.  Indeed  it  is  hard  to  see  these 
great  men  use  me  like  one  who  was  their  betters,  and  the  puppies  with 
you  in  Ireland  hardly  regarding  me.  But  there  are  some  reasons  for 
all  this,  which  I will  tell  you  when  we  meet.” 

In  another  place,  he  says,  March  3,  1710-n:  u I dined  with  Mr. 
Harley  to-day.  Every  Saturday,  lord  keeper,  secretary  St.  John,  and  I 
dine  with  him,  and  sometimes  Lord  Rivers,  and  they  let  in  none  else. 
I stayed  with  Mr.  Harley  till  nine,  when  we  had  much  discourse  to- 
gether, after  the  rest  were  gone,  and  I gave  him  very  truly  my  opinion 
when  he  desired  it.” 

February  18,  1710-11.  “ Secretary  St.  John  would  need  have  me  dine 
with  him  to-day  ; and  there  I found  three  persons  I never  saw— two  I 
had  no  acquaintance  with,  and  one  I did  not  care  for  ; so  I left  them 
early,  and  came  home,  it  being  no  day  to  walk,  but  scurvy  rain  and 
wind.  The  secretary  tells  me  he  has  put  a cheat  upon  me,  for  Lord 
Peterborough  sent  him  twelve  dozen  flasks  of  Burgundy,  on  condition  I 
should  have  my  share  ; but  he  never  was  quiet  till  they  were  all  gone  ; 
so  I reckon  he  owes  me  thirty-six  pounds.” 

February  25.  “ I dined  to-day  with  Mr.  Secretary  St.  John,  on  con- 

dition I might  choose  my  company,  which  were  Lord  Rivers,  Lord 
Carteret,  Sir  T.  Mansel,  and  Mr.  Lewis.  I invited  Masham,  Hill,  Sir 
John  Stanley,  and  George  Granville,  but  they  were  engaged  ; and  1 did 
it  in  revenge  of  his  having  such  bad  company  when  1 ciined  with  him 
before.  So  we  laughed,”  &c. 

In  the  beginning  of  February,  there  was  a piece  of  behaviour  in 
Harley  toward  Swift  which  nettled  him  to  the  quick,  and  had  nearly 
occasioned  a breach  between  them.  Of  this  Swift  gives  the  following 
account  in  his  Journal  : 

February  6, 1710-11.  “ Mr.  Harley  desired  me  to  dine  with  him  again 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


XXXV 


I7H-5 

to-day,  but  I refused  him  ; for  I fell  out  with  him  yesterday,  and  will 
not  see  him  again  till  he  makes  me  amends.” 

February  7.  “ I was  this  morning  early  with  Mr.  Lewis,  of  the  secre- 

tary’s office,  and  saw  a letter  Mr.  Harley  had  sent  him,  desiring  to  be 
reconciled  ; but  I was  deaf  to  all  entreaties,  and  have  desired  Lewis  to 
go  to  him,  and  let  him  know  that  I expected  farther  satisfaction.  If 
we  let  these  great  ministers  pretend  too  much,  there  will  be  no  govern- 
ing them.  He  promises  to  make  me  easy,  if  I will  but  come  and  see 
him;  but  I won’t,  and  he  shall  do  it  by  message,  or  I will  cast  him  off. 
I will  tell  you  the  cause  of  our  quarrel  when  I see  you,  and  refer  it  to 
yourselves.  In  that  he  did  something,  which  he  intended  for  a favour, 
and  I have  taken  it  quite  otherwise,  disliking  both  the  thing  and  the 
manner,  and  it  has  heartily  vexed  me  ; and  all  I have  said  is  truth, 
though  it  looks  like  jest : and  I absolutely  refuse  to  submit  to  his  in- 
tended favour,  and  expect  farther  satisfaction.” 

In  a subsequent  part  of  the  Journal  he  acquaints  his  correspondent 
with  the  cause  of  quarrel. 

March  7.  Yes,  I understand  a cipher,  and  Ppt*  guesses  right,  as 
she  always  does.  He  gave  me  al  bsadnnk  Iboinlpl  dfaonr  ufainfbtoy 
dpeonufnad\ ; which  I sent  him  again  by  Mr.  Lewis,  to  whom  I wrote 
a very  complaining  letter,  that  was  showed  him,  and  so  the  matter 
ended.  He  told  me  he  had  a quarrel  with  me  ; I said  I had  another 
with  him,  and  we  returned  to  our  friendship,  and  I should  think  he 
loves  me  as  well  as  a great  minister  can  love  a man  in  so  short  a 
time.” 

Nothing  could  have  been  considered  by  Swift  as  a greater  indignity, 
than  this  offer  of  Harley’s,  which  put  him  on  the  footing  of  a hireling 
writer.  Accordingly,  he  w^as  determined  to  let  him  see  how  much  he 
had  mistaken  his  man,  by  refusing  to  see  him  again  till  he  had  asked 
his  pardon  by  a third  hand.  He  laid  hold  of  this  opportunity  to  let 
the  ministry  know  how  he  expected  to  be  treated  by  them  for  the  future: 
as  a man  who  not  only  scorned  a state  of  dependence,  but  who  could 
not  bear  anything  that  might  carry  the  least  appearance  of  it ; as  one 

* Esther  Johnson,  This  was  a part  of  the  “ little  language,”  doubtless  com- 
menced at  Moor  Park  when  she  was  a child.  Ppt  is  presumably  Poppet  or 
poor  pretty  thing.  The  Journal  has  hitherto  been  very  inaccurately  printed, 
especially  as  regards  the  “little  language.” 

T This  is  a sort  of  cipher,  in  which,  to  disguise  the  words,  superfluous  letters 
are  introduced  ; and  the  way  to  read  it  is  to  pass  over  those  letters,  and  retain 
only  such  as  will  make  out  words  and  sense,  in  the  following  manner,  where 
the  letters  to  be  retained  are  capitals.  Al  BsAdNnK  lBoInLpL  dFaOnR 
fiFalnFbToY  dPeOnUrNaD.  That  is,  A Bank  Bill  for  fifty  pound. 


XXX  vl 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


[1711 


who  entered  a volunteer  in  their  cause,  and  who  scorned  to  lie  under 
any  obligation,  or  accept  of  any  thing  to  which  he  was  not  justly  en- 
titled by  his  merits:  and,  lastly,  as  one  who,  conscious  of  his  abilities 
to  serve  the  public,  expected  to  be  considered  by  them  as  their  coad- 
jutor in  the  cause,  and  to  be  treated  on  a footing  of  entire  equality. 
Accordingly,  immediately  after  Harley  had  made  his  peace  with  him,  he 
showed,  by  an  extraordinary  piece  of  behaviour,  that  he  was  determined 
to  extract  this  from  them,  without  bating  the  smallest  article.  The 
circumstance  is  mentioned  in  the  following  passage  of  the  Journal:— 
February  12.  “ I dined  to-day  with  Mr.  Secretary  St.  John:  I went 

to  the  Court  of  Requests  at  noon,  and  sent  Mr.  Harley  into  the  house  to 
call  the  secretary,  to  let  him  know  I would  not  dine  with  him  if  he 
dined  late.” 

When  this  story  is  told  without  any  other  circumstance,  and  we  are 
informed  that  a private  clergyman,  vicar  of  a small  country  living  in 
an  obscure  part  of  the  world,  sent  the  prime  minister  of  Great  Britain 
to  bring  out  to  him  the  first  secretary  of  state  from  the  senate  house, 
where  he  was  engaged  in  the  important  business  of  the  nation,  upon  so 
frivolous  an  occasion,  we  should  be  apt  to  consider  it  was  a wanton 
exertion  of  the  most  insolent  pride.  But  when  we  reflect  that  this 
was  done  the  very  day  after  he  was  reconciled  to  Harley,  and  that  he 
took  the  first  opportunity  of  retaliating  the  slight  put  upon  him  a few 
days  before,  it  can  only  give  us  a high  opinion  of  his  magnanimity. 
Besides,  upon  this  reconciliation,  he  thought  it  necessary  to  give  both 
ministers  a specimen  of  the  terms  upon  which  alone  their  union  could 
continue,  the  principal  of  which  was  a most  perfect  equality.  How 
little  Swift  was  willing  to  allow  them  any  superiority,  may  be  judged 
by  an  expression  in  his  Journal  the  next  day  after  this  accident: — 
February  13.  “ I have  taken  Mr.  Harley  into  favour  again.” 

And  it  soon  afterwards  appeared  how  readily  these  ministers  came 
into  his  terms,  as  may  be  seen  from  the  following  passage: — 

February  17.  “The  ministers  are  good  honest  hearty  fellows:  I use 
them  like  dogs,  because  I expect  they  will  use  me  so.  They  call  me 
nothing  but  Jonathan , and  I said  I believed  they  would  leave  me  Jona- 
than as  they  found  me  ; and  that  I never  knew  a minister  do  any  thing 
for  those  whom  they  make  companions  of  their  pleasures:  and  I be- 
lieve you  will  find  it  so ; but  I care  not.” 

How  tenacious  he  was  of  his  rights  in  this  respect,  and  how  ready 
to  take  the  alarm  upon  the  least  appearance  of  their  being  infringed, 
we  may  judge  from  the  following  account  of  what  passed  between  the 
secretary  and  him,  some  time  after,  on  an  occasion  of  that  sort 


I?II  J 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


zxxvii 


April  I,  17 1 1.  “I  dined  with  the  secretary,  who  seemed  terribly 
down  and  melancholy,  which  Mr.  Prior  and  Lewis  observed  as  well  as 
I:  perhaps  something  is  gone  wrong  ; perhaps  there  is  nothing  in  it.” 

April  3.  u I called  at  Mr.  Secretary’s,  to  see  what  the  d ailed 

him  on  Sunday:  I made  him  a very  proper  speech,  told  him  I observed 
he  was  much  out  of  temper,  that  I did  not  expect  he  would  tell  me  the 
cause,  but  would  be  glad  to  see  he  was  in  better  ; and  one  thing  I warned 
him  of,  never  to  appear  cold  to  me,  for  I would  not  be  treated  like  a 
school-boy  ; that  I had  felt  too  much  of  that  in  my  life  already  5 
that  I expected  every  great  minister  who  honoured  me  with  his  ao 
quaintance,  if  he  heard  or  saw  any  thing  to  my  disadvantage,  would  let 
me  know  it  in  plain  words,  and  not  put  me  in  pain  to  guess  by  the 
change  or  coldness  of  his  countenance  or  behaviour  ; for  it  was  what 
I would  hardly  bear  from  a crowned  head,  and  I thought  no  subject’s 
favour  was  worth  it*  ; and  that  I designed  to  let  my  lord  keeper,  and  Mr. 
Harley,  know  the  same  thing,  that  they  might  use  me  accordingly.  He 
took  all  right ; said  I had  reason  ; vowed  nothing  ailed  him  but  sitting 
up  whole  nights  at  business,  and  one  night  at  drinking  ; would  have 
had  me  dine  with  him  and  Mrs.  Masham’s  brother,  to  make  up  matters, 
but  I would  not : I don’t  know  why,  but  I would  not.  But  indeed  I was 
engaged  with  my  old  friend  Rollinson ; you  never  heard  of  him  be- 
fore.” 

From  this  time  we  find  that  Swift  was  treated  by  the  ministry  with 
the  most  unreserved  confidence  in  regard  to  public  affairs,  and  with  the 
most  familiar  intimacy  in  private;  being  always  present  at  their  most 
secret  consultations  in  political  matters,  and  a constant  companion  of 
their  chosen  parties  to  enliven  the  social  hour. 

Swift  has  given  us  the  following  view  of  the  light  in  which  he  con- 
sidered the  situation  of  affairs  about  that  time.  “ March  4,  1710-n.  “This 
kingdom  is  certainly  ruined,  as  much  as  was  ever  any  bankrupt  merchant. 
We  must  have  a peace,  let  it  be  a bad  or  a good  one  ; though  nobody 
dares  talk  of  it.  The  nearer  I look  upon  things,  the  worse  I like  them. 
I believe  the  confederacy  will  soon  break  to  pieces,  and  our  factions  at 
home  increase.  The  ministry  are  upon  a very  narrow  bottom,  and  stand 
like  an  isthmus  between  the  whigs  on  one  side  and  violent  tories  on 
the  other.  They  are  able  seamen,  but  the  tempest  is  too  great,  the 
ship  too  rotten,  and  the  crew  all  against  them.  Lord  Somers  has 

* In  a subsequent  part  of  the  Journal,  he  says,  “ Don’t  you  remember  how 
I used  to  be  in  pain  when  Sir  William  Temple  would  look  cold  and  out  of 
humour  for  three  or  four  days,  and  I used  to  suspect  a hundred  reasons  ? I havo 
plucked  up  my  spirit  since  then,  ’faith  ; he  spoiled  a fine  gentleman.  n 


xxxviii  MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT.  [171  t 

been  twice  m the  queen’s  closet,  once  very  lately ; and  the  Duchess 
of  Somerset,  who  now  has  the  key,  is  a most  insinuating  woman ; 
and  I believe  they  will  endeavour  to  play  the  same  game  that  has 
been  played  against  them.  I have  told  them  all  this,  which  they 
know  already  ; but  they  cannot  help  it.  They  have  cautioned  the 
queen  so  much  against  being  governed,  that  she  observes  it  toe 
much.  I could  talk  till  to-morrow  upon  these  things,  but  they  make 
me  melancholy.  I could  not  but  observe  lately,  after  much  conver- 
sation with  Mr.  Harley,  though  he  is  the  most  fearless  man  alive, 
and  the  least  apt  to  despond,  he  confessed  to  me  that  uttering  his 
mind  to  me  gave  him  ease.” 

Swift  was  employed  chiefly  in  writing  the  “ Examiners”  till  the  be- 
ginning of  the  following  June,  when,  having  with  ease  foiled  all  his 
opponents  in  this  skirmishing  way  of  fighting,  he  retired  to  prepare  for 
the  general  engagement  expected  at  the  opening  of  the  next  campaign, 
and  which  was  likely  to  prove  decisive  with  regard  to  the  fate  of  the 
two  parties.  It  is  certain  that  his  apprehensions  for  the  side  which  he 
had  embraced  were  daily  increasing ; and,  as  he  said  himself,  “ the 
nearer  he  looked  upon  things,  the  worse  he  liked  them.”  But  his 
apprehensions  were  either  confined  within  his  own  breast  or  com- 
municated only  to  the  ministry,  excepting  in  the  Journal,  where  he 
is  wholly  without  reserve.  He  had  written  thus,  so  early  as  January  7, 
1 7 10- 1 1 : “ In  my  opinion  we  have  nothing  to  save  us  but  a peace,  and 
I am  sure  we  cannot  have  such  a one  as  we  hoped  ; and  then  the  whigs 
will  bawl  what  they  w'ould  have  done  had  they  continued  in  power.  I 
tell  the  ministry  this  as  much  as  I dare,  and  shall  venture  to  say  a little 
more  to  them.” 

Afterwards,  he  gave  an  account  of  the  danger  they  were  in  from 
the  most  violent  members  of  their  own  party. 

Feb.  18.  “We  are  plagued  with  an  October  club,  that  is,  a set  of 
above  a hundred  parliament  men  of  the  country,  who  drink  October 
beer  at  home,  and  meet  every  evening  at  a tavern  near  the  parliament, 
to  consult  on  affairs,  and  drive  things  to  extremes  against  the  whigs, 
to  call  the  old  ministry  to  account,  and  get  off  five  or  six  heads.  The 
ministry  seem  not  to  regard  them  : yet  one  of  them  in  confidence  told 
me  that  there  must  be  something  thought  on  to  settle  things  better. 
I’ll  tell  you  one  great  secret : the  queen,  sensible  how  much  she  was 
governed  by  the  late  ministry,  runs  a little  into  the  other  extreme,  and 
is  jealous  in  that  point,  even  of  those  who  got  her  out  of  the  other’s 
hands.  The  ministry  is  for  gentler  measures,  and  the  other  tories  lor 
more  violent.  Lord  Rivers,  talking  to  me  the  other  day,  cursed  the 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


acxxix 


1711.] 


paper  called  the  Examiner,  for  speaking  civilly  of  the  Duke  of  Marl- 
borough.  This  I happened  to  talk  of  to  the  secretary,  who  blamed  the 
warmth  of  that  lord,  and  some  others  ; and  swore  if  their  advice  were 
followed,  they  would  be  blown  up  in  twenty-four  hours.  And  I have 
reason  to  think  they  will  endeavour  to  prevail  on  the  queen  to  put  her 
affairs  more  in  the  hands  of  a ministry  than  she  does  at  present  ; and 
there  are  two  men  thought  on,  one  of  whom  you  have  often  met  the 
name  of  in  my  letters.” 

But  though  there  were  many  external  circumstances  which  rendered 
the  situation  of  the  ministry  very  precarious,  yet  the  chief  danger  arose 
from  themselves,  through  a want  of  concert  and  mutual  confidence,  so 
necessary  to  men  embarked  in  so  difficult  an  undertaking.  This 
was  chiefly  owing  to  the  reserve  and  mysterious  conduct  of  Harley, 
which  gave  great  umbrage  to  St.  John,  and  had  very  nearly  occa- 
sioned a breach  between  them  about  that  time,  of  which  Swift  makes 
the  following  mention  in  his  Journal: — 

August  27,  17 1 1.  “The  whigs  whisper  that  our  ministry  differ  among 
themselves,  and  they  begin  to  talk  out  the  secretary.  They  have  some 
reasons  for  their  whispers  ; though  I thought  it  was  a greater  secret. 
I do  not  much  like  the  present  posture  of  things  ; 1 always  apprehended 
that  any  falling  out  would  ruin  them,  and  so  I have  told  them  several 
times.” 

Besides  this  reserve  in  the  treasurer,  there  was  a procrastination  in 
his  temper  which  ill  suited  a juncture  of  affairs  that  required  the 
utmost  vigour  and  despatch.  And  though  the  secretary  was  a man  of 
great  parts  and  fire,  yet  had  he  such  a turn  to  dissipation  as  made  him 
lose  opportunities,  and  produced  as  ill  effects  as  the  procrastinating 
turn  of  the  treasurer.  Of  this  Swift  complains  in  the  following  passage 
of  his  Journal: — 

Oct.  31,  1 71 1.  “The  deuce  is  in  the  secretary  ; when  I w^ent  to  him 
this  morning  he  had  people  with  him  ; but  says  we  are  to  dine  with 
Prior  to-day,  and  then  will  do  all  our  business  in  the  afternoon  ; at 
tw'o  Prior  sends  word  he  is  otherwise  engaged  : then  the  secretary  and 
1 go  and  dine  with  Brigadier  Britton,  sit  till  eight,  grow  merry,  no  busi- 
ness done ; we  part,  and  appoint  no  time  to  meet  again.  This  is  the 
fault  of  all  the  present  ministers;  teasing  me  to  death  for  my  assistance, 
laying  the  whole  weight  of  their  affairs  upon  it,  and  slipping  oppor- 
tunities.” 

On  these,  and  many  other  accounts,  things  wore  but  a very  unpro- 
mising aspect  on  the  side  of  the  tories  ; especially  as  the  leaders  of  the 
whig  party  were  active,  vigilant,  let  slip  no  opportunity,  and  at  the 


x! 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


[1711 

same  time,  being  exasperated  to  the  last  degree  at  the  loss  of  their 
power,  were  determined  to  stop  at  nothing  to  compass  the  ruin  of  those 
who  had  supplanted  them.  Yet,  however  gloomy  the  prospect  might 
be,  Swift  was  not  of  a temper  to  give  way  to  despondency.  It  is  cer- 
tain that  from  the  time  he  took  a nearer  view  of  the  state  of  things  he 
had  little  hopes  that  the  cause  in  which  he  had  engaged  would  be 
brought  to  a happy  issue  ; yet  he  determined  that,  whenever  it  should 
fail,  no  part  of  the  miscarriage  should  be  laid  at  his  door  ; and  ac- 
cordingly he  exerted  himself  with  the  same  sort  of  ardour  as  is  usually 
raised  only  by  a near  prospect  of  success  upon  vigorous  measures. 
Not  content  with  performing  everything  that  was  allotted  to  him  in  his 
own  department,  he  let  no  opportunity  slip  of  urging  the  ministers  to 
do  what  was  proper  on  their  parts.  He,  with  great  freedom,  told  them 
of  their  faults  or  omissions,  sometimes  in  a serious,  sometimes  in  a 
jocose  way,  as  opportunities  offered.  There  is  a little  anecdote  of  that 
sort  which  shows  1 jw  freely  he  indulged  himself  in  this  vein.  Swift 
had  received  a present  of  a curious  snuff  box  from  Colonel  Hill,  beauti- 
fully painted  with  a variety  of  figures,  which  he  showed  to  Lord  Oxford  ; 
who,  after  having  examined  the  workmanship,  turned  up  the  bottom  of 
the  box,  where  he  spied  a figure  resembling  a goose,  studded  on  the 
outside  of  the  box  ; upon  which,  turning  to  Swift,  he  said,  “ Jonathan, 
I think  the  colonel  has  made  a goose  of  you.”  “’Tis  true,  my  lord,” 
replied  Swift,  “ but  if  you  will  look  a little  farther,  you  will  see  I am 
driving  a snail  before  me  which  indeed  happened  to  be  the  device. 
“ That’s  severe  enough,  Jonathan,”  said  my  lord,  “ but  I deserved  it.” 

On  another  occasion  he  observed  to  Lord  Bolingbroke  that  men  of 
great  parts  are  often  unfortunate  in  the  management  of  public  business, 
because  they  are  apt  to  go  out  of  the  common  road,  by  the  quickness 
of  their  imagination  : and  he  desired  his  lordship  to  take  notice  that 
the  clerks  in  his  office  used  a sort  of  ivory  knife,  with  a blunt  edge,  to 
divide  a sheet  of  paper,  which  never  failed  to  cut  it  even,  only  requiring 
a steady  hand  ; whereas,  if  they  should  make  use  of  a sharp  penknife, 
the  sharpness  would  make  it  go  often  out  of  the  crease,  ana  disfigure 
the  paper. 

These  friendly  admonitions  of  Swift,  though  they  might  sometimes 
produce  good  effects  in  particular  cases,  when  properly  timed,  yet  could 
do  but  little  toward  eradicating  faults  which  seem  to  have  been  111 
a great  measure  constitutional,  and  which  were  grown  too  strong  by 
habit  to  be  easily  overcome.  Happy  therefore  was  it  for  ihe  ministry 
that  they  had  in  Swift  such  a faithful  monitor  to  remind  them  of  their 
errors,  and  such  an  able  coadjutor  to  supply  their  deficiencies.  As  no 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


*711-3 


xli 


man  perhaps  ever  possessed  a greater  degree  of  natural  sagacity  than 
Swift,  or  was  master  of  a deeper  penetration  from  close  observations 
made  on  human  nature,  he  often  warned  the  ministers  of  dangers  in 
their  own  sphere  which  they  did  not  see,  though  they  had  the  advantage 
of  being  much  nearer  the  springs  of  action  ; but  the  acuteness  of  his 
sight  more  than  made  up  for  the  different  degrees  of  distance.  This  was 
sufficiently  shown  by  the  event,  as  all  his  conjectures  proved  to  be  well- 
founded  ; nor  was  there  a single  prognostic  of  his  that  failed.  These 
he  was  never  sparing  to  communicate  to  the  ministers,  though  the 
phlegm  of  one,  and  the  dissipation  of  the  other,  generally  rendered  such 
notices  of  little  effect.  They  were  indeed  so  very  dilatory  or  remiss  in 
their  preparations  for  the  approaching  contest,  and  their  enemies  so 
vigilant  and  active,  that  their  ruin  must  inevitably  have  been  accom- 
plished soon  after  the  meeting  of  the  parliament,  had  it  not  been  for  the 
measures  taken  by  Swift  to  prevent  it.  Finding  that  he  could  not 
rouse  the  minister  to  that  activity  which  so  critical  a juncture  required, 
he  determined  to  leave  nothing  undone  that  lay  in  his  own  power 
towards  the  support  of  the  common  cause.  There  were  two  points  which 
he  thought  of  the  utmost  importance,  and  which  therefore  demanded 
the  highest  attention  : the  one  was,  to  put  an  end  to  the  cabals  of  the 
October  club,  which  threatened  the  most  dangerous  consequences  to  the 
ministry  ; the  other  was  the  making  of  a peace  ; without  which,  it  was 
a maxim  with  him  that  the  ministry  could  not  stand.  The  first  of  these 
points  he  soon  accomplished.  He  procured  a meeting  of  some  of  the 
principal  members  of  the  club  at  the  tavern  ; where  he  gave  them  such 
cogent  reasons  for  the  conduct  of  the  ministry  as  removed  their  fears 
and  jealousies.  This  meeting  occasioned  a suspicion  in  many  of  the 
absent  members,  which  was  followed  by  a division  of  the  club  ; after 
which,  their  meetings  being  neither  so  numerous  nor  so  frequent,  they 
gradually  dwindled  away  ; and  upon  the  seasonable  publication  of  a 
little  pamphlet  by  Swift  called  “ Some  Advice  to  the  Members  of  the 
October  Club,”  they  were  in  general  so  well  satisfied,  that  their  meetings 
were  no  more  heard  of ; and  these  very  members  were  afterwards  the 
staunchest  friends  that  the  ministry  had  in  the  House  of  Commons.  The 
affair  of  the  peace  was  at  a greater  distance,  and  a point  of  infinitely 
more  difficulty.  Necessary  as  it  was  that  it  should  be  accomplished,  in 
the  disposition  that  the  nation  was  then  in,  the  ministry  did  not  even  dare 
to  hint  it,  and  there  was  but  one  way  in  which  they  could  attempt  it, 
with  the  least  degree  of  safety  to  themselves  ; and  that  was  by  raising 
such  a clamour  for  peace,  as  should  make  the  steps  taken  towards  it  by 
the  ministry  appear  to  be  in  consequence  of  the  attention  due  to  the 

d 


xlii 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


[i7it 

general  voice  of  the  nation.  This  Swift  undertook  to  accomplish  ; and 
with  that  view  he  took  uncommon  pains  in  drawing  up  that  famous 
political  tract,  called  “ The  Conduct  of  the  Allies  f the  effect  of  which 
will  presently  be  shown. 

But  Swift  had  a still  more  difficult  point  to  manage  ; and  one 
which  was  attended  with  more  immediate  danger  than  all  the  rest ; I 
mean  that  of  keeping  the  ministry  from  quarrelling  among  themselves, 
which  he  foresaw  must  end  in  their  total  destruction.*  The  treasurer 
and  secretary  were  of  such  different  dispositions,  and  so  little  agreed 
about  the  means  to  be  pursued  toward  the  attainment  of  the  common 
end  they  had  in  view,  that  it  required  the  utmost  address  to  prevent 
their  coming  to  an  open  rupture  ; which  would  probably  have  happened, 
even  at  that  critical  time,  had  it  not  been  for  Swift’s  interposition. 
Perhaps  there  was  no  man  living  so  well  qualified  for  the  office  of  a 
mediator  between  them  as  Swift.  The  case  required  the  constant 
interposition  of  some  common  friend  to  both,  who  should  not  be  sus- 
pected of  any  partiality  to  either,  or  of  any  interested  views  in  the  ad- 
vice he  should  give  : at  the  same  time  of  one,  who  would  speak  his 
mind  with  unlimited  freedom  to  each  separately,  or  both  together,  with- 
out fear  of  disobliging.  He  must  therefore  be  a man,  whose  assistance 
was  of  so  much  moment  to  each  in  the  prosecution  of  their  several 
designs,  that  neither  would  dare  to  break  with  the  other  unreasonably, 
lest  his  whole  weight  should  be  thrown  into  the  opposite  scale.  And 
perhaps  there  was  no  man  living  at.  that  juncture  who  could  perfectly 
answer  this  description  but  Swift.  Accordingly  we  find,  that  for  the 
space  of  more  than  two  years  afterwards,  though  there  was  much  ill 
blood,  and  many  bickerings  between  them,  he  kept  them  from  coming 
to  an  open  rupture;  and  the  incurable  breach  which  afterwards  ensued, 
was  made  during  his  absence  in  Ireland,  when  he  went  to  take  posses- 
sion of  his  deanery. 

In  this  critical  situation  of  affairs,  and  in  the  midst  of  that  load  of 
business  which  was  thrown  upon  Swift’s  shoulders,  let  us  stop  awhile, 
to  admire  the  vigour  and  activity  of  his  mind,  which,  at  such  a 
juncture,  could  find  leisure  to  throw  out,  as  if  it  were  a holiday  task,  his 
favourite  design  of  establishing  the  English  language  on  some  solid 
foundation. 

* In  a letter  to  the  Archbishop  of  Dublin,  dated  August  n,  1711,  he 

tays,  “ I take  the  safety  of  the  present  ministry  to  consist  in  the  agreement  of 
these  great  men,  lord  keeper,  lord  treasurer,  and  Mr.  Secretary  : and  so  I have 
told  them  together,  between  jest  and  earnest,  and  two  of  them  separately  with 
more  seriousness.” 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


xL'ii 


1711.3 

In  a letter  to  the  Archbishop  of  Dublin,  dated  July  12,  1711,  there  is 
this  passage  : “ I have  been  engaging  my  lord  treasurer,  and  the  other 
great  men,  in  a project  of  my  own,  which  they  tell  me  they  will  em- 
brace, especially  his  lordship.  He  is  to  erect  some  kind  of  society,  or 
academy,  under  the  patronage  of  the  ministers,  and  protection  of  the 
queen,  for  correcting,  enlarging,  polishing,  and  fixing  our  language. 
The  methods  must  be  left  to  the  society  ; only  I am  writing  a letter  to 
my  lord  treasurer,  by  way  of  proposals,  and  some  general  hints,  which 
I design  to  publish,  and  he  expects  from  me.  All  this  may  come  to 
nothing,  although  I find  the  ingenious  and  learned  men  of  all  my  ac- 
quaintance fall  readily  in  with  it ; and  so  I hope  will  your  grace,  if  the 
design  can  be  well  executed.  I would  desire  at  leisure  some  of  your 
grace’s  thoughts  on  this  matter.” 

As  the  time  of  the  parliament’s  meeting  approached,  which  was  to 
decide  the  fate  of  the  parties,  Swift  applied  himself  closely  to  the  finish- 
ing of  a work,  from  which  great  matters  were  expected,  toward  in- 
clining people  to  the  main  object  of  the  ministry,  a peace. 

His  first  mention  of  it  is  in  his  Journal,  Oct.  26,  1711  : — 1 “ We  have 
no  quiet  with  the  whigs,  they  are  so  violent  against  a peace  ; but  I 
will  cool  them  with  a vengeance  very  soon.  I have  written  a paper, 
which  the  ministers  reckon  will  do  abundance  of  good,  and  open  the 
eyes  of  the  nation,  who  are  half  bewitched  against  a peace.  Few  of 
this  generation  can  remember  anything  but  war  and  taxes,  and  they 
think  it  is  as  it  should  be  ; whereas  it  is  certain  we  are  the  most  un- 
done people  in  Europe,  as  I am  afraid  I shall  make  appear  beyond  all 
contradiction.” 

Upon  the  meeting  of  parliament,  on  the  7th  of  December,  1711, 
Swift’s  apprehensions  and  prognostics  proved  to  be  but  too  well 
founded.  He  saw  clearly  that  if  the  queen  did  not  stand  firm  in  sup- 
port of  the  ministry,  they  were  undone;  and  from  a knowledge  of  her 
temper,  he  dreaded  some  change  in  her,  from  the  influence  which  the 
Duchess  of  Somerset*  had  over  her  ; who  had  succeeded  the  Duchess 
of  Marlborough  in  her  favour,  and  whose  husband  was  avowedly  bent  on 
the  destruction  of  the  ministry.  His  fears  proved  indeed  to  have  been 
too  well  founded.  What  passed  on  this  occasion,  is  thus  related  in  his 
journal,  Dec.  7,  1711,  ‘‘The  Earl  of  Nottingham  began,  and  spoke 
against  a peace,  and  desired  that  in  their  address  they  might  put  in  a 

* In  a letter  to  the  Archbishop  of  Dublin,  dated  August  26,  1711,  Swift  says, 
“You  know  the  Duchess  of  Somerset  is  a great  favourite,  and  has  got  the 
Duchess  of  Marlborough’s  key.  She  is  insinuating,  and  a woman  of  intrigue  j 
and  will,  I believe,  do  what  ill  offices  she  can  to  the  secretary.” 

d—2 


rife 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


[I7U 


clause,  to  advise  the  queen  not  to  make  a peace  without  Spain  ; which 
was  debated,  and  carried  by  the  whigs,  by  about  six  voices,  in  a com- 
mittee of  the  whole  house.”  The  question  being  then  carried  against 
the  ministry,  was  no  small  surprise  to  them,  as  they  did  not  expect  it, 
though  Swift  had  often  warned  them  of  it,  and  pointed  out  the  means 
by  Which  it  would  be  effected.  But  the  behaviour  of  the  queen  upon 
that  occasion  was  such  a thunderclap,  as  perfectly  astounded  them, 
and  made  them  give  over  all  as  lost.  This  circumstance  is  thus  related 
by  Swift  in  his  Journal,  Dec.  8,  1711.  “When  the  queen  was  going  from 
the  House  of  Lords,  where  she  sat  to  hear  the  debate,  on  the  7th  of  Dec. 
1711,  the  Duke  of  Shrewsbury,  lord  chamberlain,  asked  her  majesty 
whether  he,  or  the  great  chamberlain  Lindsey,  ought  to  lead  her  out, 
she  answered  short,  4 Neither  of  you/  and  gave  her  hand  to  the  Duke 
of  Somerset,  who  was  louder  than  any  in  the  House  against  a peace.” 
This  behaviour  of  the  queen  could  be  construed  in  no  other  light  than 
a desertion  of  the  ministry,  and  accordingly  it  produced  such  an  effect, 
that  Swift  tells  us,  “the  clause  was  carried  the  next  day,  in  the  House 
of  Lords,  almost  two  to  one.”  The  consequences  of  this,  are  thus 
described  by  Swift,  in  his  “ History  of  the  Peace  of  Utrecht :” — “ When 
this  address,  against  any  peace  without  Spain,  &c.,  was  carried  in  the 
House  of  Lords,  it  is  not  easy  to  describe  the  effect  it  had  upon  most 
men's  passions.  The  partisans  of  the  old  ministry  triumphed  loudly, 
and  without  any  reserve,  as  if  the  game  were  their  own.  The  Earl  o 
Wharton  was  observed  in  the  House  to  smile,  and  to  put  his  hands  to 
his  neck,  when  any  of  the  ministry  was  speaking  ; by  which  he  would 
have  it  understood  that  some  heads  were  in  danger  Parker,  the 
Chief  Justice,  began  already,  with  great  zeal  and  officiousness,  to  prose- 
cute authors  and  printers  of  weekly  and  other  papers,  and  written  in 
defence  of  the  administration  ; in  short,  joy  and  vengeance  sat  visible 
in  every  countenance  of  that  party. 

“ On  the  other  side,  all  well-wishers  to  the  Church,  the  queen,  or  the 
peace,  were  equally  dejected  ; and  the  treasurer  stood  the  foremost 
mark,  both  of  his  enemies'  fury,  and  the  censure  of  his  friends.  Among 
the  latter,  some  imputed  this  fatal  miscarriage  to  his  procrastinating 
nature  ; others  to  his  immeasurable  public  thrift ! Both  parties  agreed 
that  a first  minister,  with  very  moderate  skill  in  affairs,  might  easily 
have  governed  the  events  ; and  some  began  to  doubt  whether  the  great 
fame  of  his  abilities,  acquifed  in  other  stations,  was  what  he  justly 
deserved.”  Swift  gives  the  following  account  of  his  first  interview 
with  the  lord  treasurer  on  this  occasion,  in  his  journal,  Dec.  8,  17 11 

Mr.  Masham  begged  us  to  stay,  because  lord  treasurer  would  call, 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


•7”] 


xbf 


and  we  were  resolved  to  fall  on  him  about  his  negligence  in  securing  a 
majority.  He  came,  and  appeared  in  good  humour,  as  usual,  but  I 
thought  his  countenance  was  much  cast  down.  I rallied  him,  and 
desired  him  to  give  me  his  staff,  which  he  did  : I told  him,  if  he  would 
secure  it  me  a week,  I would  set  all  right ; he  asked,  how?  I said, 
I would  immediately  turn  Lord  Marlborough,  his  two  daughters,  the 
Duke  and  Duchess  of  Somerset,  and  Lord  Cholmondeiey,  out  of  all 
their  employments  ; and  I believe  he  had  not  a friend  but  was  of  my 
opinion.  Arbuthnot  asked,  how  he  came  not  to  secure  a majority  ? 
He  could  answer  nothing,  but  that  he  could  not  help  it,  if  people  would 
lie  and  forswear.  A poor  answer  for  a great  minister.  There  fell  from 
him  a scripture  expression,  that  the  hearts  of  kings  are  unsearchable . 
I told  him  it  was  what  I feared,  and  was  from  him  the  worst  news  he 
could  tell  me.  I begged  him  to  know  what  he  had  to  trust  to  : he  stuck 
a little,  but  at  last  bid  me  not  fear,  for  all  would  be  well  yet.” 

Swift’s  private  sentiments  on  the  occasion,  are  thus  expressed  in  his 
Journal,  Dec.  8,  17 n.  “ This  is  a long  Journal,  and  of  a day  that  may 
produce  great  alterations,  and  hazard  the  ruin  of  England.  The  whigs 
are  all  in  triumph,  they  foretold  how  all  this  would  be,  but  we  thought 
it  boasting.  Nay,  they  say  the  parliament  should  be  dissolved  before 
Christmas,  and  perhaps  it  may.  This  is  all  your  d d d — of  Somer- 

set’s doing  : I warned  the  ministers  of  it  nine  months  ago,  and  a 
hundred  times  since.  The  secretary  always  dreaded  it.  I told  lord 
treasurer  I should  have  the  advantage  of  him,  for  he  would  lose  his 
head,  and  I should  only  be  hanged,  and  so  carry  my  body  entire  to  the 
grave.” 

Dec.  15,  17 1 1.  “ Here  are  the  first  steps  toward  the  ruin  of  an  ex- 

cellent ministry,  for  I look  upon  them  as  certainly  ruined.  Some  are  of 
opinion  the  whole  ministry  will  give  up  their  places  next  week  ; others 
imagine  when  the  session  is  over.  I do  resolve,  if  they  give  up,  or  are 
turned  out  soon,  to  retire  for  some  months,  and  I have  pitched  upon  the 
place  already  ; I would  be  out  of  the  way  upon  the  first  of  the  fer- 
ment ; for  they  lay  all  things  upon  me,  even  some  I have  never  read.” 

Lord  Oxford  now  perceived  the  ill  effects  of  his  too  great  security ; 
but,  as  he  was  a man  of  great  firmness  of  mind,  instead  of  being 
daunted  at  the  dangerous  situation  of  affairs,  he  applied  himself  vigor- 
ously to  retrieve  what  had  been  lost.  Swift  speaks  of  him  as  a man 
fruitful  in  expedients,  and  says,  " He  never  wanted  a reserve  upon  any 
emergency,  which  would  appear  desperate  to  others  and  never  did 
any  occasion  call  more  for  the  exertion  of  such  talents.  The  first 
necessary  step  was  to  get  the  queen  back  out  of  the  hands  into  which 


xlvi 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT, \ 


[I7it 


she  had  fallen,  and  then  to  fix  her  steadily  in  the  pursuit  of  his 
measures.  He  had  the  address  very  soon  to  regain  the  queen’s  favour 
and  confidence  : and  the  first  use  he  made  of  it  was  to  restore  the  ma- 
jority he  had  lost  in  the  house  of  lords,  by  engaging  her  to  create 
twelve  new  peers  at  once.  This,  it  must  be  allowed,  was  a desperate 
step,  but  the  desperate  state  of  their  affairs  required  it.  Swift  in- speak- 
ing of  this  point,  says,  “ Yet,  after  all,  it  is  a strange  unhappy  necessity, 
of  making  so  many  peers  together  ; but  the  queen  has  drawn  it  upon 
herself,  by  her  trimming  and  moderation.’’  This  could  not  fail, 
however,  of  raising  great  clamours  and  jealousies  in  the  people. 

**  The  adverse  party,”  says  Swift  in  his  History,  “ being  thus  driven 
down  by  open  force,  had  nothing  left  but  to  complain,  which  they 
loudly  did,  that  it  was  a pernicious  example  set  for  all  ill  princes 
to  follow,  who,  by  the  same  rule,  might  make  at  any  time  a hundred 
as  well  as  twelve  ; and  by  these  means  become  masters  of  the  house 
of  lords,  whenever  they  pleased,  which  would  be  dangerous  to  our 
liberties.” 

This  unpopular  measure  was  quickly  followed  by  another,  which 
raised  a universal  clamour  both  at  home  and  abroad  ; and  that  was, 
the  dismissing  of  the  duke  of  Marlborough  from  ail  his  employments. 
This  act,  whatever  danger  might  attend  it,  was,  to  the  ministry,  an  act  I 
of  necessity  ; for  matters  were  then  carried  to  such  a height  that  there 
was  no  alternative  but  either  the  duke,  or  the  ministry,  must  fall.  , 
However,  though  it  kept  them  in  for  the  time,  it  rendered  their  situation  > 
exceedingly  precarious.  The  people,  alarmed  at  the  dismissal  of  so 
great  and  fortunate  a general,  in  the  midst  of  war,  expected  nothing  to 
follow,  but  a shameful  peace.  The  clamour  for  the  continuance  of  the 
war  became  louder  than  ever,  which  was  helped  on  by  the  presence  of 
prince  Eugene,  who  had  lately  arrived  in  England,  with  the  largest 
proposals  from  the  emperor  for  that  purpose.  All  the  envoys  from  the  ( 
allies  bestirred  themselves  everywhere  to  raise  a spirit  for  war ; and  « 
the  whigs,  enraged  to  the  last  degree  at  the  total  loss  of  their  power 
by  the  tall  of  their  chief,  left  no  stone  unturned  to  rouse  the  people.  In  ; 
a short  time  the  nation  seemed  to  have  .but  one  voice,  which  was  for 
the  continuance  of  the  war  ; and  it  was  certain  that  if  the  ministry 
could  not  carry  a peace,  it  was  impossible  they  should  stand.  In  this 
critical  situation  of  affairs  it  was  that  Swift’s  talents  shone  forth  in 
their  highest  lustre.  It  was  at  this  juncture  that  his  celebrated  political 
tract,  called  “ The  Conduct  of  the  Allies,”  produced  such  marvellous 
effects.  Never  did  anything  of  that  nature  cause  so  sudden  a change 
in  the  minds  of  the  people.  It  immediately  passed  through  seven 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


xlvii 


1712.] 


editions,  and  eleven  thousand  copies  were  sold  in  less  than  a month. 
The  members  during  the  recess  had  full  time  to  read  and  consider  it 
well;  and  Swift,  in  his  Journal,  gives  the*  following  account  of  the 
effects  which  it  produced.  “ Feb.  4,  1711.  The  house  of  commons  have 
this  day  made  many  severe  votes  about  our  being  abused  by  our  allies. 
Those  who  spoke,  drew  all  their  arguments  from  my  book,  and  their 
votes  confirm  all  I wrote.  The  court  had  a majority  of  150.  All  agree, 
that  it  was  my  book  that  spirited  them  to  these  resolutions.”  And 
shortly  afterward,  speaking  on  the  same  subject,  he  says,  Feb  8.  “The 
resolutions,  printed  the  other  day  in  the  votes,  are  almost  quotations 
from  it,  and  would  never  have  passed,  if  that  book  had  not  been 
written.”  That  Swift  had  taken  uncommon  pains  about  this  tract, 
appears  from  another  passage,  where  he  says,  u It  is  fit  it  should  answer 
the  pains  I have  been  at  about  it.”  Thus  did  the  author  amply  fulfil 
his  prediction  with  regard  to  this  book,  in  a passage  before  cited,  where 
he  says,  “ We  have  no  quiet  with  the  whigs,  they  are  so  violent  against 
a peace  ; but  I will  cool  them  with  a vengeance  very  soon.”  The  voice 
of  the  commons  was  immediately  backed  by  a great  majority  without 
doors,  who  were  mad§  converts  by  the  same  arguments.  Thus  was  the 
ministry  indebted  to  Swift,  not  only  for  their  immediate  preservation 
from  a destruction  which  seemed  inevitable,  but  for  such  a solid 
establishment  in  future,  as  could  neither  be  undermined  nor  shaken  by 
the  arts  or  violence  of  their  enemies  ; and  they  had  nothing  to  fear,  but 
from  their  own  dissensions  among  themselves.  After  so  signal  a service 
it  is  no  wonder  that  he  grew  into  the  deepest  confidence  with  them, 
and  that  they  ever  after  cherished  him  in  their  bosoms. 

As  the  ministry  were  now  at  full  liberty  to  pursue  their  political  plan 
with  security,  and  to  take  all  proper  measures  toward  bringing  about  a 
peace,  Swift,  whose  active  spirit  seems  to  have  known  no  rest  at  that 
juncture,  and  who  was  eager  to  make  use  of  the  influence  he  had  ob- 
tained, toward  doing  some  great  public  good,  laid  hold  of  this  oppor- 
tunity to  press  his  plan  of  an  academy.  In  a letter  to  the  archbishop 
of  Dublin,  March  29,  1712,  he  says,  “ I lately  wrote  a letter  of  about 
thirty  pages  to  lord  treasurer,  by  way  of  proposal  for  an  academy,  to 
correct,  enlarge,  and  ascertain  the  English  language  : and  he  and  I 
have  named  above  twenty  persons  of  both  parties  to  be  members.  I 
will  shortly  print  the  letter,  and  I hope  something  will  come  of  it. 
Your  grace  sees  I am  a projector  too.”  In  a subsequent  one,  he  says, 
upon  the  same  subject,  “ My  lord  treasurer  has  often  promised  he  will 
advance  my  design  of  an  academy,  so  have  my  lord  keeper,  and  all  the 
ministers  ; but  they  are  too  busy  to  think  of  anything  beside  what  they 


xlviii 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


[171* 


have  upon  the  anvil.  My  lord  treasurer  and  I have  already  pitched 
upon  twenty  members  of  both  parties  ; but  perhaps  it  may  all  come  to 
nothing.” 

And  afterwards,  in  another  letter,  he  says,  “ As  for  an  academy  to 
correct  and  settle  our  language,  lord  treasurer  talked  of  it  often  very 
warmly  ; but  I doubt  is  yet  too  busy  until  the  peace  be  over.” 

Swift  indeed  soon  found,  that  his  eagerness  to  accomplish,  a point  i 
which  he  had  so  much  at  heart,  had  made  him  push  it  at  an  improper  : 
season  ; not  only  as  the  hands  of  the  ministry  were  full,  but  as  he  him- 
self  had  work  enough  cut  out  for  him  of  another  kind.  A numerous 
body  of  the  whig  writers  were  continually  assaulting  the  ministry  with 
the  utmost  violence ; and  they  relied,  for  their  defence,  on  the  single 
arm  of  their  doughty  champion,  Swift. 

On  the  other  side,  the  two  champions  on  whom  the  whigs  most  de-  | 
pended,  were  Bishop  Burnet  and  Mr.  (afterwards  Sir  Richard)  Steele, 
well  known  to  the  world  as  writer  of  the  greatest  number  of  those 
ingenious  essays,  which  appeared  under  the  titles  of  the  Tatlers,  Spec- , 
tators,  and  Guardians.  They  placed  great  hopes  in  two  pamphlets, 
published  about  this  time  ; one  by  Bishop  Burnet,  under  the  title  of 
u An  Introduction  to  the  third  Volume  of  his  History  of  the  Reformat  j 
tion  the  other  by  Mr.  Steele,  called,  “The  Crisis.”  These  two  were 
immediately  answered  by  Swift,  with  such  infinite  humour,  wit,  ridicule, 
and  strength  of  argument,  as  not  only  blunted  the  edge  of  those  pieces' 
but  lowered  the  consequence  of  the  authors  themselves  so  much,  by 
raising  the  laugh  strongly  against  them,  as  to  deprive  them  of  the 
power  of  doing  future  mischief.  We  may  judge  of  the  effect  which 
those  two  pamphlets  must  have  produced  at  that  critical  time,  when  we 
consider  with  what  delight  they  may  be  read  at  this  day,  on  account  of 
their  intrinsic  merit,  though  we  are  little  interested  with  regard  to  the 
events  which  gave  them  birth.  This  indeed  distinguishes  Swifts; 
political  tracts  from  all  others  ; that  these  were  written  for  a day ; his 
for  perpetuity  ; they  borrowed  their  chief  merit  from  circumstanced 
and  times  ; his,  from  the  immensity  of  his  genius  : their  chief  value 
arose  from  fashion  ; his,  from  weight.  And  he  seems  to  have  had  the 
same  advantage  over  his  antagonists,  as  Homer  has  given  to  Achilles, 
by  clothing  him  in  celestial  armour,  and  furnishing  him  with  weapons 
of  ethereal  temper. 

It  may  perhaps  seem  surprising  that  after  so  many  and  such  impor- 
tant services  Swift  should  have  remained  so  long  without  preferment, 
or  reward  of  any  kind  ; and  the  ministry  have  on  that  account  been 
charged  with  ingratitude  toward  him.  But  they  were  far  from  being 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


*713-] 


unmindful  of  his  merits,  and  had  recommended  him  to  the  queen  to 
fill  a vacant  bishopric.  But  the  Duchess  of  Somerset,  who  entertained 
an  implacable  hatred  against  him,  determined  to  move  heaven  and 
earth  to  prevent  his  promotion  taking  place.  She  first  prevailed  on  the 
archbishop  of  York  to  oppose  it,  whose  remarkable  expression  to 
the  queen  was,  “ That  her  majesty  should  be  sure  that  the  man  whom 
she  was  going  to  make  a bishop,  was  a Christian.”  But  as  he  could 
give  no  better  colour  for  this  surmise  than  that  Swift  was  supposed  to  be 
the  author  of  the  “ Tale  of  a Tub,”  the  bishop  was  considered  as  acting 
officiously,  out  of  too  indiscreet  a zeal,  and  his  interposition  was  of  no 
avail.  The  duchess  then  went  in  person  to  the  queen,  and  throwing 
herself  on  her  knees,  entreated,  with  tears  in  her  eyes,  that  she  would 
not  give  the  bishopric  to  Swift ; at  the  same  time  presenting  to  her 
that  excessively  bitter  copy  of  verses,  which  Swift  had  written  against 
her,  called,  “ The  Windsor  Prophecy.”  The  queen  upon  reading  them, 
was  stung  with  resentment  at  the  very  severe  treatment  which  he  had 
given  to  a lady  who  was  known  to  stand  highly  in  her  favour,  and  as  a 
mark  of  her  displeasure,  passed  Swift  by,  and  bestowed  the  bishopric 
on  another. 

As  soon  as  it  was  known  that  Swift  was  in  disgrace  with  the  Queen, 
his  enemies  began  to  attack  him  from  all  quarters  ; and,  as  is  usual  in 
such  cases,  his  court  friends  in  general  either  deserted  him,  or  looked 
coldly  on  him.  There  were  several  speeches  made  against  him,  both  in 
the  House  of  Lords  and  Commons  ; particularly  by  the  Earl  of  Not- 
tingham in  the  former,  and  Mr.  Walpole  (afterwards  Sir  Robert)  and 
Mr.  Aislabie,  who  had  before  professed  much  friendship  for  him,  in  the 
latter.  The  Scotch  lords  went  in  a body  to  the  Queen,  to  complain  of 
the  author  of  a pamphlet  called,  “ The  Public  Spirit  of  the  Whigs,”  in 
which  were  many  passages  highly  injurious  to  the  honour  of  their  na- 
tion, and  desiring  that  the  author  might  be  brought  to  condign  punish- 
ment. Accordingly,  a reward  was  offered  by  proclamation,  of  three 
hundred  pounds,  for  the  discovery  of  the  author  of  that  piece.  But 
Swift  was  a man  of  too  much  courage,  and  knew  his  own  strength  too 
well,  to  be  much  alarmed  at  all  these  threatening  appearances.  Instead 
of  retiring,  he  stood  boldly  on  his  defence.  His  friend,  Lord  Oxford 
too,  and  the  rest  of  the  ministry,  espoused  his  cause  so  warmly,  and 
exerted  their  influence  so  strongly  in  his  behalf,  that  he  soon  appeared 
again  at  court  in  higher  favour  than  ever. 

In  April,  1713,  soon  after  the  conclusion  of  the  peace,  he  was  ap- 
pointed Dean  of  St.  Patrick’s  in  Dublin : and  in  the  beginning  of  June 
following  he  set  out  for  Ireland,  in  order  to  be  installed.  His  intention 


1 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


[171* 


was  to  take  up  his  residence  there  for  some  time  ; but  the  ministry,  to 
whom  his  presence  was  become  necessary,  would  not  suffer  it ; and 
were  so  importunate  for  his  return,  that,  after  he  had  passed  through 
the  necessary  forms,  and  recovered  from  an  indisposition,  which  had 
confined  him  some  time  at  his  living  in  the  country,  he  returned  to 
London,  though  very  unwillingly.  Upon  his  arrival,  he  found  his  pre- 
sence necessary  on  two  very  material  accounts.  One  was,  to  prevent 
possible  a rupture  between  the  ministers,  which  was  daily  threatened, 
as  they  had  no  longer  the  tie  of  common  danger  to  cement  them,  since 
the  conclusion  of  the  peace  ; the  other  was,  to  defend  the  articles  of 
that  peace  ; which  were  now  violently  attacked.  In  the  former  of  these 
points,  he  succeeded  for  some  time  so  far  as  to  make  them  keep  fair 
appearances  toward  each  other,  whatever  ill  will  might  be  rankling  in 
their  hearts.  And  with  regard  to  the  latter,  he  applied  himself  to  the 
finishing  of  the  History  of  the  Peace  of  Utrecht,  in  which  he  had  made 
a considerable  progress,  before  he  had  gone  to  take  possession  of  his 
deanery.  He  was  likewise  particularly  employed  at  this  juncture  with 
relation  to  the  affairs  of  Ireland,  where  party  rage  had  at  that  time 
broken  out  into  several  violent  and  dangerous  acts.  When  he  had 
finished  the  history,  he  put  it  into  the  hands  of  Lord  Oxford  and  Lord 
Bolingbroke,  in  order  that  it  might  be  published  ; and  soon  after  re- 
turned to  his  deanery.  But  he  had  scarcely  arrived  there,  when  there 
were  a hundred  letters*  sent  after  him  to  recall  him  with  all  speed,  in 
order  to  use  his  endeavours  to  reconcile  the  ministers  ; who,  soon  after 
he  had  turned  his  back,  had  come  to  an  open  rupture.  Upon  this  in- 
telligence, Swift  returned  immediately,  though  he  had  scarcely  been 
a fortnight  in  Dublin.  Upon  his  arrival,  he  contrived  to  bring  Lord 
Oxford  and  Lord  Bolingbroke  together  at  Lord  Masham’s,  where  he 
was  left  alone  with  them,  and  expostulated  freely  with  both,  but  to  little 
effect.  However,  they  agreed  to  go  to  Windsor  together  the  next  day. 
Swift,  hoping  they  might  come  to  a more  free  explanation  in  a tete- 
a-tete  than  in  the  presence  of  a third  person,  pretended  business  the 
next  morning,  and  sent  them  together  to  Windsor.  He  followed  soon 
after,  but  found  his  scheme  had  not  produced  the  desired  effect.  He 
had  one  meeting  more  with  them,  and  finding  the  breach  irrecon- 
cilable, he  told  them  he  was  resolved  to  retire,  saying,  “ That  as  he 
was  a common  friend  to  both,  he  would  not,  upon  a breach,  take 
part  with  either.”  And  as  he  foresaw  nothing  from  their  disunion  but 
what  would  be  fatal  to  the  general  interest,  he  was  determined  to  have 
ao  farther  concern  with  public  affairs.”  Swift  on  this  occasion  acted 
# See  Swift’s  letter  to  the  Earl  of  Oxford. 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


11 


*7*3  1 

the  part  of  a zealous  and  disinterested  friend,  but  he  found  no  one  to 
second  him  ; which  he  laments  in  several  places,  as  he  imagined,  if 
others  had  done  their  duty,  a reconcilement  might  have  been  effected. 
In  a letter  to  Pope,  he  says,  “ I only  wish  my  endeavours  had  suc- 
ceeded better,  in  the  great  point  1 had  at  heart,  which  was  that  of  re- 
conciling the  ministers  to  each  other.  This  might  have  been  done,  if 
others,  who  had  more  concern,  and  more  influence,  would  have  acted 
their  parts  ; and  if  this  had  succeeded,  the  public  interest,  both  of 
church  and  state,  would  not  have  been  the  worse,  nor  the  protestant 
succession  endangered.’’  But  Swift  was  probably  the  only  man  among 
them  who  had  either  the  interest  of  the  public,  or  of  the  ministers  at 
heart ; the  rest  seem  rather  to  have  been  wholly  intent  upon  consider- 
ing how  their  own  private  advantage  might  be  promoted  by  this  breach, 
and  listed  themselves  under  the  several  leaders  with  this  view.  Had 
Swift  been  a selfish  man,  he  might  certainly  have  made  what  terms  he 
pleased ; as  his  weight,  thrown  into  either  scale,  would  have  been  of 
great  moment.  But  he  was  actuated  upon  this  occasion  by  that  high 
principle  of  honour,  from  which  he  never  swerved  in  the  whole  course 
of  his  life. 

**  By  faction  tired,  with  grief  he  waits  awhile, 

His  great  contending  friends  to  reconcile. 

Performs  what  friendship,  justice,  truth  require; 

What  could  he  more,  but  decently  retire  ?”* 

After  his  last  fruitless  conference  with  the  ministers,  Swift  immedi- 
ately retired,  as  he  said  he  would,  to  a friend’s  house  in  Berkshire.  But 
this  retirement  was  not  owing  to  a timid  disposition,  which  might 
prompt  him  to  be  out  of  harm’s  way  at  this  dangerous  juncture  ; nor 
to  a principle  of  trimming,  which  might  induce  him  to  lie  upon  the 
lurch  till  he  saw  which  party  in  the  ministry  should  gain  the  ascendant; 
it  was  from  a motive  consonant  to  the  nobleness  of  his  mind.  He 
had  already  acquitted  himself  to  the  utmost  in  point  of  friendship  to 
the  ministers ; and  by  endeavouring  to  unite  them,  had  taken  the 
shortest  and  surest  way  to  serve  the  common  cause.  When  this  was 
found  impracticable,  he  thought  his  duty  to  the  public,  at  so  critical  a 
conjuncture,  paramount  to  all  other  considerations  whatsoever  ; he 
therefore  retired,  in  order  to  have  leisure  to  lay  open  to  the  world 
the  true  causes  of  the  violent  disorders  of  the  state,  let  it  offend  whom 
it  would  ; and  to  point  out  the  only  remedies  that  could  effect  a cure, 
however  unpalatable  they  might  prove  to  some  of  his  best  friends.  It 


# Swift’s  verses  on  himself. 


m 


MEMOIR  OF  DE: 4 AT  SWIFT. 


D71S 

was  on  this  occasion  that  he  wrote  that  spirited  pamphlet  called 
“ Some  free  Thoughts  upon  the  present  State  of  Affairs in  which, 
with  great  boldness,  he  charges  the  ministers  as  the  chief  causes 
of  the  reigning  disorders, from  their  misconduct ; and  lays  the  greatest 
load  of  blame  on  the  man  whom  he  loved  best  in  the  world — Lord 
Oxford. 

There  was  no  opportunity  however  of  trying  what  effect  this  piece 
would  have  had,  as  the  death  of  the  queen,  soon  after  it  went  to  press, 
put  a stop  to  the  publication.  This  event  also  put  an  end  to  all  Swift’s 
noble  designs  for  the  public  benefit,  and  cut  off  at  once  all  his  own 
future  prospects.  This  was  a terrible  blow  to  the  whole  party ; but, 
though  it  was  felt  by  no  one  more  severely  than  by  Swift,  he  had  too 
much  fortitude  to  sink  under  it.  There  is  an  admirable  picture  given 
of  him  upon  this  occasion,  by  a few  strokes  of  the  masterly  hand  of 
Arbuthnot  :*  “ I have  seen  a letter  from  Dean  Swift;  he  keeps  up  his 
noble  spirit,  and  though  like  a man  knocked  down,  you  may  behold 
him  still  with  a stern  countenance,  and  aiming  a blow  at  his  adver- 
saries.” 

In  a few  weeks  after  this  event,  Swift  returned  to  his  deanery  in 
Ireland,  where  he  continued  many  years  without  visiting  England. 

And  here  is  the  best  place  for  a brief  sketch  of  the  story  of  Vanessa. 

Amongst  the  families  in  London  where  Swift  had  during  his  later 
visits  been  chiefly  domesticated,  was  that  of  Mrs.  Vanhomrigh,  widow  of 
Bartholomew  Vanhomrigh,  a Dutch  merchant.  When  Swift  became 
intimate  in  the  family  the  eldest  daughter  Hester  was  not  yet  twenty 
years  old,  beautiful,  rich,  lively,  graceful,  and  accomplished.  She 
had  a greater  inclination  for  reading  and  mental  cultivation  than  is 
usually  combined  with  a gay  temper.  This  last  attribute  had  fatal 
attractions  for  Swift,  who,  in  intercourse  with  his  female  friends  had 
a marked  pleasure  in  directing  their  studies,  and  acting  as  their  I 
literary  mentor  ; a dangerous  character  for  him  who  assumes  it  when  ; 
genius,  docility,  and  gratitude  are  combined  in  a young  and  interest- 
ing pupil.  The  progress  of  the  acquaintance,  the  reserve  of  Switt  ( 
and  the  warmth  of  his  fair  pupil,  are  related  up  to  a certain  point  in 
one  of  the  most  interesting  and  celebrated  of  Swift’s  poems,  Caaenus 
and  Vanessa. 

It  unfortunately  happened  that  Miss  Vanhomrigh  inherited  from  her 
father  a small  property  in  Ireland,  and  her  mother  being  now  dead,  she 
followed  Swift  to  Ireland. 

The  arrival  in  Dublin  of  Vanessa,  whose  impatient  love  would  not 

* Letter  to  Pope. 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


liii 


1714.3 

suffer  her  to  stay  long  behind  him,  was  the  source  of  much  inquietude 
to  Swift.  There  was  nothing  he  seemed  to  dread  more  than  that  bis 
intimacy  with  her  should  take  wind  in  Dublin.  He  had  warned  her  of 
this  in  bis  farewell  letter  to  her  from  Letcomb,  before  his  departure. 
“ If  you  are  in  Ireland  when  I am  there,  I shall  see  you  very  seldom. 
It  is  not  a place  for  any  freedom  ; but  it  is  where  everything  is  known 
in  a week,  and  magnified  a hundred  degrees.  These  are  rigorous  laws 
that  must  be  passed  through  : but  it  is  probable  we  may  meet  in  Lon- 
don in  winter  ; or,  if  not,  leave  all  to  fate,  that  seldom  comes  to  humour 
our  inclinations.  I say  all  this  out  of  the  perfect  esteem  and  friendship 
I have  for  you/ 

And  after  her  arrival  he  writes  to  the  same  Wect.  “ I received  your 
letter  when  some  company  was  with  me  on  Saturday  night,  and  it  put 
me  in  such  confusion  that  I could  not  tell  what  to  do.  This  morning 
a woman  who  does  business  for  me,  told  me  she  heard  I was  in  love 

with  one naming  you,  and  twenty  particulars  ; that  little  master 

and  I visited  you  ; and  that  the  archbishop  did  so;  and  that 

you  had  abundance  of  wit,  &c.  I ever  feared  the  tattle  of  this  nasty 
town,  and  told  you  so  ; and  that  was  the  reason  I said  to  you  long  ago, 
that  I would  see  you  seldom  when  you  were  in  Ireland  ; and  I must  beg 
you  to  be  easy,  if,  for  some  time,  I visit  you  seldomer,  and  not  in  so 
particular  a manner.  I will  see  you  at  the  latter  end  of  the  week, 
if  possible.  These  are  accidents  in  life  that  are  necessary,  and 
must  be  submitted  to  ; and  tattle,  by  the  help  of  discretion,  will  wear 
off.” 

But  discretion  was  ill  suited  to  a mind  now  under  the  dominion  of 
an  ungovernable  passion,  and  which  had  no  other  enjoyment  in  life  but 
in  the  society  of  the  beloved  object.  She  importuned  him  so  with 
letters,  messages,  and  complaints,  that  he  was  obliged  to  assume  a 
sternness  of  behaviour  to  her,  and  treat  her  with  a rigour  quite  foreign 
to  his  heart.*  The  effect  this  had  on  her  is  most  feelingly  set  forth  in 
one  of  her  letters,  1714.  “You  bid  me  be  easy,  and  you  would  see  me 
as  often  as  you  could.  You  had  better  have  said  as  often  as  you  could 
get  the  better  of  your  inclinations  so  much  ; or  as  often  as  you  remem- 
ber there  was  such  a one  in  the  world.  If  you  continue  to  treat  me  as 
you  do,  you  will  not  be  made  uneasy  by  me  long.  It  is  impossible  to 
describe  what  I have  suffered  since  I saw  you  last.  I am  sure  I could 

* In  answer  to  a letter  which  she  had  sent  after  him  by  her  servant  when  he 
was  on  the  road  to  Philipstown,  he  concludes  thus  : “I  have  rode  a tedious 
journey  to-day,  and  can  say  no  more.  Nor  shall  you  know  where  I am  till  X 
come,  and  then  I will  see  you.  A fig  for  your  letters  and  messages.” 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


llT 


Tl720. 


have  borne  the  rack  much  better,  than  those  killing,  killing  words  of 
yours.  Sometimes  I have  resolved  to  die  without  seeing  you  more ; 
but  those  resolves,  to  your  misfortune,  did  not  last  long.  For  there  is 
something  in  human  nature,  that  prompts  one  so  to  find  relief  in  this 
world,  I must  give  way  to  it  : and  beg  you  would  see  me,  and  speak 
kindly  to  me  ; for  I am  sure  you'd  not  condemn  any  one  to  suffer  what 
I have  done,  could  you  but  know  it.  The  reason  I write  to  you  is, 
because  I cannot  tell  it  to  you  should  I see  you.  For  when  I begin  to 
complain,  then  you  are  angry  ; and  there  is  something  in  your  looks  so 
awful,  that  it  strikes  me  dumb.  O ! that  you  may  have  but  so  much 
regard  for  me  left,  that  this  complaint  may  touch  your  soul  with  pity. 
I say  as  little  as  ever  I cab;  did  you  but  know  what  I thought,  I am  sure 
it  would  move  you  to  forgive  me,  and  believe,  I cannot  help  telling  you 
this  and  live.” 

Miss  Vanhomrigh  now  retired  to  a small  house  on  her  estate  near 
Celbridge,  where,  in  silence  and  solitude,  she  indulged  her  fatal  pas- 
sion. All  other  ideas  but  what  related  to  Cadenus,  were  banished  from 
her  mind,  and  all  the  faculties  of  her  soul  were  absorbed  in  love.  She 
wrote  constantly  to  him  in  the  most  passionate  style,  nor  could  the 
coldness  of  his  answers  in  the  least  abate  her  flame.  The  following 
letter  sent  to  him  from  Celbridgein  1720,  will  best  paint  the  state  of  her 
mind. 

“Tell  me  sincerely  if  you  have  once  wished  with  earnestness  to  see 
me,  since  I wrote  to  you  ; no,  so  far  from  that,  you  have  not  once  pitied 
me,  though  I told  you  I was  distressed.  Solitude  is  insupportable  to  a 
mind  which  is  not  easy.  I have  worn  out  my  days  in  sighing,  and  my 
nights  with  watching  and  thinking  of  Cadenus,  who  thinks  not  of  me. 
How  many  letters  shall  I send  you  before  I receive  an  answer  ? Can 
you  deny  me,  in  my  misery,  the  only  comfort  which  I can  expect  at 
present  ? Oh  that  I could  hope  to  see  you  here,  or  that  I could  go  to 
you  ! I was  born  with  violent  passions,  which  terminated  all  in  one, 
that  inexpressible  passion  I have  for  you.  Consider  the  killing  emotions 
which  I feel  from  your  neglect  of  me  ; and  show  some  tenderness  for 
me,  or  I shall  lose  my  senses.  Sure  you  cannot  possibly  be  so  much 
taken  up,  but  you  might  command  a moment  to  write  to  me,  and  force 
your  inclinations  to  so  great  a charity.  I firmly  believe,  if  I could  know 
your  thoughts  (which  no  creature  is  capable  of  guessing  at,  because 
never  any  one  living  thought  like  you),  I should  find  you  had  often,  in 
a rage,  wished  me  religious,  hoping  then  I should  have  paid  my  devo- 
tions to  heaven  : but  that  would  not  spare  you  ; for  were  I an  enthusiast 
still  you’d  be  the  deity  I should  worship.  What  marks  are  there  of  a 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


h 


1720.] 

deity,  but  what  you  are  to  be  known  by  ? You  are  present  everywhere  ; 
your  dear  image  is  always  before  my  eyes.  Sometimes  you  strike  me 
with  that  prodigious  awe,  I tremble  with  fear  : at  other  times  a charm- 
ing compassion  shines  through  your  countenance,  which  revives  my 
soul.  Is  it  not  more  reasonable  to  adore  a radiant  form  one  has  seen, 
than  one  only  described  ?” 

We  may  see  from  this  epistle  to  what  a romantic  height  her  passion 
had  arisen.  Not  the  most  enthusiastic  strains  from  Eloisa  to  Abelard, 
could  exceed  those  of  Vanessa  to  Cadenus.  Length  of  time,  instead  of 
diminishing,  served  only  to  increase  the  violence  of  her  passion  ; and 
the  general  coldness  of  her  lover,  far  from  extinguishing  the  flame,  made 
it  blaze  forth  the  more. 

Swift’s  conduct  toward  her  was  far  from  being  consistent.  Whatever 
resolutions  he  had  formed,  to  try  by  neglect  and  ill-usage  to  put  an 
end  to  that  ardour  of  love  which  caused  him  infinite  uneasiness,  yet  he 
was  seldom  able  to  keep  them  when  in  her  presence.  Whether  com- 
passion for  the  sufferings  of  an  unhappy  young  woman,  whose  life  was 
wasting  away  in  misery  on  his  account,  operated  on  his  humanity  ; or 
whether  his  own  passion  for  her  was  too  strong  for  all  his  philosophy, 
it  is  certain  he  could  never  muster  up  resolution  enough  entirely  to 
break  off  the  connexion,  the  only  possible  way  by  which  a cure  could 
be  effected.  If  his  coldness,  or  even  rudeness,  at  times,  drove  her 
almost  to  despair,  at  others,  the  kindness  of  his  behaviour,  and  marks 
of  tenderness,  revived  her  hopes.  In  this  alternate  succession  of 
hopes  and  fears,  in  this  miserable  state  of  suspense,  did  the  wretched 
Vanessa  pass  her  days  till  the  year  1720,  when  Swift  seemed  deter- 
mined to  put  an  end  to  an  intercourse,  the  source  of  so  much  un- 
happiness to  both.  Upon  this  occasion  she  wrote  him  the  following 
letter ; 

Celbridge,  1720. 

"Believe  me  it  is  with  the  utmost  regret  that  I now  complain  to  you, 
because  I know  your  good  nature  such,  that  you  cannot  see  any  human 
creature  miserable,  without  being  sensibly  touched.  Yet  what  can  I 
do  ? I must  either  unload  my  heart,  and  tell  you  all  its  griefs,  or  sink 
under  the  inexpressible  distress  I now  suffer,  by  your  prodigious  neglect 
of  me.  It  is  now  ten  long  weeks  since  I saw  you  ; and  in  all  that  time 
I have  never  received  but  one  letter  from  you,  and  a little  note  with  an 
excuse.  Oh  ! have  you  forgot  me?  You  endeavour  by  severities  to 
force  me  from  you.  Nor  can  I blame  you  ; for  with  the  utmost  dis- 
tress and  confusion  I beheld  myself  the  cause  of  uneasy  reflections  to 


lvi 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


[1721. 


you  : yet  I cannot  comfort  you  ; but  here  declare  that  it  is  not  in  the 
power  of  art,  time,  or  accident,  to  lessen  the  inexpressible  passion 
which  I have  for  Cadenus.  Put  my  passion  under  the  utmost  restraint  : 
send  me  as  distant  from  you  as  the  earth  will  allow,  yet  you  cannot 
banish  those  charming  ideas,  which  will  ever  stick  by  me,  while  I have 
the  use  of  memory.  Nor  is  the  love  I bear  you  only  seated  in  my  soul, 
for  there  is  not  a single  atom  ot  my  frame  that  is  not  blended  with  it. 
Therefore  do  not  flatter  yourself  that  separation  will  ever  change  my 
sentiments  ; for  I find  myself  unquiet  in  the  midst  of  silence,  and  my 
heart  is  at  once  pierced  with  sorrow  and  love.  For  Heaven's  sake  tell 
me  what  has  caused  this  prodigious  change  in  you  which  I found  of 
late.  If  you  have  the  least  remains  of  pity  for  me  left,  tell  it  me 
tenderly.  No — do  not  tell  it  so,  that  it  may  cause  my  present  death. 
And  do  not  suffer  me  to  live  a life  like  a languishing  death,  which 
is  the  only  life  I can  lead,  if  you  have  lost  any  of  your  tenderness  for 
me.” 


When  Swift  found  that  all  his  endeavours  in  this  way  had  proved 
fruitless,  and  that  the  love  of  Vanessa  for  Cadenus  was  proof  against 
all  obstacles  thrown  in  its  way,  he  gave  way  to  the  feelings  of  humanity, 
and  to  the  dictates  of  his  heart,  against  which,  with  no  small  violence 
to  his  inclination,  he  had  so  long  struggled,  and  changed  his  behaviour 
to  that  of  a kind  indulgent  friend.  His  letters  breathed  sentiments  of 
the  greatest  tenderness;  arrd  in  one  of  July  5,  1721,  he  makes  a 
declaration  of  his  affection  for  her  in  the  most  explicit  terms,  as  may 
be  seen  in  the  following  sentence  written  in  French.  Mais  soyez 
assuree,  que  jamais  personne  au  monde  ri'a  ete  aimee , honor ee>  estimee , 
adoree,  par  votre  a?ni , que  vous.  This  declaration  seems  to  have  been 
drawn  from  him  by  some  desperate  state  of  mind  in  which  he  had 
left  her,  probably  occasioned  by  her  jealousy  of  Stella.  For  in  the 
beginning  of  the  same  letter,  dated  from  Gallstown,  he  says,  “ It  was 
not  convenient,  hardly  possible,  to  write  to  you  before  now,  though  I 
had  more  than  ordinary  desire  to  do  it,  considering  the  disposition  I 
found  you  in  last, though  I hope  I left  you  in  a better.  Cadenus  assures 
me  he  continues  to  esteem,  and  love,  and  value  you  above  all  things, 
and  so  will  do  to  the  end  of  his  life  ; but  at  the  same  time  entreats  that 
you  would  not  make  yourself  or  him  unhappy  by  imaginations.” 

But  as  this  declaration  of  Swift's  was  not  followed  by  any  overture 
of  marriage,  the  confession  of  his  attachment,  however  pleasing  it 
might  be  at  first,  could  not  long  administer  much  consolation  to  her, 
when  she  saw  no  prospect  of  reaping  any  further  fruit  from  it  To  find 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


Ivii 


1723] 

herself  beloved,  and  at  the  same  time  without  hopes  of  possessing  the 
object  of  all  her  wishes,  was  rather  an  aggravation  than  a relief  to  her 
misery.  After  such  a confession,  she  could  see  no  reason  for  his  not 
making  farther  advances.  Her  fortune  was  at  that  time  sufficient  to 
gratify  his  utmost  wishes,  as  by  the  death  of  her  two  brothers  and 
sister,  the  whole  property  left  by  her  father,  which  was  very  consider* 
able,  was  vested  in  her,  and  she  had  indeed  made  her  will  in  Swift’s 
favour.  Impatient  of  the  torments  of  jealousy,  she  determined  to  put 
an  end  to  all  further  suspense,  by  writing  to  Esther  Johnson  herself 
upon  this  head.  Accordingly  she  sent  a short  note  to  her.  Esther 
Johnson  enclosed  the  letter  she  had  received  from  Miss  Vanhomrigh 
to  Swift.  After  which,  she  immediately  went  out  of  town  without  see- 
ing him,  or  coming  to  any  explanation,  and  retired  in  great  resentment 
to  Mr.  Ford’s  country  seat  at  Wood  Park. 

Nothing  could  possibly  have  excited  Swift’s  indignation  more  than 
this  imprudent  step  taken  by  Miss  Vanhomrigh.  He  knew  it  must  occa- 
sion great  disturbance  to  Esther  Johnson,  and  give  rise  to  conjectures 
fatal  to  her  peace.  Her  abrupt  departure,  without  so  much  as  seeing 
him,  already  showed  what  passed  in  her  mind.  Exasperated  to  the 
highest  degree,  he  gave  way  to  the  first  transports  of  his  passion,  and 
immediately  rode  to  Celbridge.  He  entered  the  apartment  where  the 
unhappy  lady  was,  mute,  but  with  a countenance  that  spoke  the  highest 
resentment.  She  trembling  asked  him,  would  he  not  sit  down  ? 44  No  P 
He  then  flung  a paper  on  the  table,  and  immediately  returned  to  his 
horse. 

When,  on  the  abatement  of  her  consternation,  she  had  strength  to 
open  the  paper,  she  found  it  contained  nothing  but  her  own  letter  to 
Esther  Johnson.  Despair  at  once  seized  her,  as  if  she  had  seen  her 
death  warrant  : and  such  indeed  it  proved  to  be.  The  violent  agitation 
of  her  mind  threw  her  into  a fever,  which  in  a short  time  put  a period 
to  her  existence.  Swift,  on  receiving  the  tidings  of  her  death,  imme- 
diately took  horse  and  quitted  the  town,  without  letting  any  mortal  know 
to  what  part  of  the  world  he  was  gone.  As  he  foresaw  that  this  event 
would  give  rise  to  much  town  talk,  he  thought  it  most  prudent  to  keep 
out  of  the  way,  till  the  first  heat  of  it  was  over.  And  having  never 
visited  the  southern  part  of  the  kingdom,  he  took  this  opportunity  of 
making  a tour  there,  because  having  no  acquaintance  in  those  parts, 
he  might  be  a perfect  master  of  his  own  motions,  and  in  his  solitary 
rambles,  give  free  vent  to  his  grief  for  the  loss  of  so  beloved  an  object, 
heightened  by  the  bitter  aggravation  of  knowing  himself  to  be  the  cause 
of  her  death.  Two  months  had  elapsed  without  any  news  of  him, 


e 


Iviii 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


[1723. 

which  occasioned  no  small  alarm  among  his  friends  ; when  Dr.  Sheri 
dan  received  a letter  from  him,  to  meet  him  at  a certain  distance  from 
Dublin. 

Before  her  death,  Miss  Vanhomrigh  had  cancelled  a will  made  in 
favour  of  Swift,  and  bequeathed  her  whole  fortune  to  Serjeant  Marshall, 
and  the  famous  Dr.  Berkeley,  whom  she  appointed  her  executors.  The 
former  was  a relation,  and  the  other  only  an  acquaintance,  for  whose 
person  and  character  she  had  the  highest  esteem.  In  her  last  illness 
she  had  laid  a strong  injunction  on  her  executors,  that  immediately  after 
her  decease  they  should  publish  all  the  letters  that  had  passed  between 
Swift  and  her,  together  with  the  poem  of  Cadenus  and  Vanessa.  Ac- 
cordingly they  were  put  to  the  press,  and  some  progress  made  in  the 
letters,  when  Dr.  Sheridan,  getting  intelligence  of  it,  and  being  greatly 
alarmed  lest  they  might  contain  something  injurious  to  his  friend’s 
character  in  his  absence,  applied  so  effectually  to  the  executors,  that 
the  printed  copy  was  cancelled,  but  the  originals  still  remained  in  their 
hands.  Cadenus  and  Vanessa  alone  saw  the  light. 

In  the  mean  time,  Esther  Johnson  continued  at  Wood  Park,  where 
her  worthy  host  exerted  all  the  powers  of  friendship  to  calm  the  disturb- 
ance of  her  mind,  now  much  increased  by  the  publication  of  that  poem. 
To  find  there  such  an  amiable  portrait  drawn  of  Vanessa,  as  one  pos-  : 
sessed  of  more  and  greater  accomplishments  than  any  of  her  sex, 
could  not  fail  to  excite  her  envy  ; of  which  a remarkable  proof  was  t 
given  in  an  anecdote  recorded  by  Dr.  Delany.  At  this  juncture  some1 
gentlemen  happened  to  call  at  Wood  Park,  who  were  not  acquainted 
with  her  situation.  As  the  newly  published  poem  was  then  the 
general  subject  of  conversation,  they  soon  fell  upon  that  topic.  One 
of  the  gentlemen  said,  that  Vanessa  must  surely  be  an  extraordinary 
woman,  that  could  inspire  the  Dean  to  write  so  finely  upon  her. 
She  smiled,  and  answered,  “that  she  thought  that  point  not  quite; 
so  clear  ; for  it  was  well  known  the  Dean  could  write  finely  on  a broom-; 
stick.”  We  must  suppose  her  to  have  been  exceedingly  galled,  when 
one  of  her  humane  disposition  could  utter  such  a sarcasm,  and  thus^ 
exult  over  the  recent  ashes  of  her  departed  rival.* 

We  now  revert  to  the  more  public  portion  of  our  author’s  life. 

In  the  year  1715,  when  Lord  Oxford  was  committed  to  the  Tower, 

* “One  little  triumph  Stella  had  in  her  life. — That  other  person  was  sacrificed 
to  her — that — that  young  woman,  who  lived  five  doors  from  Dr.  Swift’s  lodgings  td 
in  Bury-street,  and  who  flattered  him,  and  made  love  to  him  in  such  an  outrageous 
manner — Vanessa,  was  thrown  over.” — Thackeray . Swift’s  latest  and  incompar-i  \ 
ably  his  best  biographer  “can  find  no  evidence  of  a marriage  that  is  at  all 
reasonably  sufficient  ” between  Swift  and  Stella. 


MEMOIR  OP  DEAN  SWIFT. 


lix 


I7»S— r7] 

Swift  wrote  pressingly  to  him  that  he  might  be  permitted  to  attend  him 
there.  His  letter  begins  thus  : “ My  lord,  it  may  look  like  an  idle  or 
officious  thing  in  me,  to  give  your  lordship  any  interruption  under  your 
present  circumstances  : yet  I could  never  forgive  myself,  if,  after  having 
been  treated  for  several  years  with  the  greatest  kindness  and  distinction 
by  a person  of  your  lordship’s  virtue,  I should  omit  making  you  at  this 
time  the  humblest  offers  of  my  poor  service  and  attendance.  It  is  the 
first  time  I ever  solicited  you  in  my  own  behalf ; and  if  I am  refused, 
it  will  be  the  first  request  you  ever  refused  me.”  But  Lord  Oxford, 
however  desirous  he  might  be  of  the  presence  of  such  a friend,  whose 
conversation  might  contribute  more  than  anything  in  the  world  to 
soften  the  rigour  of  confinement,  was  too  generous  to  put  him  to  such 
an  inconvenience  on  that  account.  Yet  immediately  on  his  release 
from  the  Tower,  he  expressed  his  desire  of  seeing  him  in  England,  if  it 
might  be  consistent  with  his  affairs  ; in  a letter  full  of  the  warmest  ex- 
pressions of  friendship  and  affection. 

Lord  Bolingbroke’s  letters  during  his  exile,  are  not  inferior  to  Lord 
Oxford’s  in  expressions  of  the  highest  regard  and  friendship.  In  that 
of  Oct.  23,  1716,  are  the  following  passages.  “ It  is  a very  great 
truth,  that  among  all  the  losses  which  I have  sustained,  none  affected 
me  more  sensibly  than  that  of  your  company  and  correspondence ; 
and  yet,  even  now,  I should  not  venture  to  write  to  you,  did  not  you 
provoke  me  to  it.  Your  letter  breathes  the  same  spirit  as  your  con- 
versation at  all  times  inspired,  even  when  the  occasions  of  practising 
the  severest  rules  of  virtuous  fortitude  seemed  most  remote.  Adieu, 
dear  friend  : may  the  kindest  influence  of  Heaven  be  shed  upon  you. 
Whether  we  may  ever  meet  again,  that  Heaven  only  knows  : if  we  do, 
what  millions  of  things  shall  we  have  to  talk  over  ! In  the  mean 
while,  believe  that  nothing  sits  so  near  my  heart,  as  my  country  and  my 
friends,  and  that  among  these  you  ever  had,  and  ever  shall  have,  a 
principal  place.” 

In  another  letter  he  says,  “ I know  not  whether  the  love  of  fame  in- 
creases as  we  advance  in  age  ; sure  I am,  that  the  force  of  friendship 
does  I loved  you  almost  twenty  years  ago  ; I thought  of  you  as  well 
as  I do  now  ; better  was  beyond  the  power  of  conception  ; or  to  avoid 
an  tquivoque,  beyond  the  extent  of  my  ideas.” 

In  the  year  1717,  Swift  received  a letter  from  Lewis,  giving  him  an 
account  of  the  distressed  situation  of  Prior’s  affairs,  and  of  a design 
set  on  foot  by  his  friends  to  publish  his  works  by  subscription,  in  order 
to  his  relief.  This  gave  him  an  opportunity  of  exerting  that  zeal,  for 
Which  he  was  so  remarkable^  whenever  the  cause  of  his  friend,  or  dis* 

3 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


[1717. 


lx 

tressed  merit,  called  upon  him.  Upon  this  occasion  he  made  use  of 
all  his  influence  to  so  good  purpose,  that  in  a few  months  he  sent  him 
such  a large  list  of  subscribers,  that  Prior  was  astonished  at  it.  His 
earnestness  to  serve  him,  and  to  give  him  accounts  of  his  success  in  his 
solicitations,  appears  from  the  quick  succession  of  letters  sent  by  him 
on  the  occasion.  Prior,  in  answer  to  these,  begins  his  letter  of  July  30, 
1717,  thus  : “ I have  the  favour  of  four  letters  from  you,  of  the  9th, 

13th,  1 6th,  and  20th  instant,”  and  he  concludes  his  letter  thus:  “ Pray 
give  my  service  to  all  friends  in  general.  I think,  as  you  have  ordered 
the  matter,  you  have  made  the  greater  part  of  Ireland  list  themselves 
under  that  number.  I do  not  know  how  you  can  recompense  them, 
but  by  coming  over  to  help  me  correct  the  book  which  I promised 
them.” 

What  an  instance  is  here  of  the  vicissitudes  in  human  affairs,  when 
a man  who  has  been  ambassador  plenipotentiary  to  the  court  of  France, 
should,  in  the  space  of  a few  years,  be  reduced  to  such  a sorry  expedi- 
ent (as  Swift  terms  it)  to  keep  him  above  want  ! 

During  this  period,  Swift’s  pen  seems  to  have  been  thrown  aside,  or 
employed  only  in  trifles,  except  two  tracts  drawn  up  by  him  soon  after 
his  settlement  in  Ireland:  the  one,  entitled,  “ Memoirs  relating  to  that 
Change  which  happened  in  the  Queen’s  Ministry  in  the  year  1710,” 
written  in  October,  1714.  The  other,  “ An  Inquiry  into  the  Behaviour 
of  the  Queen’s  last  Ministry,  with  relation  to  their  Quarrels  among  i 
themselves,  and  the  Design  charged  upon  them  of  altering  the  Succes- 
sion of  the  Crown.”  His  view  in  these  was,  to  lay  open  all  the  springs 
which  moved  the  political  machine  during  that  period  ; and  to  exone- 
rate the  ministry  from  that  heavy  charge,  so  loudly  and  generally  made 
against  them,  of  a design  to  bring  in  the  pretender.  As  he  was  a man 
more  in  the  confidence  of  that  ministry  than  any  other  in  the  world  ; 
of  a sagacity  not  easily  to  be  duped;  a sincerity  incapable  of  being j 
biassed,  and  of  most  undoubted  veracity;  there  was  no  one  living  so 
capable  of  executing  such  a task.  And  when  we  examine  the  strength 
of  argument  with  which  he  has  supported  his  positions  ; when  we  re- 
flect that  these  tracts  were  drawn  up  without  any  view  of  their  being 
published  till  after  his  death,  and  therefore  could  answer  no  private 
end,  the  impartial  world  will  necessarily  be  of  his  side.  Confident  as- 
sertions, and  loud  clamours  of  a party,  unsupported  by  any  proofs, 
tnough  sought  for  with  all  the  diligence  of  persevering  malice  and  re* 
venge,  however  they  may  spread  for  a time  through  the  spirit  of  fac- 
tion, will  never  prevail  with  an  unprejudiced  posterity,  against  conclu* 
sive  arguments,  supported  by  established  facts.  To  enlighten  posterity  j 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


Ui 


1720.] 


with  regard  to  those  points,  for  he  had  no  hopes  of  the  present  age, 
was  Swift’s  motive  for  leaving  those  pieces  behind  him,  and  no  doubt 
his  end  will  be  answered. 

During  almost  six  years  after  his  return  to  Ireland,  Swift  kept  his 
resolution  of  not  meddling  at  all  with  public  affairs.  He  saw  with  in- 
dignation the  cruel  oppression  under  which  that  country  laboured,  and 
with  the  deepest  concern,  the  miserable  state  to  which  it  was  reduced. 
But  as  he  knew  that  all  efforts  to  stem  the  torrent,  during  the  violence 
of  party,  would  be  fruitless,  he  prudently  waited  till  it  had  spent  its 
force.  In  the  year  1720,  when  the  ferment  seemed  to  have  subsided,  he 
published  his  first  political  tract  relative  to  Ireland,  entitled,  A Pro- 
posal for  the  universal  Use  of  Irish  Manufactures,  in  which  he  cauti- 
ously avoids  touching  upon  party  matters,  and  points  out  to  the  people 
of  Ireland,  that  a great  part  of  their  poverty  and  distress  was  owing  to 
their  own  folly,  and  that  the  remedy  was  in  their  own  hands.  Of  this 
pamphlet,  and  the  consequences  produced  from  it,  he  has  given  the 
following  account  in  a letter  to  Pope.  “ I have  written  in  this  kingdom 
a discourse  to  persuade  the  wretched  people  to  wear  their  own  manu- 
factures, instead  of  those  from  England:  this  treatise  soon  spread  very 
fast,  being  agreeable  to  the  sentiments  of  the  whole  nation,  except  those 
gentlemen  who  had  employments,  or  were  expectants.  Upon  which  a 
person  in  great  office  here,  immediately  took  the  alarm ; he  sent  in  haste 
for  the  chief  justice,  and  informed  him  of  a seditious,  factious  and  viru- 
lent pamphlet,  lately  published  with  a design  of  setting  the  two  kingdoms 
at  variance  ; directing  at  the  same  time,  that  the  printer  should  be  pro- 
secuted with  the  utmost  rigour  of  the  law.  The  chief  justice  had  so 
quick  an  understanding,  that  he  resolved,  if  possible,  to  outdo  his  ordere. 
The  grand  juries  of  the  county  and  city  were  effectually  practised  with, 
to  represent  the  said  pamphlet  with  all  aggravating  epithets,  for  which 
they  had  thanks  sent  them  from  England,  and  their  presentments  pub- 
lished, for  several  weeks,  in  all  the  newspapers.  The  printer  was  seized, 
and  forced  to  give  great  bail.  After  his  trial,  the  jury  brought  him  in 
not  guilty,  although  they  had  been  culled  with  the  utmost  industry:  the 
chief  justice  sent  them  back  nine  times,  and  kept  them  eleven  hours  ; 
until  being  perfectly  tired  out,  they  were  forced  to  leave  the  matter  to 
the  mercy  of  the  judge,  by  what  they  call  a special  verdict.  During  the 
trial,  the  chief  justice,  among  other  singularities,  laid  his  hand  on  his 
breast,  and  protested  solemnly  that  the  author’s  design  was  to  bring  in 
the  pretender,  although  there  was  not  a single  syllable  01  party  in  the 
whole  treatise ; and  although  it  was  known  that  the  most  eminent  of 
those  who  professed  his  own  principles,  publicly  disallowed  his  pro- 


Ixii 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


LI724. 

ceedings.  But  the  cause  being  so  very  odious  and  unpopular,  the  trial 
of  the  verdict  was  deferred  from  one  term  to  another,  until  upon  the 
Duke  of  Grafton’s,  the  Lord  Lieutenant’s  arrival,  his  grace,  after  mature 
advice,  and  permission  from  England,  was  pleased  to  grant  a noli 

prosequi .” 

From  this  experiment  Swift  learned  that  the  embers  of  party,  how- 
ever concealed  under  ashes,  might  be  revived  with  the  least  breath,  and 
blown  into  a blaze.  He  therefore  withdrew  into  his  former  retirement, 
after  having  taken  ample  vengeance  on  the  chief  justice,  by  exposing  him 
in  the  most  odious  colours,  and  rendering  him  an  object  of  general  de- 
testation. But  whatever  efforts  he  used  to  subdue  his  indignation  at 
the  cruel  acts  of  oppression  and  injustice  under  which  his  country 
laboured,  by  confining  it  within  his  own  breast,  yet  his  heart  was  con- 
stantly corroded  with  the  scenes  of  misery  which  surrounded  him  ; and 
his  patriotic  spirit,  thus  confined,  proved  only  as  an  evil  one  to  torment 
him.  Of  the  effect  which  this  had  on  his  temper,  we  have  many 
instances  in  his  letters.  Dr.  Delany  mentions  a remarkable  one. 
Calling  on  him  one  day,  when  upon  some  occasion  he  seemed  in  an  un- 
common state  of  irritation,  and  being  asked  by  Swift,  “ Whether  the 
corruptions  and  villanies  of  men  in  power,  did  not  eat  his  flesh,  and 
exhaust  his  spirits  ?”  answered,  “ That  in  truth  they  did  not  f he  then 
asked  in  a fury,  “ Why — why — how  can  you  help  it  ? how  can  you  avoid 
it  ?”  Delany  calmly  replied,  “ Because  I am  commanded  to  the  con- 
trary.— ‘ Fret  not  thyself  because  of  the  ungodly l ” 

As  no  work  of  his  appeared  during  the  space  of  nearly  four  years 
after  his  publishing  the  above-mentioned  pamphlet,  it  is  highly  pro- 
bable that  his  leisure  hours  were  wholly  employed  in  writing  “ Gulli- 
ver’s Travels  in  which  general  satire  on  the  vices,  follies,  and  absur- 
dities of  mankind,  he  gave  vent  to  that  spleen,  which  was  in  a continual 
state  of  irritation  from  the  objects  that  surrounded  him. 

In  the  year  1724,  an  opportunity  offered,  which  he  eagerly  embraced, 
of  dispersing  those  clouds,  behind  which  he  had  so  long  been  con- 
cealed, and  of  blazing  forth  in  higher  lustre  than  ever.  At  that  time  a 
project  was  set  on  foot  by  one  William  Wood,  an  obscure  man,  which, 
had  it  succeeded,  would  have  ended  in  the  total,  and  perhaps  irre- 
trievable ruin  of  Ireland.  A patent  was  granted  to  this  man,  in  a most 
extraordinary  manner,  for  coining  halfpence  for  the  use  of  Ireland,  with- 
out consulting  any  mortal  of  that  kingdom,  or  even  giving  any  previous 
notice  of  it  to  the  lord  lieutenant.  Justly  alarmed  at  the  consequences 
to  be  apprehended  from  this,  and  fired  with  resentment  at  the  indignity 
with  which  they  were  treated,  the  parliament,  privy  council,  grand 


1724.I  MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT.  Ixiii 

juries,  and  numerous  bodies  of  the  inhabitants  throughout  the  kingdom, 
sent  over  strong  remonstrances  against  this  proceeding,  but  all  to  no 
purpose.  The  British  minister,  who  had  his  own  views  in  promoting 
this  favourite  project,  determined  to  support  the  patent  ; and  being 
then  possessed  of  the  same  plenitude  of  power  with  all  the  insolence 
of  a Turkish  vizier,  was  deaf  to  the  remonstrances  of  the  nation,  and 
resolved  to  cram  the  halfpence  down  their  throats. 

Upon  the  first  tidings  of  the  patent  being  passed  in  so  extraordk 
nary  a manner,  Swift  took  up  the  pen,  and  under  the  feigned  character 
of  M.  B.  Drapier , represented  all  the  fatal  consequences  that  would 
necessarily  attend  the  carrying  of  it  into  execution,  in  so  plain  and 
clear  a light,  as  spread  a general  alarm  through  all  ranks  and  orders  of 
men  throughout  the  nation. 

But  as  the  parliament,  the  privy  council,  grand  juries,  and  so  many 
bodies  corporate  of  the  kingdom  addressed,  remonstrated,  and  peti- 
tioned against  it,  their  fears  were  at  an  end,  as  supposing  it  impossible 
that  these  should  not  prevail.  Yet  what  was  their  astonishment  to  find 
that  all  these,  and  the  cry  of  the  whole  nation,  were  treated  with  the 
utmost  contempt,  and  a sham  inquiry  set  on  foot  by  a committee  of 
the  privy  council  in  England,  which  ended  in  sending  over  orders  to  all 
officers,  under  the  crown  in  Ireland,  to  be  aiding  and  assisting  to  the 
utmost  of  their  power  in  supporting  Wood’s  patent,  and  giving  circula- 
tion to  his  accursed  coin  ! As  all  persons  in  office  at  that  time  were 
in  the  most  slavish  dependence  on  the  British  ministry,  there  were  no 
hopes  but  that  they  would  pay  implicit  obedience  to  the  commands  of 
their  masters,  especially  as  they  could  do  it  under  colour  of  loyalty,  as 
opposing  the  patent  was  called,  in  the  language  of  those  days , plying  in 
the  king’s  face.  And  if  this  coin  was  once  received  into  the  public 
offices,  and  issued  out  to  pay  the,  king’s  troops,  the  affair  was  over.  To 
prevent  this  there  was  but  one  way,  which  was  to  raise  such  a spirit  in 
the  whole  body  of  the  people,  as  to  determine  them  never  to  receive 
one  piece  of  this  coin  in  payment.  This  he  so  effectually  performed  in 
a series  of  letters,  under  the  same  signature  of  M.  B.,  Drapier , which 
were  universally  read  over  the  whole  kingdom,  that  there  was  scarce  an 
individual  to  be  found,  even  down  to  the  lowest  peasant,  except  a few 
placemen,  who  did  not  form  this  resolution.  And  in  order  to  bind  them 
to  it  more  effectually,  in  his  second  letter  he  drew  up  the  following  ad- 
vertisement. “Whereas  one  William  Wood,  hardwareman,  now  or 
lately  sojourning  in  the  city  of  London,  hath  by  many  misrepresenta- 
tions, procured  a patent  for  coining  a hundred  and  eight  thousand 
pounds,  in  copper  half-pence,  for  this  kingdom,  which  is  a sum  hve 


lxiv 


MEMOIR  OF  BEAN  SWIFT. 


11724. 


times  greater  than  our  occasions  require ; and  whereas  it  is  notorious 
that  the  said  Wood  hath  coined  his  halfpence  of  such  base  metal,  and 
false  weight,  that  they  are  at  best  six  parts  in  seven  below  the  real 
value  : and  whereas  we  have  reason  to  apprehend,  that  the  said  Wood 
may  at  any  time  hereafter  clandestinely  coin  as  many  more  halfpence 
as  he  pleases  : and  whereas  the  said  patent  neither  doth,  nor  can  oblige 
his  majesty's  subjects  to  receive  the  said  halfpence  in  any  payment,  but 
leaves  it  to  their  voluntary  choice,  because  by  law  the  subject  cannot 
be  obliged  to  take  any  money,  except  gold  or  silver  ; and  whereas, 
contrary  to  the  letter  and  meaning  of  the  said  patent,  the  said  Wood 
hath  declared,  that  every  person  shall  be  obliged  to  take  five  pence 
halfpenny  of  his  coin  in  every  payment ; and  whereas  the  house  of 
commons,  and  privy  council  have  severally  addressed  his  most  sacred 
majesty,  representing  the  ill  consequences  which  the  said  coinage  may 
have  upon  this  kingdom  : and  lastly,  whereas  it  is  universally  agreed 
that  the  whole  nation  to  a man,  except  Mr.  Wood  and  his  confederates, 
are  in  the  utmost  apprehensions  of  the  ruinous  consequences  that  must 
follow  from  the  said  coinage  ; therefore  we,  whose  names  are  under- 
written, being  persons  of  considerable  estates  in  this  kingdom,  and 
residers  therein,  do  unanimously  resolve  and  declare,  that  we  will  never 
receive  one  farthing  or  halfpenny  of  the  said  Wood's  coining  ; and  that 
we  will  direct  all  our  tenants  to  refuse  the  said  coin  from  any  person 
whatsoever,  of  which,  that  they  may  not  be  ignorant,  we  have  sent  them 
a copy  of  this  advertisement,  to  be  read  to  them  by  our  stewards, 
receivers,  &c." 

Numbers  of  these  advertisements,  signed  by  a multitude  of  names, 
together  with  the  “ D rapier’s  Letters,"  were  soon  dispersed  over  the 
kingdom,  and  produced  such  a universal  outcry  in  all  ranks  of  people 
against  this  odious  project,  that  the  poor  tools  of  power  did  not  dare  to 
attempt  any  thing  in  support  of  it.  But  the  English  minister,  not  at 
all  intimidated  by  this  violent  opposition,  seemed  resolutely  bent  on 
carrying  the  point.  With  this  view  he  sent  over  Lord  Carteret, 
lately  appointed  Lord  Lieutenant  of  Ireland,  long  before  the  usual  time 
of  the  chief  governor’s  going  to  that  kingdom,  with  directions  to 
assemble  the  parliament,  which  had  been  prorogued  to  a distant  day  ; 
soon  after  the  arrival,  revoking  that  prorogation,  a thing  very  unusual. 
Here  he  w>as  to  try  the  common  methods  of  securing  a majority,  in  order 
to  get  the  sanction  of  the  Irish  parliament  to  the  measure.  On  his 
arrival,  a proclamation  was  published  by  his  excellency  and  council, 
ottering  a reward  of  three  hundred  pounds,  for  discovering  the  author 
of  the  “ fourth  Drapier’s  Letter.’’  Harding,  the  printer  of  that  letter, 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


be* 


1724.I 

was  imprisoned,  and  a bill  of  indictment  was  ordered  to  be  prepared 
against  him.  Upon  this  occasion  Swift  wrote  a short  paper,  called 
“ Seasonable  Advice  to  the  Grand  Jury,  & c.”  copies  of  which  were  dis- 
tributed to  every  person  of  the  grand  jury  the  evening  before  the  bill 
was  to  be  presented,  and  had  such  an  effect,  that  it  was  unani- 
mously thrown  out.  Upon  which  the  same  lord  chief  justice  who  had 
before  acted  with  such  violence  in  a former  prosecution  of  the  Dean’s 
printer,  in  a most  arbitrary  and  illegal  manner,  discharged  the  jury  in 
a rage.  But  this  proceeding,  far  from  serving  the  cause  which  he 
espoused,  only  rendered  it  the  more  desperate,  by  exasperating  men’s 
minds,  already  sufficiently  provoked.  For  the  next  grand  jury  that 
was  summoned,  not  content  with  screening  the  friends  to  their  country, 
made  a violent  attack  upon  the  enemy,  by  a strong  presentment,  drawn 
up  by  Swift,  at  the  request  of  some  of  the  jury. 

Upon  this  presentment,  followed  by  several  others  in  the  different 
counties,  the  affair  was  looked  upon  as  desperate,  and  being  represented 
in  that  light  to  the  ministry  by  Lord  Carteret,  the  patent  was  withdrawn 
and  the  halfpence  suppressed. 

Never  was  greater  exultation  shown  upon  any  occasion  than  appeared 
in  the  whole  nation,  upon  the  defeat  of  this  infamous  project  ; the 
Drapier  was  hailed  by  the  universal  voice  as  the  saviour  of  his  country. 
His  name  resounded  from  shore  to  shore ; his  effigies  were  set  up  in 
every  street ; and  innumerable  bumpers  were  daily  swallowed  to  his 
health. 

Of  the  wit  and  humour  peculiar  to  himself  there  are  some  shining 
instances  scattered  through  those  letters.  Speaking  in  the  assumed 
character  of  the  Drapier,  he  says,  “ I am  very  sensible  that  such  a 
work  as  I have  undertaken,  might  have  worthily  employed  a much 
better  pen : but  when  a house  is  attempted  to  be  robbed,  it  often 
happens  that  the  weakest  in  the  family  runs  first  to  stop  the  door. 
All  my  assistance  were  some  informations  from  an  eminent  person ; 
whereof  I am  afraid  I have  spoiled  a few,  by  endeavouring  to 
make  them  of  a piece  with  my  own  productions  ; and  the  rest  I 
was  not  able  to  manage.  I was  in  the  case  of  David,  who  could 
not  move  in  the  armour  of  Saul,  and  therefore  1 rather  chose  to 
attack  this  uncircumcised  Philistine  (Wood  I mean)  with  a sling  and  3 
stone.  And  I rnay  say  for  Wood’s  honour,  as  well  as  my  own,  that  he 
resembles  Goliah  in  many  circumstances,  very  applicable  to  the  present 
purpose  : for,  Goliah  had  a helmet  of  brass  upon  his  head,  and  he  was 
armed  with  a coat  of  mail,  and  the  weight  of  the  coat  was  five  thousand 
shekels  of  brass,  and  he  had  greaves  of  brass  upon  his  legs \ and  a ia ; get 


lxvi 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


t»724- 


of  brass  between  his  shoulders.  In  short,  he  was  like  Mr.  Wood,  all 
over  brass , and  he  defied  the  armies  of  the  Livi?i%  God \ Goliah’s  con- 
ditions of  combat  were  likewise  the  same  with  those  of  Wood  : if  he 
prevail  against  us,  then  shall  we  be  his  servants.  But  if  it  happen  that 
I prevail  over  him,  I renounce  the  other  part  of  the  condition  ; he  shall 
never  be  a servant  of  mine  ; for  I do  not  think  him  fit  to  be  trusted  in 
any  honest  man’s  shop.” 

Nothing  showed  the  generalship  of  Swift  in  a higher  point  of.  view, 
during  this  contest,  than  his  choice  of  ground  both  for  attack  and 
defence.  He  well  knew  of  what  importance  it  was  to  steer  clear  of 
party  ; and  that  if  he  had  attacked  the  British  minister  as  the  real 
author,  promoter,  and  abettor  of  this  project,  he  would  immediately 
have  been  stigmatized  with  the  name  of  Jacobite,  and  his  writings  of 
course  disregarded.  He  therefore  treated  the  matter  all  along  as  if 
there  were  no  parties  concerned  but  William  Wood  hardwareman , on 
the  one  side,  and  the  whole  kingdom  of  Ireland  on  the  other.  Or,  as 
he  himself  expresses  it,  it  was  bellum  atqne  virnm , a kingdom  on  one 
side,  and  William  Wood  on  the  other.  Nay  he  went  farther,  and 
finding  that  Wood  in  his  several  publications  had  often  made  use  of 
Mr.  Walpole’s  name,  he  takes  upon  him  the  defence  of  the  latter, 
in  several  passages  of  his  fourth  letter,  which  he  concludes  thus  : “ But 
I will  now  demonstrate,  beyond  all  contradiction,  that  Mr.  Walpole  is 
against  this  project  of  Mr.  Wood,  and  is  an  entire  friend  to  Ireland, 
only  by  this  one  invincible  argument ; that  he  has  the  universal  opinion 
of  being  a wise  man,  an  able  minister,  and  in  all  his  proceedings 
pursuing  the  true  interest  of  the  king  his  master  : and  that  as  his  in- 
tegrity is  above  all  corruption , so  is  his  fortune  above  all  temptation f 
By  the  use  of  this  irony,  a double-edged  weapon,  which  he  knew  how  to 
manage  with  peculiar  dexterity,  his  argument  cut  both  ways.  To  the 
bulk  of  readers  it  might  pass  for  a real  acquittal  of  Mr.  Walpole  of  the 
charge  brought  against  him,  which  would  answer  one  end  ; and  to 
those  of  more  discernment,  it  obliquely  pointed  out  the  true  object 
of  their  resentment  ; but  this  so  guardedly,  that  it  was  impossible  to 
make  any  serious  charge  against  the  author  of  his  having  such  a 
design. 

During  the  publication  of  the  “ Drapier’s  Letters,”  Swift  took  great 
pains  to  conceal  himself  from  being  known  as  the  author.  The  only 
persons  in  the  secret  were  Robert  Blakely,  his  butler,  whom  he  em- 
ployed as  his  amanuensis,  and  Dr.  Sheridan.  As  Robert  was  not  the 

most  accurate  transcriber,  the  copies  were  always  delivered  by  him  to 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


lxvii 


1724.] 


the  doctor,  in  order  to  their  being  corrected,  and  fitted  for  the  pres  ) ; by 
whom  they  were  conveyed  to  the  printer  in  such  a way  as  to  prevent  a 
possibility  of  discovery.  It  happened  that  Robert  Blakely,  the  very  even- 
ing of  the  day  on  which  the  proclamation  was  issued  offering  a reward 
of  three  hundred  pounds  for  discovering  the  author  of  the  Drapier’s 
Fourth  Letter, had  stayed  out  later  than  usual  without  his  master’s  leave. 
The  Dean  ordered  the  door  to  be  locked  at  the  accustomed  hour,  and 
shut  him  out.  The  next  morning  the  poor  fellow  appeared  before  him 
with  marks  of  great  contrition  ; when  Swift  would  listen  to  none  of  his 
excuses,  but  abusing  him  outrageously,  bade  him  strip  off  his  livery, 
and  quit  his  house  that  moment.  “ What — you  villain,”  said  he,  “ is  it 
because  I am  in  your  power,  you  dare  take  these  liberties  ? Get 
out  of  my  house,  you  scoundrel,  and  receive  the  reward  of  your 
treachery.” 

Esther  Johnson,  who  was  at  the  deanery,  and  greatly  alarmed  at  this 
scene,  immediately  dispatched  a messenger  to  Dr.  Sheridan,  to  come 
and  try  to  make  up  matters.  U pon  his  arrival  he  found  Robert  walk- 
ing about  the  hall  in  great  agitation,  and  shedding  abundance  of  tears  ; 
inquiring  into  the  cause  of  this,  he  was  told  that  his  master  had  just 
discharged  him.  The  doctor  bade  him  be  of  good  cheer,  for  he  would 
undertake  to  pacify  the  dean,  and  that  he  should  still  be  continued  in 
his  place.  “ That  is  not  what  vexes  me,”  replied  the  honest  creature  ; 
“ to  be  sure  I should  be  very  sorry  to  lose  so  good  a master,  but  what 
grieves  me  to  the  soul  is,  that  my  master  should  have  so  bad  an  opinion 
of  me,  as  to  suppose  me  capable  of  betraying  him  for  any  reward  what- 
e er,” 

When  this  was  told  to  the  dean,  struck  with  the  generosity  of  such  a 
sentiment  in  one  of  his  low  sphere,  he  immediately  pardoned  him,  and 
restored  him  to  favour.  He  also  took  the  first  opportunity  in  his  power 
of  rewarding  this  man  for  his  fidelity.  The  place  of  verger  to  the 
cathedral  soon  after  becoming  vacant,  Swift  called  Robert  to  him,  and 
asked  him  if  he  had  any  clothes  of  his  own  that  were  not  a livery  ; to 
which  the  other  replying  in  the  affirmative,  he  desired  him  immediately 
to  strip  off  his  livery,  and  put  on  those  clothes.  The  poor  fellow,  quite 
astonished,  begged  to  know  what  crime  he  had  committed  that  he  should 
be  discharged — “ Well — do  as  I ordered  you,”  said  Swift.  When  he 
returned  in  his  new  dress,  the  dean  called  the  other  servants  into  the 
room,  and  told  them  they  were  no  longer  to  consider  him  as  their 
fellow-servant  Robert,  but  as  Mr.  Blakely,  verger  of  St.  .Patrick’s 
cathedral,  which  place  be  had  bestowed  on  him,  as  a reward  ior  his 
faithful  services* 


Ixviil 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


[1725. 


The  day  after  the  proclamation  was  issued  out  against  the  Drapier, 
there  was  a full  levee  at  the  castle.  The  lord-lieutenant  was  going  round 
the  circle,  when  Swift  abruptly  entered  the  chamber,  and  pushing  his 
way  through  the  crowd,  never  stopped  till  he  got  within  the  circle ; 
where  with  marks  of  the  highest  indignation  in  his  countenance,  he 
addressed  the  lord-lieutenant  with  the  voice  of  a Stentor,  that  re-echoed 
through  the  room,  “ So,  my  lord-lieutenant,  this  is  a glorious  exploit 
that  you  performed  yesterday,  in  issuing  a proclamation  against  a poor 
shopkeeper,  whose  only  crime  is  an  honest  endeavour  to  save  his  coun- 
try from  ruin.  You  have  given  a noble  specimen  of  what  this  devoted 
nation  is  to  hope  for,  from  your  government.  I suppose  you  expect  a 
statue  of  copper  will  be  erected  to  you  for  this  service  done  to  Wood.” 
He  then  went  on  for  a long  time  inveighing  in  the  bitterest  terms 
against  the  patent,  and  displaying  in  the  strongest  colours  all  the  fatal 
consequences  of  introducing  that  execrable  coin.  The  whole  assembly 
were  struck  mute  with  wonder  at  this  unprecedented  scene.  The  titled 
slaves,  and  vassals  of  power,  felt  and  shrunk  into  their  own  littleness, 
in  the  presence  of  this  man  of  virtue.  He  stood  super-eminent  among 
them,  like  his  own  Gulliver  amid  a circle  of  Lilliputians. 

For  some  time  a profound  silence  ensued,  when  Lord  Carteret,  who 
had  listened  with  great  composure  to  the  whole  speech,  made  this  fine 
reply,  in  a line  of  Virgil's  : 

Res  durce , et  regni  novitas  me  talia  cogunt 
Moliri. 

The  whole  assembly  was  struck  with  the  beauty  of  this  quotation, 
and  the  levee  broke  up  in  good  humour,  some  extolling  the  magna-  . 
nimity  of  Swift  to  the  skies,  and  all  delighted  with  the  ingenuity  of  the 
lord-lieutenant’s  answer. 

When  the  patent  was  withdrawn,  and  of  course  all  apprehensions 
about  the  coin  were  over,  Swift  retired  to  Ouilca,  a house  of  Dr.  Sheri- 
dan’s in  a desolate  part  of  the  country,  where  he  passed  some  months 
in  finishing  and  preparing  his  “ Gulliver’s  Travels”  for  the  press.  Early 
in  the  next  year  1726,  he  set  out  for  England  after  an  absence*from  that 
country  of  nearly  twelve  years.  He  was  received  with  all  demonstrations 
ol  joy  by  his  old  friends,  whose  attachment  to  this  incomparable  man 
seemed  rather  increased  than  diminished  by  absence.  They  all  ex- 
pressed the  warmest  wishes  that  he  would  quit  Ireland  and  settle  among 
them,  and  several  plans  were  proposed  to  accomplish  the  point.  Nor 
was  Swift  less  desirous  of  returning  to  his  own  country,  for  he  always 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


lx!x 


I726.] 

considered  it  as  such,  being  the  country  of  his  forefathers,  though  he 
happened,  as  he  himself  expresses  it,  to  be  dropped  in  Ireland  ; nor  is 
it  surprising  that  his  heart  yearned  to  pass  the  remainder  of  his  days 
among  a set  of  his  old  friends,  who  gave  such  proofs  of  their  unalterable 
attachment  to  him,  and  were,  at  the  same  time,  in  point  of  talents  and 
genius,  the  foremost  men  of  the  age.  But,  however  ardent  their  wishes 
might  be,  there  were  little  hopes  of  their  being  fulfilled,  as  both  he  and 
his  friends  were  obnoxious  to  those  in  power.  Some  expectations  were 
however  formed  from  the  favourable  reception  he  met  with  at  Leicester 
House.  The  Princess  of  Wales,  afterwards  Queen  Caroline,  set  up  for  a 
patroness  of  men  of  genius,  and  affected  to  converse  much  with  all  men 
distinguished  for  literature  and  talents.  Upon  hearing  of  Swift's 
arrival  in  London,  she  immediately  sent  to  desire  to  see  him.  Of  this 
he  gives  the  following  account  in  a letter  to  Lady  Betty  Germaine, 
I732‘3. 

“ It  is  six  years  last  spring  since  I first  went  to  visit  my  friends  in 
England,  after  the  queens  death.  Her  present  majesty  heard  of  my 
arrival,  and  sent  at  least  nine  times  to  command  my  attendance,  before 
I would  obey  her,  for  several  reasons  not  hard  to  guess  ; and  among 
others,  because  I had  heard  her  character  from  those  who  knew  her 
well.  At  last  I went  and  she  received  me  very  graciously."  As  Swift 
was  no  respecter  of  persons,  and  would  speak  bis  mind  with  the  same 
freedom  in  the  face  of  royalty,  as  in  the  most  private  company,  the 
princess,  struck  with  the  novelty  of  such  a character,  and  highly  enter- 
tained with  his  peculiar  vein  of  humour,  was  never  weary  of  sending  for 
him  both  in  London  and  Richmond  ; and  Swift,  to  keep  up  his  conse- 
quence, never  once  attended  her  but  by  command.  Mrs.  Howard,  first 
lady  of  the  bedchamber  to  the  princess,  and  her  chief  favourite,  was  the 
person  who  usually  sent  for  him.  As  she  was  a lady  of  fine  taste,  and 
uncommon  understanding, she  soon  contracted  a high  esteem  for  Swift, 
which  was  matured  into  a friendship,  by  the  frequent  opportunities  she 
had  of  conversing  with  him  in  company  with  Pope  and  Gay,  who  were 
her  great  favourites.  The  peculiar  marks  of  distinction  shown  him  both 
by  the  princess  and  her  favourite,  together  with  the  general  discourse 
of  the  family  at  Leicester  House,  made  his  friends  imagine  that  the 
first  opportunity  would  be  taken  of  making  a suitable  provision  for  him 
in  England,  from  that  quarter  ; and  he  himself,  both  then,  and  for  some 
time  after,  seems  to  have  formed  some  expectations  of  that  kind,  though 
naturally,  and  from  his  frequent  disappointments  in  life,  he  was  far 
from  being  of  a sanguine  disposition. 

During  his  stay  in  England,  his  time  was  passed  chiefly  between 


lx* 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


[1726- 


Twickenham  and  Dawley,  with  his  friends  Pope  and  Bolingbroke, 
where  he  was  visited  by  all  the  old  fraternity.  It  was  then  Pope  pub* 
lished  his  volumes  of  Miscellanies,  consisting  of  some  of  his  own  works, 
and  Arbuthnot’s,  but  chiefly  of  select  pieces  of  Swift’s.  As  this  was  the 
first  time  that  any  of  his  works  were  printed  collectively,  the  sale  w as 
immense,  and  produced  a considerable  sum  to  Pope,  who  had  the 
whole  profit,  as  Swift  was  at  all  times  above  making  any  pecuniary  ad- 
vantage of  his  writings.  During  these  transactions  he  received  several 
successive  accounts  of  the  desperate  state  of  health  to  which  his  dear 
friend  Esther  Johnson  was  reduced,  and  the  little  hopes  there  were  of  her 
recovery.  The  distress  of  mind  which  he  suffered  on  this  occasion, 
together  with  a long  fit  of  his  old  complaint,  giddiness  and  deafness, 
had  so  totally  disqualified  him  for  society,  that  he  stole  away  from  his 
host  at  Twickenham,  and  retired  into  private  lodgings,  with  an  old  re- 
lation for  his  nurse.  As  soon  as  he  was  sufficiently  recovered  to  bear 
the  fatigue  of  a journey,  he  set  out  for  Ireland,  with  the  gloomy  pros- 
pect of  receiving  the  last  breath  of  the  person  dearest  to  him  in  the 
world.  However,  before  his  departure,  he  took  leave  of  the  princess, 
who  was  very  gracious  to  him,  made  apologies  for  not  having  some 
medals  ready  which  she  had  promised  him,  and  said  she  would  send 
them  to  him  before  Christmas.  On  his  arrival  in  Dublin,  he  had  the 
satisfaction  to  find  Mrs.  Johnson’s  health  much  improved,  and  her  re- 
covery, though  slow,  afforded  the  pleasing  prospect  of  a long  continu- 
ance to  a life  so  dear  to  him. 

Swift  had  set  out  for  Ireland  in  the  month  of  August,  and  early  in 
the  November  following  appeared  “Gulliver’s  Travels.”  As  he  had 
kept  a profound  silence  with  regard  to  this  work,  nor  ever  once  men- 
tioned it  to  any  of  his  nearest  friends  during  his  stay  in  England,  they 
were  at  first  in  some  doubt  whether  it  was  his  or  not : and  yet  they 
concluded,  as  was  done  on  a similar  occasion,  that  it  must  be  aut - 
Ei'asmi  aut  Diaboli.  They  all  wrote  to  him  about  it,  considering  it  as 
his,  and  yet  at  the  same  time  kept  as  a reserve,  as  having  some  reasons 
to  be  dubious  about  it. 

Gay,  in  a letter,  Nov.  17,  1726,  writes  to  him  thus  : “About  ten  days 
ago  a book  was  published  here  of  the  Travels  of  one  Gulliver,  which 
has  been  the  conversation  of  the  whole  town  ever  since  : the  whole  im« 
pression  sold  in  a week  ; and  nothing  is  more  diverting  than  to  hear 
the  different  opinions  people  give  of  it,  though  all  agree  in  liking  it  ( 
extremely.  ’Tis  generally  said  that  you  are  the  author,  but  I am  told  1 
the  bookseller  declares  he  knows  not  from  what  hand  it  came.  From  , 
the  highest  to  the  lowest  it  is  universally  read,  from  the  cabinet  council 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


1726.] 


Ixx'* 


to  the  nursery.  You  may  see  by  this  you  are  not  much  injured  by 
being  supposed  the  author  of  this  piece.  If  you  are,  you  have  diso- 
bliged us,  and  two  or  three  of  your  best  friends,  in  not  giving  us  the 
least  hint  of  it.  Perhaps  I may  all  this  time  be  talking  to  you  of  a book 
you  have  never  seen,  and  which  has  not  yet  reached  Ireland;  if  it  have 
not,  I believe  what  we  have  said  will  be  sufficient  to  recommend  it  to 
your  reading,  and  that  you  will  order  me  to  send  it  to  you.” 

In  like  manner,  Pope  says,  “Motte  received  the  copy,  he  tells  me,  he 
knew  not  from  whence,  nor  from  whom,  dropped  at  his  house  in  the 
dark,  from  a hackney  coach  ; by  computing  the  time,  I found  it  was 
after  you  left  England,  so  for  my  part  I suspend  my  judgment.” 

This  proceeding  of  Swift's  might  at  first  view  be  considered  as  one 
of  his  whims,  but  that  it  was  his  constant  practice  in  all  his  former 
works  of  consequence,  which  he  sent  secretly  into  the  world  to  make 
their  own  way  as  well  as  they  could,  according  to  their  intrinsic  merit, 
without  any  advantage  which  they  might  derive  from  the  author’s  re- 
putation. Nor  was  he  ever  known  to  put  his  name  to  any  of  his  publi- 
cations, except  his  letter  to  Lord  Oxford  about  the  English  language. 
It  is  probable  he  took  great  pleasure  in  hearing  the  various  opinions  of 
the  world  upon  his  writings,  freely  delivered  before  him  while  he  re- 
mained unknown  ; and  the  doubts  of  Pope  and  Gay,  occasioned  by  his 
profound  secrecy  on  that  head,  must  have  given  him  no  small  enter- 
tainment. However,  this  extraordinary  work,  bearing  the  stamp  of 
such  an  original  and  uncommon  genius,  revived  his  fame  in  England, 
after  so  long  an  absence,  and  added  new  lustre  to  his  reputation. 

In  his  return  to  Dublin,  upon  notice  that  the  ship  in  which  he  sailed 
was  in  the  bay,  several  heads  of  the  different  corporations,  and  princi- 
pal citizens  of  Dublin,  went  out  to  meet  him  in  a great  number  of 
wherries  engaged  for  that  purpose,  in  order  to  welcome  him  back.  He 
had  the  pleasure  to  find  his  friend,  Dr.  Sheridan,  in  company  with  a 
number  of  his  intimates,  at  the  side  of  the  ship,  ready  to  receive  him 
into  their  boat,  with  the  agreeable  tidings  that  Mrs.  Johnson  was  past 
all  danger.  The  boats  adorned  with  streamers,  and  colours,  in  which 
were  many  emblematical  devices,  made  a fine  appearance  ; and  thus 
was  the  Drapier  brought  to  his  landing-place  in  a kind  of  triumph, 
where  he  was  received  and  welcomed  on  shore  by  a multitude  of  his 
grateful  countrymen,  by  whom  he  was  conducted  to  his  house  amid 
repeated  acclamations,  of  “ Long  live  the  Drapier.”  The  bells  were  all 
set  a-ringing,  and  bonfires  kindled  in  every  street.  As  there  never 
was  an  instance  of  such  honours  being  paid  to  any  mortal  in  that 
Country,  of  whatever  rank  or  station,  Swift  must  have  been  a stoic 


lxxii  MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT.  [1726 

indeed  not  to  have  been  highly  gratified  with  these  unexpected,  unso- 
licited marks  of  favour,  from  his  grateful  fellow-citizens. 

But  whatever  satisfaction  he  might  have  in  his  newly  acquired  popu- 
larity, and  the  consequent  power  it  gave  him  of  being  of  some  use  to 
his  country,  yet  the  long  disgust  he  had  entertained  at  the  management 
of  all  public  affairs  ; the  deplorable  state  of  slavery  to  which  the  king- 
dom was  reduced ; the  wretched  poverty,  and  numberless  miseries, 
painted  by  him  so  often  in  strong  colours,  entailed  by  this  means  on 
the  bulk  of  the  natives,  and  their  posterity;  had  long  made  him  resolve 
when  opportunity  should  offer,  to  change  the  scene,  and  breathe  a 
freer  air  in  a land  of  liberty.  His  last  short  visit  to  his  friends  served 
to  whet  his  resolution,  and  revived  the  desire  which  he  had  of  returning 
to  a country,  where,  as  he  expresses  himself  in  a letter  to  Gay,  he  had 
passed  the  best  and  greatest  part  of  his  life,  where  he  had  made  his 
friendships,  and  where  he  had  left  his  desires.  He  was  at  a time  of 
life,  too,  being  then  in  his  sixtieth  year,  which  called  for  retirement, 
and  afflicted  with  disorders  which  impaired  the  vigour  of  his  mind,  and 
gave  him  frightful  apprehensions  that  the  loss  of  his  mental  faculties 
would  precede  the  dissolution  of  his  frame.  He  had  no  ambition  left, 
of  which  we  find  even  in  his  prime  he  had  very  little,  except  that  of  the 
noblest  kind,  arising  from  a desire  of  serving  the  public,  and  his  friends, 
without  any  mixture  of  self.  As  his  view  was  to  make  any  exchange 
of  his  preferments  in  Ireland,  for  something  like  an  equivalent  in  , 
England,  though  not  fully  equal  to  them  in  point  either  of  dignity  or 
income,  he  thought  the  matter  might  be  easily  accomplished  with  but 
little  interest  ; and  this  he  had  reason  to  hope  would  not  be  wanting, 
from  the  many  hints  he  had  received,  that  the  princess  was  very  de- 
sirous of  bringing  it  to  bear.  With  this  view  he  kept  up  a correspond- 
ence with  Mrs.  Howard,  in  which  several  civilities,  in  his  singular 
way,  passed  to  the  princess.  He  sent  to  the  former  a piece  of  Irish 
silk,  of  a fabric  peculiar  to  that  country,  which  the  princess,  as  soon  as 
she  saw  it,  seized  on  for  her  own  use,  and  desired  that  more  of  the 
same  kind  might  be  sent  over  for  the  princesses  : this  commission  went 
to  him  from  Mrs.  Howard,  telling  him  at  the  same  time  that  she  would 
remit  the  cost  in  what  way  he  should  judge  safest : but  Swift,  as  he  ex- 
presses himself  in  a letter  to  Lady  Betty  Germain,  was  too  gallant  to 
hear  of  any  offers  of  payment.  He  had  received  several  accounts  from 
his  friends  that  the  princess  often  spoke  of  him  with  great  regard. 
Among  others,  Dr.  Arbuthnot  says,  “ I had  a great  deal  of  discourse 
with  your  friend  her  royal  highness.  She  insisted  upon  your  wit,  and 
good  conversation.  I told  her  royal  highness  that  was  not  what  I 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


1727.] 


lxxiu 


valued  you  for,  but  for  being  a sincere  honest  man,  and  speaking  the 
truth,  when  others  were  afraid  of  speaking  it.” 

As  he  had  nothing  to  detain  him  in  Dublin,  Mrs.  Johnson  being  tc 
all  appearance  in  a tolerable  state  of  health,  he  set  out  again  for  London 
early  in  March  (1727),  but  first  gave  notice  to  Mrs.  Howard  of  his 
intended  journey.  From  the  following  paragraph  in  this  letter,  we  may 
judge  on  what  free  terms  he  lived  with  the  princess,  and  may  form  some 
idea  of  the  familiar  manner  of  his  conversing  with  her.  “ I desire  you 
will  order  her  royal  highness  to  go  to  Richmond  as  soon  as  she  can  this 
summer,  because  she  will  have  the  pleasure  of  my  neighbourhood  ; for 
I hope  to  be  in  London  by  the  middle  of  March,  and  I do  not  love  you 
much  when  you  are  there.”  Accordingly,  on  his  arrival  in  London,  he 
never  saw  the  princess  till  she  removed  to  Richmond  ; of  which  he 
gives  this  account  in  a letter  to  Dr.  Sheridan:  “May  13.  I have  at 
last  seen  the  princess  twice  this  week  by  her  own  command  : she  re- 
tains her  old  civility,  and  I,  my  old  freedom.”  But  Walpole  and  his 
party  kept  no  farther  measures  with  him,  of  which  he  makes  the  follow- 
ing mention  in  the  same  letter.  “ I am  in  high  displeasure  with  Wal- 
pole, and  his  partisans.  A great  man,  who  was  very  kind  to  me  last 
year,  doth  not  take  the  least  notice  of  me  at  the  prince’s  court,  and  there 
has  not  been  one  of  them  to  see  me.”  Perhaps  the  consciousness  of 
the  base  means  they  used  to  wound  his  character  might  have  occa- 
sioned this  change  in  their  behaviour.  For  had  the  charge  laid  against 
him  been  founded,  it  would  have  been  a most  unaccountable  cause  of 
quarrel  to  Swift  on  the  side  of  Walpole’s  partisans,  that  he  had  offered 
his  service  to  that  party,  though  its  being  rejected  might  be  a just 
foundation  of  resentment  on  his  side. 

Swift  had  for  some  time  formed  a design  of  passing  some  months  in 
France  for  the  recovery  of  his  health,  and  was  just  on  the  point  of 
carrying  it  into  execution,  when  the  unexpected  news  of  the  king’s 
death  made  him  postpone  it.  As  a total  change  of  measures  was  ex- 
pected to  follow  from  this  event,  more  flattering  prospects  were  opened 
to  him  than  any  he  could  have  in  view  during  the  late  reign.  As  the 
tories,  upon  the  breach  between  the  late  king  and  prince,  were  well 
received  at  Leicester  House,  it  was  supposed  they  would  no  longer  be 
proscribed  as  formerly. 

Swift,  in  a letter  to  Dr.  Sheridan,  June  24, 1727,  gives  the  following 
view  of  the  state  of  affairs  at  that  time.  “ The  talk  is  now  for  a mode- 
rating scheme,  wherein  nobody  shall  be  used  worse  or  better,  for  being 
called  whig  and  tory  ; and  the  king  hath  received  both  with  great 
equality,  showing  civilities  to  several,  who  are  openly  known  to  be  the 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


lxxi* 


ll727. 


latter.  I prevailed  with  a dozen,  that  we  should  go  in  a line  to  kiss 
the  king’s  and  queen’s  hands.  We  have  now  done  with  repining,  if 
we  shall  be  used  well,  and  not  baited  as  formerly  ; we  all  agree  in  it, 
and  if  things  do  not  mend,  it  is  not  our  faults  : we  have  made  our 
offers  ; if  otherwise,  we  are  as  we  were.  It  is  agreed  the  ministry  will 
be  changed,  but  the  others  will  have  a soft  fall ; although  the  king 
must  be  excessive  generous  if  he  forgives  the  treatment  of  some 
people.” 

In  the  midst  of  this  bustle,  after  viewing  the  state  of  things,  Swift 
seems  to  have  had  by  no  means  the  same  sanguine  expectations  that 
others  of  his  party  entertained  ; for  he  says,  in  a letter  to  Dr.  Sheridan, 
July  1, 1727  : — “ Here  are  a thousand  schemes  wherein  they  would  have 
me  engaged,  which  I embraced  but  coldly,  because  I like  none  of  them.” 
And  having  some  return  of  his  disorder,  he  once  more  resolved  for 
France.  But,  as  he  says  himself,  he  was  with  great  vehemence  dissuaded 
from  it  by  certain  persons,  whom  he  could  not  disobey.  These  were 
Lord  Bolingbroke  and  Mrs.  Howard.  The  former  writes  thus  to  him, 
in  a letter  dated  June  24, 1727  : ‘‘There  would  not  be  common  sense  in 
your  going  into  F ranee  at  this  juncture,  even  if  you  intended  to  stay 
there  long  enough  to  draw  the  sole  pleasure  and  profit  which  I propose 
you  should  have  in  the  acquaintance  I am  ready  to  give  you  there.  : 
Much  less  ought  you  to  think  of  such  an  unmeaning  journey,  when  the 
opportunity  of  quitting  Ireland  for  England  is,  I believe,  fairly  before  , 
you.”  Of  what  passed  between  him  and  Mrs.  Howard,  he  gives  the  j 
following  account  in  a letter  to  Lady  Betty  Germain  : “ In  a few  weeks  1 
after  the  king’s  death,  I found  myself  not  well,  and  was  resolved  to 
take  a trip  to  Paris  for  my  health,  having  an  opportunity  of  doing  it  j 
with  some  advantages  and  recommendations.  But  my  friends  ad- 
vised  me  first  to  consult  Mrs.  Howard,  because  as  they  knew  less  of  j 
courts  than  I,  tney  were  strongly  possessed  that  the  promise  made  me  | 
might  succeed,  since  a change  was  all  I desired.  I writ  to  her  for  her 
opinion  ; and  particularly  conjured  her,  since  I had  long  done  with 
courts,  not  to  use  me  like  a courtier,  but  give  me  her  sincere  advice, 
which  she  did,  both  in  a letter  and  to  some  friends.  It  was,  ‘ By  j 
all  means  not  to  go  ; it  would  look  singular,  and  perhaps  disaffected  ; j 
and  my  friends  enlarged  upon  the  good  intentions  of  the  court  toward 
me.’  ” 

Upon  this  Swift  gave  up  his  intended  journey,  and  resolved  to  wait  the 
issue  of  the  present  conjuncture ; though  from  his  long  acquaintance  with  ! 
courts,  and  frequent  disappointments,  he  put  no  great  confidence  in  the  ; 
assurances  given  him.  But  he  was  soon  obliged  to  alter  his  measures  j j 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT- 


1727.] 


lxx* 


for  being  attacked  with  a long  and  violent  fit  of  his  old  complaint,  and 
at  the  same  time  receiving  alarming  accounts  from  Ireland,  that  Esthei 
Johnson  had  relapsed,  with  little  hopes  of  her  recovery,  he  set  out  for 
that  kingdom,  on  the  first  abatement  of  his  illness.  He  was  destined 
never  to  visit  England  again.  Before  his  departure  he  took  leave  of 
the  queen  in  a polite  letter  to  Mrs.  Howard,  apologizing  for  not  doing  it 
in  person  in  the  following  passage  : “ I am  infinitely  obliged  to  you  for 
all  your  civilities,  and  shall  retain  the  remembrance  of  them  during  my 
life.  I hope  you  will  favour  me  so  far  as  to  present  my  most  humble 
duty  to  the  queen,  and  to  describe  to  her  majesty  my  sorrow,  that  my 
disorder  was  of  such  a nature,  as  to  make  me  incapable  of  attending 
her,  as  she  was  pleased  to  permit  me.  I shall  pass  the  remainder  of 
my  life  with  the  utmost  gratitude  for  her  majesty's  favours,  &c.” 

On  his  arrival  in  Dublin,  he  found  Esther  Johnson  in  the  last  stage  of 
decay,  without  the  smallest  hope  of  her  recovery.  He  had  the  misery  of 
attending  her  in  this  state,  and  of  daily  seeing  the  gradual  advances  of 
death  during  four  or  five  months  ; and  in  the  month  of  January  he  was 
deprived,  as  he  himself  expresses  it,  of  the  truest,  most  virtuous,  and 
valuable  friend,  that  he,  or  perhaps  any  other  person  was  ever  blessed 
with.  Such  a loss  at  his  time  of  life  was  irreparable.  She  had  been 
trained  by  him  from  her  childhood,  and  had  been  his  constant  com- 
panion for  five  and  thirty  years,  with  every  merit  toward  him  that  it 
was  possible  for  one  human  creature  to  have  toward  another.  His 
whole  plan  of  life  was  now  changed,  and  with  it  all  his  domestic  com- 
forts vanished.  The  only  chance  he  could  have  had  of  enjoying  the 
remainder  of  his  days  with  any  satisfaction,  would  have  been  the  carry- 
ing into  execution  his  proposed  removal  to  England,  to  live  among  his 
old  friends  ; but  he  soon  found  that  all  expectations  from  that  quarter 
were  at  end.  In  his  forlorn  state  he  found  himself  doomed  to  pass  the 
remnant  of  his  life  in  exile,  in  a country  which  was  one  of  the  last 
he  would  have  chosen  for  his  abode. 

u In  exile  with  a steady  heart 
He  spent  his  life’s  declining  part, 

Where  folly  pride,  and  faction  sway — 

Remote  from  St.  John,  Pope,  and  Gay.” 

But  his  spirit  was  too  great  to  give  way  to  despondence  ; and 
deprived  as  he  was  of  the  chief  comforts  which  might  alleviate  the 
evils  attendant  on  increasing  years,  disappointed  in  the  only  view 
which  could  make  him  look  forward  with  hopes  of  any  satisfaction 
or  enjoyment  to  himself,  he  turned  his  thoughts  wholly  to  the  good 
and  happiness  of  others.  With  this  view  he  entered  more  earnestly 

f~2 


Ixxvi  MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT.  [1728. 

into  a twofold  scene  of  action  ; one  with  regard  to  the  public  at  large  j 
the  other,  with  respect  to  private  individuals.  In  the  former,  out  of 
compassion  to  the  blindness  and  infatuation  of  the  people,  he  laid 
open,  in  a variety  of  publications,  the  chief  sources  of  the  distresses 
and  miseries  under  which  that  unhappy  country  laboured  ; at  the  same 
time  pointing  out  the  means  by  which  they  might  be  alleviated,  or  re- 
moved. In  the  latter,  he  increased  his  attention  to  some  of  the  best- 
planned,  and  best-conducted  charities,  that  ever  were  supported  from 
a private  purse.  In  this  respect,  there  probably  was  no  man  in  the 
British  dominions,  who  either  gave  so  much  in  proportion  to  his  for- 
tune, or  disposed  of  it  to  such  advantage.  From  the  time  he  was  out  of 
debt,  after  his  settlement  at  the  deanery,  he  divided  his  income  into 
three  equal  shares.  One  of  these  he  appropriated  to  his  own  imme- 
diate support,  and  his  domestic  expenses  ; which,  in  those  cheap  times, 
with  the  aid  of  strict  economy,  enabled  him  to  live  in  a manner  per- 
fectly agreeable  to  his  own  ideas,  and  not  unsuitable  to  his  rank.  The 
second  he  laid  up  as  a provision  against  the  accidents  of  life,  and  ulti- 
mately with  a view  to  a charitable  foundation  at  his  death.  And  the 
third,  he  constantly  disposed  of  in  charities  to  the  poor,  and  liberalities 
to  the  distressed.  As  he  sought  out  proper  objects  for  this  with  great 
caution  and  attention,  trusting  little  to  the  representation  of  others,  but 
seeing  everything  with  his  own  eyes,  perhaps  no.  equal  sum  disposed 
of  in  that  way  was  ever  productive  of  so  much  good.  There  was  one 
species  of  charity  first  struck  out  by  him,  which  was  attended  with  the 
greatest  benefit  to  numbers  of  the  lowest  class  of  tradesmen.  Soon 
after  he  was  out  of  debt,  the  first  five  hundred  pounds  which  he  could 
call  his  own,  he  lent  out  to  poor  industrious  tradesmen  in  small  sums 
of  five  and  ten  pounds  to  be  repaid  weekly,  at  two  or  four  shillings, 
without  interest.  As  the  sums  thus  weekly  paid  in  were  lent  out  again 
to  others  at  a particular  day  in  each  month,  this  quick  circulation 
doubled  the  benefit  arising  from  the  original  sum.  In  order  to  ensure 
this  fund  from  diminution,  he  laid  it  down  as  a rule  that  none  should  be 
partakers  of  it,  who  could  not  give  good  security  for  the  regular  repay- 
ment of  it  in  the  manner  proposed  : for  it  was  a maxim  with  him,  that 
any  one  known  by  his  neighbours  to  be  an  honest,  sober,  and  industrious 
man,  would  readily  find  such  security  : while  the  idle  and  dissolute 
would  by  this  means  be  excluded.  Nor  did  they  who  entered  into  such 
securities  run  any  great  risk  ; for  if  the  borrower  was  not  punctual  in 
his  weekly  payments,  immediate  notice  of  it  was  sent  to  them,  which  ob- 
liged him  to  be  more  punctual  for  the  future.  Thus  did  this  fund  con- 
tinue un diminished  to  the  last ; and  small  as  the  spring  was,  yet,  by 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


lxxvh 


I732-J 


continual  flowing,  it  watered  and  enriched  the  humble  vale  through 
which  it  ran,  still  extending  and  widening  its  course. 

His  reputation  for  wisdom  and  integrity  was  so  great,  that  he  was 
consulted  by  the  several  corporations  in  all  matters  relative  to  trade, 
and  chosen  umpire  of  any  differences  among  them,  nor  was  there  ever 
any  appeal  from  his  sentence.  In  a city  where  the  police  was  perhaps 
on  a worse  footing  than  that  of  any  in  Europe,  he  in  a great  measure 
supplied  the  deficiency,  by  his  own  personal  authority,  taking  notice  of 
all  public  nuisances,  and  seeing  them  removed.  He  assumed  the  office 
of  censor-general,  which  he  rendered  as  formidable  as  that  of  ancient 
Rome.  In  short,  by  the  acknowledged  superiority  of  his  talents,  his  in- 
flexible integrity,  and  his  unwearied  endeavours  in  serving  the  public,  he 
obtained  such  an  ascendency  over  his  countrymen,  as  perhaps  no  other 
private  citizen  ever  attained  in  any  age  or  country.  He  was  known  over 
the  whole  kingdom  by  the  title  of  The  Dean,  given  to  him  by  way  of 
pre-eminence,  as  it  were  by  common  consent ; and  when  The  Dean 
was  mentioned  it  always  carried  with  it  the  idea  of  the  first  and  greatest 
man  in  the  kingdom.  The  Dean  said  this  : The  Dean  did  that; 
whatever  he  said  or  did  was  received  as  infallibly  right ; with  the  same 
degree  of  implicit  credit  given  to  it,  as  was  paid  to  the  Stagyrite  of  old, 
or  to  the  modern  Popes.  We  may  judge  of  the  greatness  of  his  in- 
fluence, from  a passage  in  a letter  of  Lord  Carteret  to  him,  March 
24,  1732,  who  was  at  that  time  Chief-Governor  of  Ireland,  u I know  by 
experience  how  much  the  city  of  Dublin  thinks  itself  under  your  pro- 
tection : and  how  strictly  they  used  to  obey  all  orders  fulminated  from 
the  sovereignty  of  St.  Patrick's.”  And  in  the  postscript  to  another  of 
March  24,  1736,  he  says,  “When  people  ask  me  how  I governed  Ire- 
land ? I say,  that  I pleased  Dr.  Swift.” 

During  this  period,  his  faculties  do  not  seem  to  have  been  at  all 
impaired  by  the  near  approaches  of  old  age,  and  his  poetical  fountain, 
though  not  so  exuberant  as  formerly,  still  flowed  in  as  clear  and  pure 
a stream.  Ons  of  his  later  pieces,  “ Verses  on  his  own  Death,”  is  per- 
haps one  of  tne  most  excellent  of  his  compositions  in  that  way.  Nor 
are  two  of  his  other  productions,  written  about  the  same  time,  entitled, 
“ An  Epistle  to  a Lady  and  u A Rhapsody  on  Poetry,”  inferior  to 
any  of  his  former  pieces.  The  two  last  were  written  chiefly  with  a 
view  to  gratify  his  resentment  to  the  court,  on  account  of  some  un- 
worthy treatment  he  met  with  from  that  quarter.  The  reader  has 
already  seen,  by  what  extraordinary  advances  on  her  part,  he  was  allured 
to  pay  his  attendance  on  the  princess,  during  his  two  last  visits  to  Eng- 
land ; and  the  seemingly  well-founded  expectations  of  his  friends,  that 


rxxviii  MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT.  [1732. 

some  marks  of  royal  favour  would  be  shown  him,  both  from  the  un- 
commonly good  reception  he  had  always  met  with,  and  the  many 
assurances  given  to  that  effect.  But  from  the  ti  ne  that  the  princess 
mounted  the  throne,  all  this  was  forgotten.  Nor  was  this  productive  of 
any  disappointment  to  Swift,  who  had  been  too  conversant  with  courts, 
not  to  look  upon  the  most  favourable  appearances  there  with  distrust. 
Accordingly,  on  his  last  return  to  Ireland,  finding  himself  so  utterly 
neglected  by  the  queen  as  not  even  to  receive  some  medals  which  she 
had  promised  him,  he  gave  up  all  hopes  of  that  kind,  and  remained  in 
a state  of  perfect  indifference  with  regard  to  it.  But,  when  he  found 
that  his  enemies  had  been  busy,  instilling  into  the  royal  ear  many  pre- 
judices against  him,  he  entered  upon  his  defence  with  his  usual  spirit. 
Among  other  artifices  employed  to  lessen  him  in  her  majesty’s  esteem, 
there  were  three  forged  letters  delivered  to  the  queen  signed  with  his 
name,  written  upon  a very  absurd  subject,  and  in  a very  unbecoming 
style,  which  she  either  did,  or  affected  to  believe  to  be  genuine.  Swift 
had  notice  of  this  from  his  friend  Pope,  who  procured  one  of  the  ori- 
ginal letters  from  the  Countess  of  Suffolk,  formerly  Mrs.  Howard,  and 
sent  it  to  him.  In  his  indignant  answer  to  Pope  on  this  occasion,  he 
has  the  following  passages.  “ As  for  those  three  letters  you  mention, 
supposed  all  to  be  written  by  me  to  the  queen,  on  Mrs.  Barber’s  ac- 
count, especially  the  letter  which  bears  my  name  ; I can  only  say,  that 
the  apprehensions  one  may  be  apt  to  have  of  a friend’s  doing  a foolish 
thing,  is  an  effect  of  kindness  : and  God  knows  who  is  free  from  play- 
ing the  fool  some  time  or  other.  But  in  such  a degree  as  to  write  to 
the  queen,  who  has  used  me  ill  without  any  cause,  and  to  write  in  such 
a manner  as  the  letter  you  sent  me,  and  in  such  a style,  and  to  have  so 
much  zeal  for  one  almost  a stranger,  and  to  make  such  a description 
of  a woman,  as  to  prefer  her  before  all  mankind  ; and  to  instance  it  as 
one  of  the  greatest  grievances  of  Ireland,  that  her  majesty  has  not  en- 
couraged Mrs.  Barber,  a woollen  draper’s  wife  declining  in  the  world, 
because  she  has  a knack  of  versifying  ; was  to  suppose,  or  fear,  a folly  • 
so  transcendent,  that  no  man  could  be  guilty  of,  wdio  was  not  fit  for 
Bedlam.  You  know  the  letter  you  sent  enclosed  is  not  my  hand,  and 
why  I should  disguise  my  hand,  and  yet  sign  my  name,  is  unaccount-  : 
able.  If  the  queen  had  not  an  inclination  to  think  ill  of  me,  she  know's 
me  too  well  to  believe  in  her  own  heart  that  I should  be  such  a cox- 
comb,” &c. 

In  his  letter  to  Mrs.  Howard,  then  Countess  of  Suffolk,  he  says,  “ I 
find  from  several  instances  that  I am  under  the  queen’s  displeasure ; 
and  as  it  is  usual  among  princes,  without  any  manner  of  reason.  1 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


1732-1 


lxxi* 


am  told  there  were  three  letters  sent  to  her  majesty  in  relation  to  one 
Mrs.  Barber,  who  is  now  in  London,  and  soliciting  for  a subscription 
to  her  poems.  It  seems  the  queen  thinks  that  these  letters  were 
written  by  me ; and  I scorn  to  defend  myself  even  to  her  majesty, 
grounding  my  scorn  upon  the  opinion  I had  of  her  justice,  her  taste, 
and  good  sense  : especially  when  the  last  of  those  letters,  whereof  I 
have  just  received  the  original  from  Mr.  Pope,  was  signed  with  my 
name  : and  why  I should  disguise  my  hand,  which  you  know  very 
well,  and  yet  write  my  name,  is  both  ridiculous  and  unaccountable.  1 
am  sensible  I owe  a great  deal  of  this  usage  to  Sir  Robert  Walpole,” 
&c. 

In  this,  as  well  as  many  other  passages  of  his  letters  at  that  time, 
we  see  he  attributes  the  ill  offices  done  him  with  the  queen,  chiefly  to 
Walpole ; and  accordingly  he  was  determined  to  keep  no  farther 
measures  with  him,  but  gave  full  scope  to  his  resentment,  in  those 
poems,  as  well  as  several  other  pieces  published  afterward.  Upon  the 
first  appearance  of  the  two  poems,  entitled  “ An  Epistle  to  a Lady,” 
and  44  A Rhapsody  on  Poetry,”  Walpole  was  exasperated  to  the  high* 
est  degree.  The  editor,  printer,  and  publishers,  were  all  taken  up,  and 
prosecutions  commenced  against  them.  As  he  had  full  proof  that 
Swift  was  the  author,  in  his  first  transport  of  passion,  he  determined 
to  get  him  into  his  clutches,  and  wreak  his  chief  vengeance  on  him. 
With  this  view  he  had  ordered  a warrant  to  be  made  out  by  the  secre- 
tary of  state,  for  apprehending  Swift,  and  bringing  him  over  to  be  tried 
in  London.  The  messenger  was  in  waiting  ready  to  be  dispatched  on 
this  errand,  when  luckily  a friend  of  Walpole’s,  who  was  better  ac- 
quainted with  the  state  of  Ireland,  and  the  high  veneration  in  which 
the  Dean  was  held  there,  accidentally  entered,  and  upon  inquiry,  being 
informed  of  his  purpose,  coolly  asked  what  army  was  to  accompany  the 
messenger,  and  whether  he  had  at  that  time  ten  thousand  men  to  spare, 
for  he  could  assure  him  no  less  a number  would  be  able  to  bring  the 
Drapier  out  of  the  kingdom  by  force.  Upon  this  Walpole  recovered 
his  senses,  and  luckily  for  the  messenger,  as  well  as  himself,  dropped 
the  design.  For  had  the  poor  fellow  arrived  in  Dublin,  and  attempted 
to  execute  his  commission,  he  would  most  assuredly  have  been  im- 
mediately hanged  by  the  mob  : and  this  might  have  involved  the  two 
countries  in  a contest,  which  it  was  by  no  means  the  interest  of  a 
minister  to  engage  in. 

But,  whatever  gratification  it  might  have  been  to  his  ambitious 
spirit,  to  see  himself  raised  by  the  voluntary  suffrages  of  the  Irish 
people,  to  a rank  beyond  the  power  of  monarchs  to  bestow ; to  find  him* 


lxxx  MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT.  [1736. 

self  considered  by  all  as  the  first  man  in  the  realm  ; the  general  object 
of  veneration  to  all  who  wished  well  to  their  country,  and  of  the  Irish 
people  who  betrayed  its  interests  ; yet  he  was  far  from  being  at  all  satis- 
fied with  his  situation.  The  load  of  oppression  under  which  Ireland 
groaned  from  the  tyrannic  system  of  government  over  that  country, 
established  by  the  false  politics  of  England;  the  base  corruption  of  some 
of  the  principal  natives,  who  sacrificed  the  public  interests  to  their 
private  views  ; the  supineness  of  others  arising  from  despondency  ; the 
general  infatuation  of  the  richer  sort,  in  adopting  certain  modes  and 
customs  to  the  last  degree  ruinous  to  their  country  ; together  with  the 
miseries  of  the  poor,  and  the  universal  face  of  penury  and  distress  that 
overspread  a kingdom  on  which  Nature  had  scattered  her  bounties 
with  a lavish  hand,  and  which,  properly  used,  might  have  rendered  it 
one  of  the  happiest  regions  in  the  world  : all  these  acted  as  perpetual 
corrosives  to  the  free  and  generous  spirit  of  Swift,  and  kept  him  from 
possessing  his  soul  in  peace.  We  have  many  instances  in  his  letters, 
written  at  that  time,  of  the  violent  irritation  of  his  mind  on  these  ac-  , 
counts.  In  one  of  them  he  says,  “ I find  myself  disposed  every  year, 
or  rather  every  month,  to  be  more  angry  and  revengeful ; and  my  rage 
is  so  ignoble,  that  it  descends  even  to  resent  the  folly  and  baseness  of  ; 
the  enslaved  people  among  whom  I live.”  And  in  the  same  letter  to 
Lord  Bolingbroke,  he  says,  “ But  do  you  think,  as  I ought  to  think, 
that  it  is  time  for  me  to  have  done  with  the  world  ; and  so  I would,  if 
I could  get  into  a better,  before  I was  called  into  the  best,  and  not  die 
here  in  a rage,  like  a poisoned  rat  in  a hole.”  In  one  to  Pope,  speak- 
ing of  his  letters,  he  says,  “None  of  them  have  anything  to  do  with 
party,  of  which  you  are  the  clearest  of  all  men,  by  your  religion,  and 
the  whole  tenour  of  your  life  ; while  I am  raging  every  moment  against  . 
the  corruptions  in  both  kingdoms,  especially  of  this  ; such  is  my  weak- 
ness.” And  in  one  to  Dr.  Sheridan,  when  he  seemed  under  the  do- 1 
minion  of  a more  than  ordinary  fit  of  his  spleen,  he  tells  me  that  he 
had  just  finished  his  will,  in  which  he  had  requested  that  the  doctor 
would  attend  his  body  to  Holyhead,  to  see  it  interred  there,  for,  says 
he,  “ I will  not  lie  in  a country  of  slaves.” 

This  habit  of  mind  grew  upon  him  immediately  after  the  loss  of  the 
amiable  Stella,  whose  lenient  hand  used  to  pour  the  balm  of  friendship 
on  his  wounded  spirit.  With  her  vanished  all  his  domestic  enjoyment, 
and  of  course  he  turned  his  thoughts  more  to  public  affairs  ; in  the 
contemplation  of  which,  he  could  see  nothing  but  what  served  to  in- 
crease the  malady.  The  advances  of  old  age,  with  all  its  attendant 
infirmities ; the  death  of  almost  all  his  old  friends ; the  frequent  returns 


MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT. 


lxxxi 


174°-] 


of  his  most  dispiriting  maladies,  deafness  and  giddiness ; and  above 
all,  the  dreadful  apprehensions  that  he  should  outlive  his  understand- 
ing,* made  life  such  a burden  to  him,  that  he  had  no  hope  left  but  that  of 
a speedy  dissolution,  which  was  the  object  of  his  daily  prayer. 

About  the  year  1736,  his  memory  was  greatly  impaired,  and  his  other 
faculties  of  imagination  and  intellect  decayed,  in  proportion  as  the 
stores  from  which  they  were  supplied  diminished.  When  the  under- 
standing was  shaken  from  its  seat,  and  reason  had  given  up  the  reins, 
the  irascible  passions  which  at  all  times  he  had  found  difficult  to  be 
kept  within  due  bounds,  now  raged  without  control,  and  made  him  a 
torment  to  himself,  and  to  all  who  were  about  him.  An  unusually  long 
fit  of  deafness,  attended  with  giddiness,  which  lasted  almost  a year, 
had  disqualified  him  wholly  for  conversation,  and  made  him  lose  all 
relish  for  society.  Conscious  of  his  situation,  he  was  little  desirous  of 
seeing  any  of  his  old  friends  and  companions,  and  they  were  as  little 
solicitous  to  visit  him  in  that  deplorable  state.  He  could  now  no  longer 
amuse  himself  with  writing  ; and  a resolution  he  had  formed  of  never 
wearing  spectacles,  to  which  he  obstinately  adhered,  prevented  him 
from  reading.  Without  employment,  without  amusements  of  any  kind, 
thus  did  his  time  pass  heavily  along  ; not  one  white  day  in  the  calen- 
dar, not  one  hour  of  comfort,  nor  did  even  a ray  of  hope  pierce  through 
the  gloom.  The  state  of  his  mind  is  strongly  pictured  in  a letter  to 
Mrs.  Whiteway:  — 

“ I have  been  very  miserable  all  night,  and  to-day  extremely  deat  and 
full  of  pain.  I am  so  stupid  and  confounded,  that  I cannot  express  the 
mortification  I am  under  both  in  body  and  mind.  All  I can  say  is,  tnat 
I am  not  in  torture ; but  I daily  and  hourly  expect  it.  Pray  let  me 
know  how  your  health  is,  and  your  family.  I hardly  understand  one 
word  I write.  I am  sure  my  days  will  be  very  few  ; few  and  miserable 
they  must  be*  44 1 am,  for  those  few  days,  yours  entirely, 

44  J.  Swift. 

“If  I do  not  blunder,  it  is  Saturday,  July  26,  1740 ?■ 

Not  long  after  the  date  of  this  letter,  his  understandingfailed  to  such 
a degree,  that  it  was  found  necessary  to  have  guardians  legally  ap- 

* Dr.  Young  has  recorded  an  instance  of  this,  where  he  r°1"<-es  that,  walk- 
ing out  with  Swift  and  some  others  about  a mile  from  Dublin,  he  suddenly 
missed  the  Dean,  who  had  stayed  behind  the  rest  of  the  company.  He  turned 
back,  in  order  to  knpw  the  occasion  of  it ; and  found  Swift  at  some  distance, 
gazing  intently  at  the  top  of  a lofty  elm,  whose  head  had  been  blasted.  Upon 
Young’s  approach  he  pointed  to  it*  saying,  “I  shall  be  like  that  tree  ; I shall 
die  first  at  die  top.” 


f 


lxxxii  MEMOIR  OF  DEAN  SWIFT.  [i744- 

pointed  to  take  care  of  his  person  and  estate.  This  was  followed  by  a 
fit  of  lunacy,  which  continued  some  months,  and  then  he  sunk  into  a 
state  of  idiocy,  which  lasted  to  his  death.  He  died  October  19,  1745* 

The  behaviour  of  the  citizens  on  this  occasion,  gave  the  strongest 
proof  of  the  deep  impression  he  had  made  on  their  minds.  Though 
he  had  been,  for  several  years,  to  all  intents  and  purposes,  dead  to  the 
world,  and  his  departure  seemed  a thing  rather  to  be  wished  than  de- 
plored, yet  no  sooner  was  his  death  announced,  than  the  citizens 
gathered  from  all  quarters  and  forced  their  way  in  crowds  into  the  j 
house,  to  pay  the  last  tribute  of  grief  to  their  departed  benefactor. 
Nothing  but  lamentations  were  heard  all  around  the  quarter  where  he 
lived,  as  if  he  had  been  cut  off  in  the  vigour  of  his  years.  Happy 
were  they  who  first  got  into  the  chamber  where  he  lay,  to  procure,  by 
bribes  to  the  servants,  locks  of  his  hair,  to  be  handed  down  as  sacred 
relics  to  their  posterity.  And  so  eager  were  numbers  to  obtain  at  any 
price  this  precious  memorial,  that  in  less  than  an  hour,  his  venerable 
bead  was  entirely  stripped  of  all  its  silver  ornaments,  so  that  not  a hair 
remained. 

He  was  buried  in  the  most  private  manner,  according  to  directions 
In  his  will,  in  the  great  aisle  of  St.  Patrick’s  Cathedral ; and  by  way 
of  monument,  a slab  of  black  marble  was  placed  against  the  wall* 
on  which  was  engraved  the  following  Latin  epitaph,  written  by  hipiselfj 

*HIC  DEPOSITUM  EST  CORPUS 


JONATHAN  SWIFT,  S.T.P. 
HUJUS  ECCLESIiE  CATHEDRALIS 
DECANI: 

UBI  SiEVA  INDIGNATIO 
ULTERIUS  COR  LACERARE  NEQUIT# 
ABI,  VIATOR, 

ET  IMITARE,  SI  POTERIS, 


£TRENUUM  PRO  VIRILI  LIBERTATIS  VINDICEM* 


OBIIT  ANNO  (1745)  J 
MENSIS  (OCTOBRIS)  DIE  (19)  \ 
iETATIS  ANNO  (jS).* 


i 


TRAVELS 

INTO  SEVERAL 

REMOTE  NATIONS  OF  THE  WORLD. 

IN  FOUR  PARTS. 

By  LEMUEL  GULLIVER, 

FIRST  A SURGEON,  AND  THEN  A CAPTAIN  OF  SEVERAL  SHIP* 

[/First  fubUshid  its  1726.] 


THE  PUBLISHER  TO  THE  READER. 


THE  author  of  these  travels,  Mr.  Lemuel  Gulliver,  is  my  ancient  and 
intimate  friend ; there  is  likewise  some  relation  between  us  by  the 
mother's  side.  About  three  years  aeo.  Mr.  Gulliver,  growing  weary  of 
the  concourse  of  curious  people  coming  to  him  at  his  house  in  Redriff 
made  a small  purchase  of  land,  with  a convenient  house,  near  Newark, 
in  Nottinghamshire,  his  native  country,  where  he  now  lives  retired,  yet 
in  good  esteem  among  his  neighbours. 

Although  Mr.  Gulliver  was  born  in  Nottinghamshire,  where  his 
father  dwelt,  yet  I have  heard  him  say  his  family  came  from  Oxford- 
shire; to  confirm  which  I have  observed  in  the  churchyard  at  Banbury, 
in  that  county,  several  tombs  and  monuments  of  the  Gullivers. 

Before  he  quitted  Redriff  he  left  the  custody  of  the  following  papers 
in  my  hands,  with  the  liberty  to  dispose  of  them  as  1 should  think  fit. 
I have  carefully  perused  them  three  times  ; the  style  is  very  plain  and 
simple,  and  the  only  fault  I find  is,  that  the  author,  after  the  manner 
of  travellers,  is  a little  too  circumstantial.  There  is  an  air  of  truth  appa- 
rent through  the  whole ; and  indeed,  the  author  was  so  distinguished 
for  nis  veracity,  tnat  it  oecame  a sort  of  proverb  among  his  neigh- 
bours at  Redriff,  when  any  one  affirmed  a thing,  to  say  it  was  as  true 
as  if  Mr.  Gulliver  had  spoken  it. 

By  the  advice  of  several  worthy  persons,  to  whom,  with  the  author's 
permission,  I communicated  these  papers,  I now  venture  to  send  them 
into  the  world,  hoping  they  may  be  at  least,  for  some  time,  a better 
entertainment  to  our  young  noblemen  than  the  common  scribbles  ol 
politics  and  party. 

This  volume  would  have  been  at  least  twice  as  large,  if  I bad  no 


4 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


made  bold  to  strike  out  innumerable  passages  relating  to  the  winds 
and  tides,  as  well  as  to  the  variations  and  bearings  in  the  several 
voyages,  together  with  the  minute  descriptions  of  the  management  of 
the  ship  in  storms,  in  the  style  of  sailors ; likewise  the  account  of  the 
longitudes  and  latitudes,  wherein  I have  reason  to  apprehend  that  Mr. 
Gulliver  may  be  a little  dissatisfied ; but  I was  resolved  to  fit  the  work 
as  much  as  possible  to  the  general  capacity  of  readers.  However,  if 
my  own  ignorance  in  sea-affairs  shall  have  led  me  to  commit  some 
mistakes,  I alone  am  answerable  for  them.  And  if  any  traveller  hath 
a curiosity  to  see  the  whole  work  at  large,  as  it  came  from  the  hand  of 
the  author,  I shall  be  ready  to  gratify  him. 

As  for  any  further  particulars  relating  to  the  author,  the  reader  will 
receive  satisfaction  from  the  first  pages  of  the  book. 


RICHARD  SYMPSOK. 


PART  I. 

A VOYAGE  TO  LILLIPUT. 


CHAPTER  I. 

The  Author  gives  some  account  of  himself  and  family;  his  first  inducements  to 
travel.  He  is  shipwrecked,  and  swims  for  his  life,  gets  safe  on  shore  in  the 
country  of  Lilliput,  is  made  a prisoner,  and  carried  up  the  country. 

MY  father  had  a small  estate  in  Nottinghamshire;  I was  the  third  of 
five  sons.  He  sent  me  to  Emanuel  College,  in  Cambridge,  at 
fourteen  years  old,  where  I resided  three  years,  and  applied  myself  close 
to  my  studies  ; but  the  charge  of  maintaining  me  (although  I had  a 
very  scanty  allowance)  being  too  great  for  a narrow  fortune,  I was 
bound  apprentice  to  Mr.  James  Bates,  an  eminent  surgeon  in  London, 
with  whom  I continued  four  years  ; and  my  father  now  and  then 
sending  me  small  sums  of  money,  I laid  them  out  in  learning  navi- 
gation, and  other  parts  of  the  mathematics,  useful  to  those  who  intend 
to  travel,  as  I always  believed  it  would  be  some  time  or  other  my  for- 
tune to  do.  When  I left  Mr.  Bates,  I went  down  to  my  father,  where 
hy  the  assistance  of  him  and  my  Uncle  John,  and  some  other  relations, 
I got  forty  pounds,  and  a promise  of  thirty  pounds  a year  to  maintain 
me  at  Leyden.  There  I studied  physic  two  years  and  seven  months, 
knowing  it  would  be  useful  in  long  voyages. 

Soon  after  my  return  from  Leyden.  I was  recommended  by  my  good 
master  Mr.  Bates  to  be  surgeon  to  the  “ Swallow,”  Captain  Abraham 
Panned,  commander,  with  whom  I continued  three  years  and  a half, 
making  a voyage  or  two  into  the  Levant,  and  some  other  parts.  When 
I came  back  I resolved  to  settle  in  London,  to  which  Mr.  Bates,  my 
master,  encouraged  me,  and  by  him  I was  recommended  to  severa 
patients.  I took  part  of  a small  house  in  the  Old  Jewry  ; and  being 
advised  to  alter  my  condition  I married  Mrs.  Mary  Burton,  second 
daughter  to  Mr.  Edmond  Burton,  hosier,  in  Newgate  Street,  wif 
whom  I received  four  hundred  pounds  for  a portion. 


s 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


But  my  good  master  Bates  dying  in  two  years  after,  and  I having 
few  friends,  my  business  began  to  fail,  for  my  conscience  would  not 
suffer  me  to  imitate  the  bad  practice  of  too  many  among  my  brethren. 
Having  therefore  consulted  with  my  wife  and  some  of  my  acquaintance, 

I determined  to  go  again  to  sea.  I was  surgeon  successively  in  two 
ships,  and  made  several  voyages,  for  six  years,  to  the  East  and  West 
Indies,  by  which  I got  some  addition  to  my  fortune.  My  hours  of 
leisure  I spent  in  reading  the  best  authors,  ancient  and  modern,  being 
always  provided  with  a good  number  of  books  ; and,  when  I was 
ashore,  in  observing  the  manners  and  dispositions  of  the  people,  as  well 
as  learning  their  language,  wherein  I had  a great  facility  by  the  strength 
of  my  memory. 

The  last  of  these  voyages  not  proving  very  fortunate,  I grew  weary 
of  the  sea,  and  intended  to  stay  at  home  with  my  wife  and  family.  I 
removed  from  the  Old  Jewry  to  Fetter  Lane,  and  from  thence  to 
Wapping,  hoping  to  get  business  among  the  sailors  ; but  it  would  not  ! 
turn  to  account.  After  three  years'  expectation  that  things  would  j 
mend,  I accepted  an  advantageous  offer  from  Captain  William  Pri-  j 
chard,  master  of  the  “ Antelope,"  who  was  making  a voyage  to  the  I 
South  Sea.  We  set  sail  from  Bristol  May  4th,  1699,  and  our  voyage  j 
at  first  was  very  prosperous. 

It  would  not  be  proper,  for  some  reasons,  to  trouble  the  reader  with 
the  particulars  of  our  adventures  in  those  seas  ; let  it  suffice  to  inform  I 
him  that  in  our  passage  from  thence  to  the  East  Indies  we  were  driven 
by  a violent  storm  to  the  north-west  of  Van  Diemen's  Land.  By  an 
observation  we  found  ourselves  in  the  latitude  of  thirty  degrees  two  mi-  ! 
nutes  south.  Twelve  of  our  crew  were  dead  by  immoderate  labour  and 
ill  food,  the  rest  were  in  a very  weak  condition.  On  the  fifth  of 
November,  which  was  vhe  beginning  of  summer  in  those  parts,  the 
weather  being  very  hazy,  the  seamen  spied  a rock,  within  half  a cable's 
length  of  the  ship  ; but  the  wind  was  so  strong  that  we  were  driven 
directly  upon  it,  and  immediately  split.  Six  of  the  crew,  of  whom  I 
was  one,  having  let  down  the  boat  into  the  sea,  made  a shift  to  get 
clear  of  the  ship  and  the  rock.  We  rowed,  by  my  computation,  about 
three  leagues,  till  we  were  able  to  work  no  longer,  being  already  spent 
with  labour  while  we  were  in  the  ship.  We  therefore  trusted  ourselves 
to  the  mercy  of  the  waves,  and  in  about  half  an  hour  the  boat  was 
overset  by  a sudden  flurry  from  the  north.  What  became  of  my  com- 
panions in  the  boat,  as  well  as  of  those  who  escaped  on  the  rock,  or 
were  left  in  the  vessel,  I cannot  tell ; but  conclude  they  w’ere  all  lost. 
For  my  own  part  I swam  as  fortune  directed  me,  and  was  pushed  for- 
ward by  wind  and  tide.  I often  let  my  legs  drop,  and  could  feel  no 
bottom  ; but  when  I was  almost  gone,  and  able  to  struggle  no  longer,  I 
found  myself  within  my  depth,  and  by  this  time  the  storm  was  much 
abated.  The  declivity  was  so  small,  that  I walked  near  a mile  before! 

• I got  to  the  shore,  which  I conjectured  was  about  eight  o'clock  in  the 
evening.  I then  advanced  forward  near  half  a mile,  but  could  not  dis- 
cover any  sign  of  houses  or  inhabitants  ; at  least  I w?as  in  so  weak  a 
condition  that  I did  not  observe  them.  I was  extremely  tired,  and  with 
that,  and  the  heat  of  the  weather,  and  about  half  a pint  of  brandy  that 
1 drank  as  I left  the  ship,  I lound  myself  much  inclined  to  sleep.  I 


Difcovered  A,D . 1 6 9 9 . 


Dvrnens 


The  library 

of  the 

University  of  Illinois 


A VOYAGE  TO  LILLI  PUT. 


T 


lay  down  on  the  grass,  which  was  very  short  and  soft,  where  I slept 
sounder  than  ever  I remember  to  have  done  in  my  life,  and,  as  [ 
reckoned,  above  nine  hours  ; for  when  I awaked  it  was  just  daylight. 
I attempted  to  rise,  but  was  not  able  to  stir  ; for  as  I happened  to  lie 
on  my  back,  I found  my  arms  and  legs  were  strongly  fastened  on  each 
side  to  the  ground  ; and  my  hair,  which  was  long  and  thick,  tied  down 
in  the  same  manner.  1 likewise  felt  several  slender  ligatures  across 
my  body,  from  my  arm-pits  to  my  thighs.  I could  only  look  upwards, 
the  sun  began  to  grow  hot,  and  the  light  offended  mine  eyes.  I heard 
a confused  noise  about  me,  but  in  the  posture  I lay  could  see  nothing 
except  the  sky.  In  a little  time  I felt  something  alive  moving  on  my 
left  leg,  which  advancing  gently  forward  over  my  breast,  came  almost 
up  to  my  chin,  when,  bending  mine  eyes  downwards  as  much  as  I could, 
I perceived  it  to  be  a human  creature  not  six  inches  high,  with  a bow 
and  arrow  in  his  hands,  and  a quiver  at  his  back.  In  the  mean  time  I 
felt  at  least  forty  more  of  the  same  kind  (as  I conjectured)  following  the 
first.  I was  in  the  utmost  astonishment,  and  roared  so  loud,  that  they 
all  ran  back  in  a fright  \ and  some  of  them,  as  I was  afterwards  told, 
were  hurt  with  the  falls  they  got  by  leaping  from  my  sides  upon  the 
ground.  However,  they  soon  returned,  and  one  of  them,  who  ventured 
so  far  as  to  get  a full  sight  of  my  face,  lifting  up  his  hands  and  eyes  by 
way  of  admiration,  cried  out  in  a shrill  but  distinct  voice,  “ Hekinah 
Degul the  others  repeated  the  same  words  several  times,  but  I then 
knew  not  what  they  meant.  I lay  all  this  while,  as  the  reader  may 
believe,  in  great  uneasiness.  At  length,  struggling  to  get  loose,  I had 
the  fortune  to  break  the  strings,  and  wrench  out  the  pegs  that  fastened 
my  left  arm  to  the  ground ; for,  by  lifting  it  up  to  my  face,  I discovered 
the  methods  they  had  taken  to  bind  me,  and,  at  the  same  time,  with  a 
violent  puli,  which  gave  me  excessive  pain,  I a little  loosened  the 
strings  that  tied  down  my  hair  on  the  left  side,  so  that  I was  just  able 
to  turn  my  head  about  two  inches  ; but  the  creatures  ran  off  a second 
time,  before  I could  seize  them,  whereupon  there  was  a great  shout  in 
a very  shrill  accent,  and  after  it  ceased  1 heard  one  of  them  cry  aloud, 
“Tolgo  Phonac,”  when  in  an  instant  I felt  above  a hundred  arrows  dis- 
charged on  my  left  hand,  which  pricked  me  like  so  many  n cedes;  and, 
besides,  they  shot  another  flight  into  the  air,  as  we  do  bombs  in 
Europe,  whereof  many,  I suppose,  fell  on  my  body  (though  I felt  them 
not),  and  some  on  my  face,  which  I immediately  covered  with  my  left 
hand.  When  this  shower  of  arrows  was  over,  I fell  a-groaning  with 
grief  and  pain,  and  then  striving  again  to  get  loose,  they  discharged 
another  volley  larger  than  the  first,  and  some  of  them  attempted  with 
spears  to  stick  me  in  the. sides  ; but,  by  good  luck,  I had  on  me  a buff 
jerkin,  which  they  could  not  pierce.  I thought  it  the  most  prudent 
method  to  lie  still,  and  my  design  was  to  continue  so  till  night,  when 
my  left  hand  being  already  loose  I could  easily  free  myself.  And  as 
for  the  inhabitants,  I had  reason  to  believe  I might  be  a match  for  the 
greatest  armies  they  could  bring  against  me,  if  they  were  all  of  the  same 
size  with  him  that  I saw.  But  fortune  disposed  otherwise  of  me. 
When  the  people  observed  I was  quiet,  they  discharged  no  more 
arrows  ; but  by  the  noise  I heard  I knew  their  numbers  increased;  and 
about  four  yards  from  me,  over  against  my  right  ear,  I heard  a knock- 


dean  swnrrs  works. 


% 

mg  for  above  an  hour,  like  that  of  people  at  work ; when,  turning  my 
head  that  way  as  well  as  the  pegs  and  strings  would  permit  me,  I saw 
a stage  erected  about  a foot  and  a half  from  the  ground,  capable  of 
holding  four  of  the  inhabitants,  with  two  or  three  ladders  to  mount  it, 
from  whence  one  of  them,  who  seemed  to  be  a person  of  quality,  made 
me  a long  speech,  whereof  I understood  notone  syllable.  But  I should 
have  mentioned,  that  before  the  principal  person  began  his  oration,  he 
cried  out  three  times,  44  Langro  Dehul  san  ” (these  words  and  the  formei 
were  afterwards  repeated  and  explained  to  me),  whereupon  imme- 
diately about  fifty  of  the  inhabitants  came  and  cut  the  strings  that 
fastened  the  left  side  of  my  head,  which  gave  me  the  liberty  of  turning 
'it  to  the  right,  and  of  observing  the  person  and  gesture  of  him  that  was 
to  speak.  He  appeared  to  be  of  a middle  age,  and  taller  than  any  of 
the  other  three  who  attended  him,  whereof  one  was  a page  that  held 
up  his  train,  and  seemed  to  be  somewhat  longer  than  my  middle 
finger  ; the  other  two  stood  one  on  each  side  to  support  him.  He 
acted  every  part  of  an  orator,  and  I could  observe  many  periods  of 
threatenings,  and  others  of  promises,  pity  and  kindness.  I answered 
in  a few  words,  but  in  the  most  submissive  manner,  lifting  up  my  left 
hand  and  both  mine  eyes  to  the  sun,  as  calling  him  for  a witness  ; and 
being  almost  famished  with  hunger,  having  not  eaten  a morsel  for 
some  hours  before  I left  the  ship,  I found  the  demands  of  nature  so 
strong  upon  me  that  I could  not  forbear  showing  my  impatience  (per- 
haps against  the  strict  rules  of  decency)  by  putting  my  finger  frequently 
on  my  mouth,  to  signify  that  I wanted  food.  The  44  Hurgo  ” (for  so 
they  call  a great  lord,  as  I afterwards  learnt)  understood  me  very  well. 
He  descended  from  the  stage,  and  commanded  that  several  ladders 
should  be  applied  to  my  sides,  on  which  above  an  hundred  of  the  inha- 
oitants  mounted,  and  walked  towards  my  mouth,  laden  with  baskets 
full  of  meat,  which  had  been  provided,  and  sent  thither  by  the  king’s 
orders  upon  the  first  intelligence  he  received  of  m^  I observed  there 
was  the  flesh  of  several  animals,  but  could  not  distinguish  them  by 
the  taste.  There  were  shoulders,  legs  and  loins  shaped  like  those  of 
mutton,  and  very  well  dressed,  but  smaller  than  the  wings  of  a lark. 

I eat  them  by  two  or  three  at  a mouthful,  and  took  three  loaves  at  a 
time,  about  the  bigness  of  musket  bullets.  They  supplied  me  as  they 
could,  showing  a thousand  marks  of  wonder  and  astonishment  at  my 
bulk  and  appetite.  I then  made  another  sign  that  I wanted  drink. 
They  found  by  my  eating  that  a small  quantity  would  not  suffice  me, 
and,  being  a most  ingenious  people,  they  flung  up  with  great  dexte-  ; 
rity  one  of  their  largest  hogsheads,  then  rolled  it  towards  my  hand, 
and  beat  out  the  top  ; I drank  it  off  at  a draught,  which  I might  well 
do,  for  it  did  not  hold  half  a pint,  and  tasted  like  a small  wine  of 
Burgundy,  but  much  more  delicious.  They  brought  me  a second 
hogshead,  which  I drank  in  the  same  manner,  and  made  signs  for 
more,  but  they  had  none  to  give  me.  When  I had  performed  these 
wonders,  they  shouted  for  joy,  and  danced  upon  my  breast,  repeating 
several  times,  as  they  did  at  first,  4:  Hekinah  Degul.”  They  made 
me  a sign  that  I should  throw  down  the  two  hogsheads,  but  first  | 
warning  the  people  below  to  stand  out  of  the  way,  crying  aloud.,  [ 
*Borach  Mivola,”  and  whea  they  saw'  the  vessels  in  the  air,  there  : 


A VOYAGE  TO  LILLI  PUT. 


9 


was  an  universal  shout  of  “ Hekinah  Degul.”  I confess  I was  often 
tempted,  while  they  were  passing  backwards  and  forwards  on  my 
body,  to  seize  forty  or  fifty  of  the  first  that  came  in  my  reach,  and  dash 
them  against  the  ground.  But  the  remembrance  of  what  I had  felt, 
which  probably  might  notice  the  worst  they  could  do,  and  the  pro- 
mise of  honour  I made  them,  for  so  I interpreted  my  submissive  beha- 
viour, soon  drove  out  these  imaginations.  Besides,  1 now  considered 
myself  as  bound  by  the  laws  of  hospitality  to  a people  who  had  treated 
me  with  so  much  expense  and  magnificence.  However,  in  my  thoughts 
I could  not  sufficiently  wonder  at  the  intrepidity  of  these  diminutive 
mortals,  who  durst  venture  to  mount  and  walk  upon  my  body,  while 
one  of  my  hands  was  at  liberty,  without  trembling  at  the  very  sight  of 
so  prodigious  a creature  as  I must  appear  to  them.  After  some  time, 
when  they  observed  that  I made  no  more  demands  for  meat,  there 
appeared  before  me  a person  of  high  rank  from  his  Imperial  Majesty. 
His  Excellency  having  mounted  on  the  small  of  my  right  leg,  advanced 
forwards  up  to  my  face,  with  about  a dozen  of  his  retinue  ; and  pro- 
ducing his  credentials  under  the  signet  royal,  which  he  applied  close 
to  mine  eyes,  spoke  about  ten  minutes,  without  any  signs  of  anger,  but 
with  a kind  of  determinate  resolution,  often  pointing  forwards,  which, 
as  I afterwards  found,  was  towards  the  capital  city,  about  half  a mile 
distant,  whither  it  was  agreed  by  his  Majesty  in  Council  that  I must 
be  conveyed.  I answered  in  few  words,  but  to  no  purpose,  and  made 
a sign  with  my  hand  that  was  loose,  putting  it  to  the  other  (but  over 
his  Excellency’s  head,  for  fear  of  hurting  him  or  his  train),  and  then 
to  my  own  head  and  body,  to  signify  that  I desired  my  liberty.  It 
appeared  that  he  understood  me  well  enough,  for  he  shook  his  head 
by  way  of  disapprobation,  and  held  his  hand  in  a posture  to  show  that 
I must  be  carried  as  a prisoner.  However,  he  made  other  signs  to 
let  me  understand  that  I should  have  meat  and  drink  enough,  and  very 
good  treatment ; whereupon  I once  more  thought  of  attempting  to 
break  my  bonds,  but  again,  when  I felt  the  smart  of  their  arrows  upon 
my  face  and  hands,  which  were  all  in  blisters,  and  many  of  the  darts 
still  sticking  in  them,  and  observing  likewise  that  the  number  of  my 
enemies  increased,  I gave  tokens  to  let  them  know  that  they  might  do 
with  me  what  they  pleased.  Upon  this  the  “ Hurgo”  and  his  train 
withdrew  with  much  civility  and  cheerful  countenances.  Soon  after  I 
heard  a general  shout,  with  frequent  repetitions  of  the  words,  “ Peplom 
Selan,”  and  I felt  great  numbers  of  the  people  on  my  left  side  relaxing 
the  cords  to  such  a degree  that  I was  able  to  turn  upon  my  right,  and 
to  ease  myself  with  making  water,  which  I very  plentifully  did,  to  the 
great  astonishment  of  the  people,  who  conjecturing  by  my  motions 
what  I was  going  to  do,  immediately  opened  to  the  right  and  left  on 
that  side  to  avoid  the  torrent  which  fell  with  such  noise  and  violence 
from  me.  But  before  this  they  had  daubed  my  face  and  both  my 
hands  with  a sort  of  ointment  very  pleasant  to  the  smell,  which  in  a 
few  minutes  removed  all  the  smart  of  their  arrows.  These  circum- 
stances, added  to  the  refreshment  I had  received  by  their  victuals  and 
drink,  which  were  very  nourishing,  disposed  me  to  sleep,  1 slept  about 
eight  hours,  as  I was  afterwards  assured ; and  it  was  no  wonder,  foi 


10 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS, 


the  physicians,  by  the  emperor’s  order,  had  mingled  a sleepy  potion  in 

the  hogsheads  of  wine. 

It  seems  that  upon  the  first  moment  I was  discovered  sleeping  on 
the  ground  after  my  landing,  the  emperor  had  early  notice  of  it  by  an 
express^  and  determined  in  council  that  I should  be  tied  in  the  manner 
I have  related  (which  was  done  in  the  night  while  I slept)  that  plenty 
of  meat  and  drink  should  be  sent  to  me,  and  a machine  prepared  to 
carry  me  to  the  capital  city. 

This  resolution  perhaps  may  appear  very  bold  and  dangerous,  and  1 
am  confident  would  not  be  imitated  by  any  prince  in  Europe  on  the 
like  occasion ; however,  in  my  opinion  it  was  extremely  prudent  as 
well  as  generous.  For  supposing  these  people  had  endeavoured  to  kill 
me  with  their  spears  and  arrows  while  I was  asleep,  I should  certainly 
have  awaked  with  the  first  sense  of  smart,  which  might  so  far  have 
roused  my  rage  and  strength,  as  to  have  enabled  me  to  break  the 
strings  wherewith  I was  tied  ; after  which,  as  they  were  not  able  to 
make  resistance,  so  they  could  expect  no  mercy. 

These  people  are  most  excellent  mathematicians,  and  arrived  to  a 
great  perfection  in  mechanics  by  the  countenance  and  encouragement 
of  the  emperor,  who  is  a renowned  patron  of  learning.  This  prince 
hath  several  machines  fixed  on  wheels  for  the  carriage  of  trees  and 
other  great  weights.  He  often  builds  his  largest  men  of  war,  whereof 
some  are  nine  feet  long,  in  the  woods  where  the  timber  grows,  and  has 
them  carried  on  these  engines  three  or  four  hundred  yards  to  the  sea. 
Five  hundred  carpenters  and  engineers  were  immediate  y set  at  work 
to  prepare  the  greatest  engine  they  had.  It  was  a frame  of  wood 
raised  three  inches  from  the  ground,  about  seven  feet  long  and  four 
wide,  moving  upon  twenty-two  wheels.  The  shout  I heard  was  upon 
the  arrival  of  this  engine,  which  it  seems  set  out  in  four  hours  after  my 
landing.  It  was  brought  parallel  to  me  as  I lay.  But  the  principal 
difficulty  was  to  raise  and  place  me  in  this  vehicle.  Eighty  poles, 
each  of  one  foot  high,  were  erected  for  this  purpose,  and  very  strong 
cords  of  the  bigness  of  packthread  were  fastened  by  hooks  to  many 
bandages,  which  the  workmen  had  girt  round  my  neck,  my  hands,  my. 
body,  and  my  legs.  Nine  hundred  of  the  strongest  men  were  employed 
to  draw  up  these  cords  by  many  pulleys  fastened  on  the  poles,  and  thus  ( 
in  less  than  three  hours,  I was  raised  and  flung  into  the  engine,  and 
there  tied  fast.  All  this  I was  told,  for  while  the  whole  operation  was 
performing,  I lay  in  a profound  Sleep,  by  the  force  of  that  soporiferous 
medicine  infused  into  my  liquor.  Fifteen  hundred  of  the  emperor’s 
largest  horses,  each  about  four  inches  and  a half  high,  were  employed 
to  draw  me  towards  the  metropolis,  which,  as  I said,  was  half  a mile 
distant. 

About  four  hours  after  we  began  our  journey,  I awaked  by  a very 
ridiculous  accident ; for  the  carriage  being  stopt  a while  to  adjust 
something  that  was  out  of  order,  two  0r  three  of  the  young  natives  had 
the  curiosity  to  see  how  I looked  when  I was  asleep  ; they  climbed  up 
into  the  engine,  and  advancing  very  softly  to  my  face,  one  of  them,  an 
officer  in  the  guards,  put  the  sharp  end  of  his  half-pike  a good  w^ay  up 
into  my  left  nostril,  which  tickled  my  nose  like  a straw,  and  made  me 
sneeze  violently  : whereupon  they  stole  of i unperceived,  and  it  was 


A VOYAGE  TO  LILLI  PUT. 


II 


three  weeks  before  I knew  the  cause  of  my  awaking  so  suddenly.  We 
made  a long  march  the  remaining  part  of  that  day,  and  rested  at  n.jhi 
with  five  hundred  guards  on  each  side  of  me,  half  with  torches,  and 
half  with  bows  and  arrows,  ready  to  shoot  me  if  I should  offer  to  stir. 
The  next  morning  at  sunrise  we  continued  our  march,  and  arrived 
within  two  l*indred  yards  of  the  city  gates  about  noon.  The  emperor, 
and  all  his  court  came  out  to  meet  us.  but  his  great  officers  would  by 
no  means  suffer  his  majesty  to  endanger  his  person  by  mounting  on 
my  body. 

At  the  place  where  the  carriage  stopped,  there  stood  an  ancient 
temple,  esteemed  to  be  the  largest  in  the  whole  kingdom,  which  having 
been  polluted  some  years  before  by  an  unnatural  murder,  was,  accord 
ing  to  the  zeal  of  those  people,  looked  on  as  profane,  and  therefore  had 
been  applied  to  common  use,  and  all  the  ornaments  and  furniture 
carried  away.  In  this  edifice  it  was  determined  I should  lodge.  The 
great  gate  fronting  to  the  north,  was  about  four  feet  high,  and  almost 
two  feet  wide,  through  which  I could  easily  creep.  On  each  side  of 
the  gate  was  a small  window  not  above  six  inches  from  the  ground  : 
into  that  on  the  left  side,  the  king’s  smiths  conveyed  fourscore  and 
eleven  chains,  like  those  that  hang  to  a lady’s  watch  in  Europe,  and 
almost  as  large,  which  were  locked  to  my  left  leg  with  six  and  thirty 
padlocks.  Over  against  this  temple,  on  t’  other  side  of  the  great 
highway,  at  twenty  foot  distance,  there  was  a turret  at  least  five  foot 
high.  Here  the  emperor  ascended  with  many  principal  lords  of  his 
court,  to  have  an  opportunity  of  viewing  me,  as  I was  told,  for  I could 
not  see  them.  It  was  reckoned  that  above  an  hundred  thousand 
inhabitants  came  out  of  the  town  upon  the  same  errand  ; and  in  spite 
of  my  guards,  I believe  there  could  not  be  fewer  than  ten  thousand,  ai 
several  times,  who  mounted  upon  my  body  by  the  help  of  ladders.  But 
a proclamation  was  soon  issued  to  forbid  it  upon  pain  of  death.  When 
the  workmen  found  it  was  impossible  for  me  to  break  loose,  they  cut 
all  the  strings  that  bound  me  ; whereupon  I rose  up  with  as  melancholy 
a disposition  as  ever  I had  in  my  life.  But  the  noise  and  astonishment 
of  the  people  at  seeing  me  rise  and  walk  are  not  to  be  expressed.  The 
chains  that  held  my  left  leg  were  about  two  yards  long,  and  gave  me 
not  only  the  liberty  of  walking  backwards  and  forwards  in  a semicircle  ; 
but  being  fixed  within  four  inches  of  the  gate,  allowed  me  to  creep  in, 
and  lie  at  my  full  length  in  the  temple. 

CHAPTER  II. 

The  emperor  of  Lillimit,  attended  by  several  of  the  nobility,  come  to  see  the 
anthor  in  his  confinement.  The  emperor’s  person  and  habit  described. 
Learned  men  appointed  to  teach  the  author  their  language.  He  gains 
favour  by  his  mild  disposition.  His  pockets  are  searched,  and  his  sword  and 
pistols  taken  from  him. 

WHEN  I found  myself  on  my  feet,  I looked  about  me,  and  must 
confess  I never  beheld  a more  entertaining  pro  -pect.  The 
country  round  appeared  like  a continued  garden,  and  the  inclosed 
fields,  which  were  generally  forty  feet  square,  resembled  so  %any  beds 
of  flowers,  "*^ese  fields  were  intermingled  with  woods  of  half  a stang, 
and  the  tallest  **ees,  as  I could  .iuege,  appeared  to  be  seve;  foot  high. 


II  DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 

I viewed  the  town  on  my  left  hand,  which  looked  like  the  painted  scen€ 

of  a city  in  a theatre. 

I had  been  for  some  hours  extremely  pressed  by  the  necessities  of 
nature,  which  wa$  no  wonder,  it  being  almost  two  days  since  I had  last 
disburdened  myself.  I was  under  great  difficulties  between  urgency 
and  shame.  The  best  expedient  I could  think  on,  was  to  creep  into 
my  house,  which  I accordingly  did  ; and  shutting  the  gate  after  me,  I 
went  as  far  as  the  length  of  my  chain  would  suffer,  and  discharged  my 
body  of  that  uneasy  load.  But  this  was  the  only  time  I was  ever  guilty 
of  so  uncleanly  an  action ; for  which  I cannot  but  hope  the  candid  reader 
will  give  some  allowance,  after  he  hath  maturely  and  impartially  con- 
sidered my  case,  and  the  distress  I was  in.  From  this  time  my  con- 
stant practice  was,  as  soon  as  I rose,  to  perform  that  business  in  open 
air,  at  the  full  extent  of  my  chain,  and  due  care  was  taken  every  morn- 
ing before  company  came,  that  the  offensive  matter  should  be  carried 
off  in  wheel-barrows  by  two  servants  appointed  for  that  purpose.  I 
would  not  have  dwelt  so  long  upon  a circumstance,  that  perhaps  at 
first  sight  may  appear  not  very  momentous,  if  I had  not  thought  it 
necessary  to  justify  my  character  in  point  of  cleanliness  to  the  world  ; 
which  I am  told  some  of  my  maligners  have  been  pleased,  upon  this 
and  other  occasions,  to  call  in  question. 

When  this  adventure  was  at  an  end,  I came  back  out  of  my  house, 
having  occasion  for  fresh  air.  The  emperor  was  already  descended 
from  the  tower,  and  advancing  on  horseback  towards  me,  which  had 
like  to  have  cost  him  dear  ; for  the  beast,  though  very  well  trained, 
yet  wholly  unused  to  such  a sight,  wffiich  appeared  as  if  a mountain  ' 
moved  before  him,  reared  up  on  his  hinder  feet : but  that  prince,  who 
is  an  excellent  horseman,  kept  his  seat,  till  his  attendants  ran  in,  and 
held  the  bridle,  while  his  majesty  had  time  to  dismount.  When  he  ' 
alighted,  he  surveyed  me  round  with  great  admiration,  but  kept  without 1 
the  length  of  my  chain.  He  ordered  his  cooks  and  butlers,  who  were 
already  prepared,  to  give  me  victuals  and  drink,  which  they  pushed 
forward  in  a sort  of  vehicle  upon  wheels  till  I could  reach  them.  I 
took  these  vehicles,  and  soon  emptied  them  all  ; twenty  of  them  were 
tilled  with  meat,  and  ten  with  liquor,  each  of  the  former  afforded  me 
two  or  three  good  mouthfuls,  and  I emptied  the  liquor  of  ten  vessels,  I 
which  was  contained  in  earthen  vials,  into  one  vehicle,  drinking  it  off 
at  a draught,  and  so  I aid  with  the  rest.  The  empress,  and  young'! 
princes  of  the  blood,  of  both  sexes,  attended  by  many  ladies,  sat  at  j 
some  distance  in  their  chairs,  but  upon  the  accident  that  happened  to 
the  emperor’s  horse,  they  alighted,  and  came  near  his  person,  which  I 
am  now  going  to  describe.  He  is  taller  by  almost  the  breadth  of  my 
nail,  than  any  of  his  court,  which  alone  is  plough  to  strike  an  aw  e into 
the  beholders.  His  features  are  strong  and  masculine,  with  an  Austrian 
lip  and  arched  nose,  his  complexion  olive,  his  countenance  erect,  his 
body  and  limbs  wdl  proportioned,  all  his  motions  graceful,  and  his 
deportment  majestic.  He  was  then  past  his  prime,  being  twenty-eight 
years  and  three-quarters  old,  of  which  he  had  reigned  about  seven,  in 
great  felicity,  and  generally  victorious.  For  the  better  convenience  of , 
beholding  him,  I lay  on  my  side,  so  that  my  face  was  parallel  to  his,  i 
and  he  stood  but  three  yards  off : however,  I have  had  him  since  many 


A VOYAGE  TO  LILLIPUT. 


n 


times  in  my  hand,  and  therefore  cannot  be  deceived  in  the  description. 
His  dress  was  very  plain  and  simple,  and  the  fashion  of  it  between  the 
Asiatic  and  the  European  : but  lie  had  on  his  head  a light  helmet  of 
gold,  adorned  with  jewels,  and  a plume  on  the  crest.  He  held  his 
sword  drawn  in  his  hand,  to  defend  himself,  if  I should  happen  to 
break  loose  ; it  was  almost  three  inches  long,  the  hilt  and  scabbard 
were  gold  enriched  with  diamonds.  His  voice  was  shrill,  but  very 
clear  and  articulate,  and  I could  distinctly  hear  it  when  I stood  up. 
The  ladies  and  courtiers  were  all  most  magnificently  clad,  so  that  the 
spot  they  stood  upon  seemed  to  resemble  a petticoat  spread  on  the 
ground,  embroidered  with  figures  of  gold  and  silver.  His  Imperial 
Majesty  spoke  often  to  me,  and  I returned  answers,  but  neither  of  us 
could  understand  a syllable.  There  were  several  of  his  priests  and 
lawyers  present  (as  I conjectured  by  their  habits)  who  were  commanded 
to  address  themselves  to  me,  and  I spoke  to  them  in  as  many  languages 
as  I had  the  least  smattering  of,  which  were  High  and  Low  Dutch, 
Latin,  French,  Spanish,  Italian,  and  Lingua  Franca  ; but  all  to  no 
purpose.  After  about  two  hours  the  court  retired,  and  I was  left  with 
a strong  guard,  to  prevent  the  impertinence,  and  probably  the  malice 
of  the  rabble,  who  were  very  impatient  to  crowd  about  me  as  near  as 
they  durst,  and  some  of  them  had  the  impudence  to  shoot  their  arrows 
at  me  as  I sat  on  the  ground  by  the  door  of  my  house,  whereof  one 
very  narrowly  missed  my  left  eye.  But  the  colonel  ordered  six  of  the 
ring-leaders  to  be  seized,  and  thought  no  punishment  so  proper  as  to 
deliver  them  bound  into  my  hands,  which  some  of  his  soldiers  accord- 
ingly did,  pushing  them  forwards  with  the  butt-ends  of  their  pikes  into 
my  reach  ; I took  them  all  in  my  right  hand,  put  five  of  them  into  my 
coat-pocket,  and  as  to  the  sixth,  I made  a countenance  as  if  I would 
cat  him  alive.  The  poor  man  squalled  terribly  and  the  colonel  and  his 
officers  were  in  much  pain,  especially  when  they  saw  me  take  out  my 
penknife  : but  I soon  put  them  out  of  fear ; for,  looking  mildly,  and 
immediately  cutting  the  strings  he  was  bound  with,  I set  him  gently 
on  the  ground,  and  away  he  ran ; I treated  the  rest  in  the  same 
manner,  taking  them  one  by  one  out  of  my  pocket,  and  I observed 
both  the  soldiers  and  people  were  highly  obliged  at  this  mark  of  my 
clemency,  which  was  represented  very  much  to  my  advantage  at  court. 

Towards  night  I got  with  some  difficulty  into  my  house,  where  I lay 
on  the  ground,  and  continued  to  do  so  about  a fortnight ; during  which 
time  the  Emperor  gave  orders  to  have  a bed  prepared  for  me.  Six 
hundred  beds  of  the  common  measure,  were  brought  in  carriages  and 
worked  up  in  my  house,  an  hundred  and  fifty  of  their  beds  sewn  together 
made  up  the  breadth  and  length,  and  these  were  four  double,  which 
however  kept  me  but  very  indifferently  from  the  hardness  of  the  floor, 
that  was  of  smooth  stone.  By  the  same  computation  they  provided 
me  with  sheets,  blankets,  and  coverlets,  tolerable  enough  for  one  who 
had  been  so  long  inured  to  hardships  as  I. 

As  the  news  of  my  arrival  spread  through  the  kingdom,  it  brought 
prodigious  numbers  of  rich,  idle,  and  curious  people  to  see  me ; so  that 
the  villages  were  almost  emptied,  and  great  neglect  of  tillage  and 
household  affairs  must  have  ensued,  if  his  Imperial  Majesty  had  not 
provided  by  several  proclamations  and  orders  of  state  against  this 


14 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


inconveniency.  He  directed  that  those,  who  had  already  beheld  me, 
should  return  home,  and  not  presume  to  come  within  fifty  yards  of  my 
house,  without  licence  from  court,  whereby  the  secretaries  of  state  got 
considerable  fees. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  Emperor  held  frequent  councils  to  debate 
•what  course  should  be  taken  with  me  ; and  I was  afterwards  assured 
by  a particular  friend,  a person  of  great  quality,  who  was  looked  upon 
to  be  as  much  in  the  secret  as  any,  that  the  court  was  under  many 
difficulties  concerning  me.  They  apprehended  my  breaking  loose,  that 
my  diet  would  be  very  expensive,  and  might  cause  a famine.  Some- 
times they  determined  to  starve  me,  or  at  least  to  shoot  me  in  the  face 
and  hands  with  poisoned  arrows,  which  would  soon  dispatch  me  : but 
again  they  considered,  that  the  stench  of  so  large  a carcase  might  pro- 
duce a plague  in  the  metropolis,  and  probably  spread  through  the 
whole  kingdom.  In  the  midst  of  these  consultations,  several  officers 
of  the  army  went  to  the  door  of  the  great  council  chamber  ; and  two 
of  them  being  admitted,  gave  an  account  of  my  behaviour  to  the  six 
criminals  above-mentioned,  which  made  so  favourable  an  impression 
in  the  breast  of  his  Majesty  and  the  whole  Board  in  my  behalf,  that  an 
imperial  commission  was  issued  out,  obliging  all  the  villages  nine 
hundred  yards  round  the  city,  to  deliver  in  every  morning  six  beeves, 
forty  sheep,  and  other  victuals  for  my  sustenance ; together  with  a 
proportionable  quantity  of  bread,  and  wine,  and  other  liquors  : for  the 
due  payment  of  which,  his  Majesty  gave  assignments  upon  his  treasury. 
For  this  prince  lives  chiefly  upon  his  own  demesnes,  seldom,  except  , 
upon  great  occasions,  raising  any  subsidies  upon  his  subjects,  who  are 
bound  to  attend  him  in  his  wars  at  their  own  expense.  An  establish- 
ment was  also  made  of  six  hundred  persons  to  be  my  domestics,  who 
had  board-wages  allowed  for  their  maintenance,  and  tents  built  for  . 
them  very  conveniently  on  each  side  of  my  door.  It  was  likewise 
ordered,  that  three  hundred  tailors  should  make  me  a suit  of  clothes 
after  the  fashion  of  the  country  : that  six  of  his  Majesty’s  greatest 
scholars  should  be  employed  to  instruct  me  in  their  language  : and, 
lastly,  that  the  Emperor’s  horses,  and  those  of  the  nobility,  and  troops 
of  guards,  should  be  frequently  exercised  in  my  sight,  to  accustom 
themselves  to  me.  All  these  orders  were  duly  put  in  execution,  and  in 
about  three  weeks  I made  a great  progress  in  learning  their  language  ; | 
during  which  time,  the  Empeior  frequently  honoured  me  with  his  visits, 
and  was  pleased  to  assist  my  masters  in  teaching  me.  We  began 
already  to  converse  together  in  some  sort ; and  the  tirst  words  I learnt 
vrere  to  express  my  desire  that  he  would  please  to  give  me  my  liberty, 
which  I every  day  repeated  on  my  knees.  His  answer,  as  I could 
apprehend  it,  was,  that  this  must  be  a work  of  time,  not  to  be  thought 
on  without  the  advice  of  council,  and  that  first  I must  “ Lumos  Kelmin 
pesso  desmar  Ion  Emposo  that  is,  swear  a peace  with  him  and  his 
kingdom.  However,  that  I should  be  used  with  all  kindness,  and  he 
advised  me  to  acquire  by  my  patience,  and  discreet  behaviour,  the 
good  opinion  of  himself  and  his  subjects.  He  desired  I would  not 
take  it  ill  if  he  gave  orders  to  certain  proper  officers  to  search  me  ; for  ! 
probably  I might  carry  about  me  several  weapons,  whjch  must  needs  ! 
be  dangerous  things,  if  they  answered  the  hulk  of  so  prodigious  a 


A VOYAGE  TO  ULLIPUT \ 


M 

person.  I said,  his  Majesty  should  be  satisfied,  for  I was  ready  to 
strip  myself,  and  turn  up  my  pockets  before  him.  This  I deliveied 
part  in  words,  and  part  in  signs.  He  replied,  that  by  the  laws  of  the 
kingdom  I must  be  searched  by  two  of  his  officers  ; that  he  knew  this 
could  not  be  done  without  my  consent  and  assistance  ; that  he  had  so 
good  an  opinion  of  my  generosity  and  justice,  as  to  trust  their  persons 
in  my  hands:  that  whatever  they  took  from  me  should  be  returned 
when  I left  the  country,  or  paid  for  at  the  rate  which  I would  set  upon 
them.  1 took  up  the  two  officers  in  my  hands,  put  them  first  into  my 
caat-pockets,  and  then  into  every  other  pocket  about  me,  except  my 
two  fobs,  and  another  secret  Docket  I had  no  mind  should  be  searched, 
wherein  I had  some  little  necessaries  that  were  of  no  consequence  to 
any  but  myself.  In  one  of  my  fobs  there  was  a silver  watch,  and  in 
Che  other  a small  quantity  of  gold  in  a purse.  These  gentlemen, 
having  nen,  ink  and  paper  about  them,  made  an  exact  inventory  of 
everything  they  saw  ; and  when  they  had  done,  desired  I would  set 
them  down,  that  they  might  deliver  it  to  the  Emperor.  This  inventory 
I afterwards  translated  into  English,  and  is  word  for  word  as  follows. 

Imprimis,  in  the  right  coat  pocket  of  the  great  Man-mountain  (for 
so  I interpret  the  words  “Quinbus  Fiestrin”),  after  the  strictest  search, 
we  found  only  one  great  piece  of  coarse  cloth,  large  enough  to  be  a 
foot-cloth  for  your  Majesty’s  chief  room  of  state.  In  the  left  pocket  we 
saw  a huge  silver  chest,  with  a cover  of  the  same  metal,  which  we, 
the  searchers,  were  not  able  to  lift.  We  desired  it  should  be  opened, 
and,  one  of  us  stepping  into  it,  found  himself  up  to  the  mid-leg  in  a 
sort  of  dust,  some  part  whereof  flying  up  to  our  faces,  set  us  both  a- 
sneezing  for  several  times  together.  In  his  right  waistcoat  pocket  we 
found  a prodigious  bundle  of  white  thin  substances,  folded  one  over 
another,  about  the  bigness  of  three  men,  tied  with  a strong  cable,  and 
marked  with  black  figures,  which  we  humbly  conceive  to  be  writings, 
every  letter  almost  half  as  large  as  the  palm  of  our  hands.  In  the 
left  there  was  a sort  of  engine,  from  the  back  of  which  were  extended 
twenty  long  poles,  resembling  the  pallisados  before  your  Majesty’s 
jcourt ; wherewith  we  conjecture  the  Man-mountain  combs  his  head, 
for  we  did  not  always  trouble  him  with  questions,  because  we  found  it 
a great  difficulty  to  make  him  understand  us.  In  the  large  pocket  on 
the  right  side  of  his  middle  cover  (so  I translate  the  word  “ Ranfu-Lo,” 
by  which  they  meant  my  breeches)  we  saw  a hollow  pillar  of  iron, 
about  the  length  of  a man,  fastened  to  a strong  piece  of  timber,  larger 
than  the  pillar ; and  upon  one  side  of  the  pillar  were  huge  pieces  of 
iron  sticking  out,  cut  into  strange  figures,  which  we  know  not  what  to 
make  of.  In  the  left  pocket  another  engine  of  the  same  kind.  In  the 
smaller  pocket  on  the  right  side  were  several  round  flat  pieces  of  white 
and  red  metal,  of  different  bulk  ; some  of  the  white,  which  seemed  to 
be  silver,  were  so  large  and  heavy  that  my  comrade  and  I could  hardly 
lift  them.  In  the  left  pocket  were  two  black  pillars  irregularly  shaped ; 
we  could  not  without  difficulty  reach  the  top  of  them  as  we  stood  at 
the  bottom  of  his  pocket.  One  of  them  was  covered,  and  seemed  all 
of  a piece  ; but  at  the  upper  end  of  the  other  there  appeared  a white 
round  substance,  about  twice  the  bigness  of  our  heads.  Within  each 
of  these  was  enclosed  a prodigious  plate  of  steel,  which  by  our  oraei* 


i6 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS ; 


we  obliged  him  to  show  us,  because  we  apprehended  they  might  be 
dangerous  engines.  He  took  them  out  of  their  cases,  and  told  us  that  ; 
in  his  own  country  his  practice  was  to  shave  his  beard  with  one  of 
these,  and  to  cut  his  meat  with  the  other.  There  were  two  pockets  ! 
which  we  could  not  enter  ; these  he  called  his  fobs  ; they  were  two 
large  slits  cut  into  the  top  of  his  middle  cover,  but  squeezed  close  by  j 
the  pressure  of  his  belly.  Out  of  the  right  fob  hung  a great  silver 
chain,  with  a wonderful  kind  of  engine  at  the  bottom.  We  directed 
him  to  draw  out  whatever  was  fastened  to  that  chain  ; which  appeared 
to  be  a globe,  half  silver,  and  half  of  some  transparent  metal ; for  on 
the  transparent  side  we  saw  certain  strange  figures  circularly  drawn,  j 
and  thought  we  tould  touch  them,  till  we  found  our  fingers  stopped  by  | 
that  lucid  substance.  He  put  this  engine  to  our  ears,  which  made  an  j 
incessant  noise  like  that  of  a water-mill.  And  we  conjecture  it  is  ,1 
either  some  unknown  animal,  or  the  God  that  he  worships ; but  we  are 
more  inclined  to  the  latter  opinion,  because  he  assured  us  (if  we  under- 
stood him  right,  for  he  expressed  himself  very  imperfectly)  that  he 
seldom  did  anything  without  consulting  it.  He  called  it  his  oracle,  ; 
and  said  it  pointed  out  the  time  for  every  action  of  his  life.  From  the 
left  fob  he  took  out  a net  almost  large  enough  for  a fisherman,  but 
contrived  to  open  and  shut  like  a purse,  and  served  him  for  the  same 
use.  We  found  therein  several  massy  pieces  of  yellow  metal,  which,  if 
they  be  real  gold,  must  be  of  immense  value. 

Having  thus,  in  obedience  to  your  Majesty’s  commands,  diligently 
searched  all  his  pockets,  we  observed  a girdle  about  his  waist  made  of 
the  hide  of  some  prodigious  animal,  from  which,  on  the  left  side,  hung 
a sword  of  the  length  of  five  men  ; and  on  the  right,  a bag  or  pouch 
divided  into  two  cells,  each  cell  capable  of  holding  three  of  your  Ma- 
jesty’s subjects.  In  one  of  these  cells  were  seveial  globes  or  balls  of  a 
most  ponderous  metal,  about  the  bigness  of  our  heads,  and  required  a j 
strong  hand  to  lift  them.  The  other  cell  contained  a heap  of  certain 
black  grains,  but  of  no  great  bulk  or  weight,  for  we  could  hold  above 
fifty  of  them  in  the  palms  of  our  hands. 

This  is  an  exact  inventory  of  what  we  found  about  the  body  of  the 
Man-mountain,  who  used  us  with  great  civility,  and  due  respect  to 
your  Majesty’s  commission.  Signed  and  sealed  on  the  fourth  day  of' 
the  eighty-ninth  moon  of  your  Majesty’s  auspicious  reign. 

Clefren  Frelock,  Marsi  Frelock. 

When  this  inventory  was  read  over  to  the  Emperor,  he  directed  me, 
although  in  very  gentle  terms,  to  deliver  up  the  several  particulars. 
He  first  called  for  my  scimitar,  which  I took  out,  scabbard  and  all. 
In  the  meantime  he  ordered  three  thousand  of  his  choicest  troops  (who 
then  attended  him)  to  surround  me  at  a distance,  with  their  bows  and 
arrows  just  ready  to  discharge  ; but  I did  not  observe  it,  for  my  eyes 
were  wholly  fixed  upon  his  Majesty.  He  then  desired  me  to  draw  my 
scimitar,  which,  although  it  had  got  some  rust  by  the  sea-water,  was 
in  most  parts  exceeding  bright.  I did  so,  and  immediately  all  the 
troops  gave  a shout  between  terror  and  surprise  ; for  the  sun  shone 
clear,  and  the  reflection  dazzled  their  eyes  as  I waved  the  scimitar  to 
and  fro  in  my  hand.  His  Majesty,  who  is  a most  magnanimous  princ^ 


A VOYAGE  TO  LILLI  PUT. 


*7 

was  less  daunted  than  I could  expect  ; he  ordered  me  to  return  it 
into  the  scabbard,  and  cast  it  on  the  ground  as  gently  as  I could,  about 
six  foot  from  the  end  of  my  chain.  The  next  thing  he  demanded  was 
one  of  the  hollow  iron  pillars,  by  which  he  meant  my  pocket-pistols. 
I drew  it  out,  and,  at  his  desire,  as  well  as  I could,  expressed  to  him 
the  use  of  it ; and  charging  it  only  with  powder,  which  by  the  close- 
ness of  my  pouch  happened  to  escape  wetting  in  the  sea  (an  inconve- 
nience against  which  all  prudent  mariners  take  special  care  to  pro- 
vide), I first  cautioned  the  Emperor  not  to  be  afraid,  and  then  I let  it 
off  in  the  air.  The  astonishment  here  was  much  greater  than  at  the 
sight  of  my  scimitar.  Hundreds  fell  down  as  if  they  had  been  struck 
dead  ; and  even  the  Emperor,  although  he  stood  his  ground,  could 
not  recover  himself  in  some  time.  I delivered  up  both  my  pistols  in 
the  same  manner  as  I had  done  my  scimitar,  and  then  my  pouch  of 
powder  and  bullets,  begging  him  that  the  former  might  be  kept  from 
the  fire,  for  it  would  kindle  with  the  smallest  spark,  and  blow  up  his 
imperial  palace  into  the  air.  I likewise  delivered  up  my  watch,  which 
the  Emperor  was  very  curious  to  see,  and  commanded  two  of  his 
tallest  yeomen  or  the  guards  to  bear  it  on  a pole  upon  their  shoulders, 
as  draymen  in  England  do  a barrel  of  ale.  He  was  amazed  at  the 
continual  noise  it  made,  and  the  motion  of  the  minute-hand,  which 
he  could  easily  discern,  for  their  sight  is  much  more  acute  than  ours, 
and  asked  the  opinions  of  his  learned  men  about  him,  which  were 
various  and  remote,  as  the  reader  may  well  imagine  without  my 
repeating,  although  indeed  I could  not  very  perfectly  understand  the  n. 
I then  gave  up  my  silver  and  copper  money,  my  purse  with  nine 
large  pieces  of  goid,  and  some  smaller  ones;  my  knife  and  razor,  my 
comb  and  silver  snuff-box,  my  handkerchief  and  journal  book.  My 
scimitar,  pistols,  and  pouch  were  conveyed  in  carriages  to  his  Ma- 
jesty’s stores,  but  the  rest  of  my  goods  were  returned  me. 

I had,  as  I before  observed,  one  private  pocket  which  escaped  their 
search,  wherein  there  was  a pair  of  spectacles  (which  1 sometimes 
use  for  the  weakness  of  my  eyes),  a pocket  perspective,  and  several 
other  little  conveniences,  which  being  ol  no  consequence  to  the  Em- 
peror, I did  not  think  myself  bound  in  honour  to  discover,  and  I 
apprehended  they  might  be  lost  or  spoiled  if  I ventured  them  out  of 
my  possession. 

CHAPTER  III. 

The  author  diverts  the  Emperor  and  his  nobility  of  both  sexes  in  a very  un- 
common manner.  The  diversions  of  the  Court  of  Lilliput  described.  The 
author  has  his  liberty  granted  him  upon  certain  conditions. 

MY  gentleness  and  good  behaviour  had  gained  so  fat  on  the  Em- 
peror and  his  court,  and  indeed  upon  the  army  and  people  in 
general,  that  I began  to  conceive  hopes  of  getting  my  liberty  in  a 
short  time.  I took  all  possible  methods  to  cultivate  this  favourable 
disposition.  The  natives  came  by  degrees  to  be  less  apprehensive  of 
any  danger  from  me.  I would  sometimes  lie  down,  and  let  five  or 
six  of  them  dance  on  my  hand.  And  at  last  the  boys  and  girls  would 
venture  to  come  and  play  at  hide  and  seek  in  my  hair.  I had  now 
made  a good  progress  in  understanding  and  speaking  their  language. 


2 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


The  Emperor  had  a mind  one  day  to  entertain  me  with  several  of  the 
country  shows,  wherein  they  exceed  all  nations  I have  known,  both  for 
dexterity  and  magnificence.  I was  diverted  with  none  so  much  as 
that  of  the  rope-dancers,  performed  upon  a slender  white  thread,  ex- 
tended about  two  foot,  and  twelve  inches  from  the  ground  ; upon 
which,  I shall  desire  liberty,  with  the  reader’s  patience,  to  enlarge  a little. 

This  diversion  is  only  practised  by  those  persons  who  are  candi- 
dates for  great  employments  and  high  favour  at  court.  They  are 
trained  in  this  art  from  their  youth,  and  are  not  always  of  noble 
birth  or  liberal  education.  When  a great  office  is  vacant  either  by 
death  or  disgrace  (which  often  happens)  five  or  six  of  those  candi- 
dates petition  the  Emperor  to  entertain  his  Majesty  and  the  Court 
with  a dance  on  the  rope,  and  whoever  jumps  the  highest  without 
falling  succeeds  in  the  office.  Very  often  the  chief  ministers  them- 
selves are  commanded  to  show  their  skill,  and  to  convince  the  Em- 
peror that  they  have  not  lost  their  faculty.  Flimnap,  the  treasurer, 
is  allowed  to  cut  a caper  on  the  straight  rope  at  least  an  inch  higher 
than  any  other  lord  in  the  whole  empire.  I have  seen  him  do  the 
somersault  several  times  together  upon  a trencher  fixed  on  the  rope, 
which  is  no  thicker  than  a common  pack-thread  in  England.  My 
friend  Reldresal,  principal  secretary  for  private  affairs,  is,  in  my 
opinion,  if  I am  not  partial,  the  second  after  the  treasurer  ; the  rest  of 
the  great  officers  are  much  upon  a par. 

These  diversions  are  often  attended  with  fatal  accidents,  whereof 
great  numbers  are  on  record.  I myself  have  seen  two  or  three  candi- 
dates break  a limb.  But  the  danger  is  much  greater  when  the  minis- : 
ters  themselves  are  commanded  to  show  their  dexterity  ; for,  by  con- 
tending to  excel  themselves  and  their  fellows,  they  strain  so  far,  that 
there  is  hardly  one  of  them  who  hath  not  received  a fall,  and  some  of 
them  two  or  three.  I was  assured  that  a year  or  two  before  my  arrival' 
4‘ Flimnap”  would  have  infallibly  broken  his  neck  if  one  of  the  king’s 
cushions,  that  accidentally  lay  on  the  ground,  had  not  weakened  the 
force  of  his  fall. 

There  is  likewise  another  diversion  which  is  only  shown  before  the 
Emperor  and  Empress,  and  first  minister,  upon  particular  occasions.. 
The  Emperor  lays  on  a table  three  fine  silken  threads  of  six  inches  1 
long.  One  is  purple,  the  other  yellow,  and  the  third  white.  These; 
threads  are  proposed  as  prizes  for  those  persons  whom  the  Emperon 
hath  a mind  to  distinguish  by  a peculiar  mark  of  his  favour.  The1 
ceremony  is  performed  in  his  Majesty’s  great  chamber  of  state,  where'  1 
the  candidates  are  to  undergo  a trial  of  dexterity  very  different  fronf 
the  former,  and  such  as  I have  not  observed  the  least  resemblance  of 
in  any  other  country  of  the  old  or  the  new  world.  The  Emperor  holds 
a stick  in  his  hands,  both  ends  parallel  to  the  horizon,  while  the  candi- 
dates  advancing  one  by  one,  sometimes  leap  over  the  stick,  sometimes 
creep  under  it  backwards  and  forwards  several  times,  according  as  the 
stick  is  advanced  or  depressed.  Sometimes  the  Emperor  holds  one 
end  of  the  stick,  and  his  first  minister  the  other  ; sometimes  the  min- 
ister has  it  entirely  to  himself.  Whoever  performs  his  part  with  most  i 
agility,  and  holds  out  the  longest  in  leaping  and  creeping  is  rewarded) 
with  the  purple-coloured  silk;  the  yellow  is  given  to  the  next,  and  the: 


A VOYAGE  TO  LILLI  PUT. 


19 


white  to  the  third,  which  they  all  were  girt  twice  round  about  the 
middle  ; and  you  see  few  great  persons  about  this  court  who  are  not 
adorned  with  one  of  these  girdles. 

The  horses  of  the  army  and  those  of  the  royal  stables  having  been 
daily  led  before  me  were  no  longer  shy,  but  would  come  up  to  my  very 
feet  without  starting.  The  riders  would  leap  them  over  my  hand  as  I 
held  it  on  the  ground,  and  one  of  the  Emperor’s  huntsmen,  upon  a 
large  courser,  took  my  foot,  shoe  and  all,  which  was  indeed  a prodigious 
leap.  I had  the  good  fortune  to  divert  the  Emperor  one  day  after  a 
very  extraordinary  manner.  I desired  he  would  order  several  sticks  of 
two  foot  high,  and  the  thickness  of  an  ordinary  cane,  to  be  brought 
me,  whereupon  his  Majesty  commanded  the  master  of  his  woods  to 
give  directions  accordingly,  and  the  next  morning  six  woodmen  arrived 
with  as  many  carriages,  drawn  by  eight  horses  to  each.  I took  nine  of 
these  sticks,  and  fixed  them  firmly  in  the  ground  in  a quadrangular 
figure,  two  foot  and  a half  square.  I took  four  other  sticks,  and  tied 
them  parallel  at  each  corner,  aoout  two  foot  from  the  ground  ; then  I 
fastened  my  handkerchief  to  the  nine  sticks  that  stood  erect,  and 
extended  it  on  all  sides  till  it  was  as  tight  as  the  top  of  a drum  ; and 
the  four  parallel  sticks  rising  about  five  inches  higher  than  the  hand- 
kerchief served  as  ledges  on  each  side.  When  I had  finished  my 
work,  I desired  the  Emperor  to  let  a troop  of  his  best  horse,  twenty- 
four  in  number,  come  and  exercise  upon  this  plain.  His  Majesty 
approved  of  the  proposal,  and  I took  them  up  one  by  one  in  my  hands, 
ready  mounted  and  armed,  with  the  proper  officers  to  exercise  them. 
As  soon  as  they  got  into  order  they  divided  into  two  parties,  performed 
mock  skirmishes,  discharged  blunt  arrows,  drew  their  swords,  fled  and 
pursued,  attacked  and  retired,  and  in  short  discovered  the  best  military 
discipline  I ever  beheld.  The  parallel  sticks  secured  them  and  their 
horses  from  falling  over  'the  stage  ; and  the  Emperor  was  so  much 
delighted,  that  he  ordered  this  entertainment  to  be  repeated  several 
days,  and  once  was  pleased  to  be  lifted  up,  and  give  the  word  of  com- 
mand; and,  with  great  difficulty,  persuaded  even  the  Empress  herself 
to  let  me  hold  her  in  her  close  chair  within  two  yards  of  the  stage, 
from  whence  she  was  able  to  take  a full  view  of  the  whole  performance. 
It  was  my  good  fortune  that  no  ill  accident  happened  in  these  enter- 
tainments, only  once  a fiery  horse  that  belonged  to  one  of  the  captains 
pawing  with  his  hoof  struck  a hole  in  my  handkerchief,  and  his  foot 
slipping,  he  overthrew  his  rider  and  himself;  but  I immediately  relieved 
them  both,  and,  covering  the  hole  with  one  hand,  I set  down  the  troop 
with  the  other,  in  the  same  manner  as  I took  them  up.  The  horse  that 
fell  was  strained  in  the  left  shoulder,  but  the  rider  got  no  hurt,  and  I 
repaired  my  handkerchief  as  well  as  I could ; however,  I would  not 
trust  to  the  strength  of  it  any  more  in  such  dangerous  enterprises. 

About  two  or  three  days  before  I was  set  at  liberty,  as  I was  enter- 
taining the  court  with  these  kind  of  feats,  there  arrived  an  express  to 
inform  his  Majesty  that  some  of  his  subjects,  riding  near  the  place 
where  I was  first  taken  up,  had  seen  a great  black  substance  lying  on 
the  ground,  very  oddly  shaped,  extending  its  edges  round  as  wide  as 
his  Majesty’s  bed-chamber,  and  rising  up  in  the  middle  as  high  as  a 
man  ; that  it  was  no  living  creature,  as  they  at  first  apprehended,  for 

2—2 


so 


DF A N SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


it  lay  on  the  grass  without  motion,  and  some  of  them  had  walked 
round  it  several  times  ; that  by  mounting  upon  each  other’s  shoulders 
they  had  got  to  the  top,  which  was  flat  and  even,  and  stamping  upon 
it  they  found  it  was  hollow  within  ; that  they  humbly  conceived  it  might 
be  something  belonging  to  the  Man-mountain,  and  if  his  Majesty 
pleased,  they  would  undertake  to  bring  it  with  only  five  horses.  I pre- 
sently knew  what  they  meant,  and  was  glad  at  heart  to  receive  this 
intelligence.  It  seems  upon  my  first  reaching  the  shore  after  our  ship- 
wreck I was  in  such  confusion,  that  before  I came  to  the  place  where 
I went  to  sleep,  my  hat,  which  I had  fastened  with  a string  to  my  head 
while  I was  rowing,  and  had  stu^k  on  all  the  time  I was  swimming,  fell 
off  after  I came  to  land  ; the  string,  as  I conjecture,  breaking  by  some 
accident  which  I never  observed,  but  thought  my  hat  had  been  lost  at 
sea.  I entreated  his  imperial  Majesty  to  give,  orders  it  might  be 
brought  to  me  as  soon  as  possible,  describing  to  him  the  use  and  the 
nature  of  it  ; and  the  next  day  the  waggoners  arrived  with  it,  but  not 
in  a very  good  condition  ; they  had  bored  two  holes  in  the  brim,  within 
an  inch  and  half  of  the  edge,  and  fastened  two  hooks  in  the  holes  ; 
these  hooks  were  tied  by  a long  cord  to  the  harness,  and  thus  my  hat 
was  dragged  along  for  above  half  an  English  mile  ; but  the  ground  in 
that  country  being  extremely  smooth  and  level,  it  received  less  damage  \ 
than  I expected. 

Two  days  after  this  adventure,  the  Emperor  having  ordered  that  part 
of  his  army  which  quarters  in  and  about  his  metropolis  to  be  in  a i 
readiness,  took  a fancy  of  diverting  himself  in  a very  singular  manner.  • 
He  desired  I would  stand  like  a colossus,  with  my  legs  as  far  asunder 
as  I conveniently  could.  He  then  commanded  his  general  (who  was 
an  old  experienced  leader,  and  a great  patron  of  mine)  to  draw  up  the 
troops  in  close  order,  and  march  them  under  me,  the  foot  by  twenty- 
four  in  a breast,  and  the  horse  by  sixteen,  with  drums  beating,  colours 
flying,  and  pikes  advanced.  This  body  consisted  of  three  thousand  ' 
foot,  and  a thousand  horse.  His  Majesty  gave  orders,  upon  pain  of  j 
death,  that  every  soldier  in  his  march  should  observe  the  strictest  1 
decency  with  regard  to  my  person  ; which,  however,  could  not  prevent 
some  of  the  younger  officers  from  turning  up  their  eyes  as  they  passed 
under  me.  And  to  confess  the  truth,  my  breeches  were  at  that  time  in  I 
so  ill  a condition  that  they  afforded  some  opportunities  for  laughter  and 
admiration. 

I had  sent  so  many  memorials  and  petitions  for  my  liberty,  that  his 
Majesty  at  length  mentioned  the  matter  first  in  the  cabinet,  and  then 
in  a full  council,  where  it  was  opposed  by  none,  except  Skyresh  Bol- 
golam,  who  was  pleased,  without  any  provocation,  to  be  my  mortal 
enemy.  But  it  was  carried  against  him  by  the  whole  board,  and  con- 
firmed by  the  Emperor.  That  minister  was  Galbet,  or  Admiral  of 
the  Realm,  very  much  in  his  master’s  confidence,  and  a person  well 
versed  in  affairs,  but  of  a morose  and  sour  complexion.  However,  he 
was  at  length  persuaded  to  comply,  but  prevailed  that  the  articles  and ^ 
conditions  upon  which  I should  be  set  free,  and  to  which  I must  swear, 
should  be  drawn  up  by  himself.  These  articles  were  brought  to  me  by 
Skyresh  Bolgolam  in  person,  attended  by  two  under-secretaries,  and 
several  persons  of  distinction.  After  they  were  read,  1 was  demanded 


A VOYAGE  TO  ULL1PUT. 


2f 


to  swear  to  the  performance  of  them  ; first  in  the  manner  of  my  own 
country,  and  afterwards  in  the  method  prescribed  by  their  laws : which 
was  to  hold  my  right  foot  in  my  left  hand,  to  place  the  middle  finger  oi 
my  right  hand  on  the  crown  of  my  head,  and  my  thumb  on  the  tip  oi 
my  right  ear.  But  because  the  reader  may  perhaps  be  curious  to  have 
some  idea  of  the  style  and  manner  of  expression  peculiar  to  that 
people,  as  well  as  to  know  the  articles  upon  which  I recovered  my 
liberty,  1 have  made  a translation  of  the  whole  instrument  word  for 
wcfrd,  as  near  as  1 was  able,  which  I here  offer  to  the  public. 

Golbasto  Momaren  Evlame  Gurdilo  Shefin  Muliy  Ully  Gue,  most 
mighty  Emperor  of  Lilliput,*  delight  and  terror  of  the  universe,  whose 
dominions  extend  five  thousand  Blustrugs,  (about  twelve  miles  in 
circumference)  to  the  extremities  of  the  globe  ; monarch  of  all  monarchs, 
taller  than  the  sons  of  men  ; whose  feet  press  down  to  the  centre,  and 
whose  head  strikes  against  the  sun  : at  whose  nod  the  princes  of  the 
earth  shake  their  knees  : pleasant  as  the  spring,  comfortable  as  the 
summer,  fruitful  as  autumn,  dreadful  as  winter.  His  most  sublime 
Majesty  proposeth  to  the  Man-mountain,  lately  arrived  to  our  celestial 
dominions,  the  following  articles,  which  by  a solemn  oath  he  shall  be 
obliged  to  perform. 

First. — The  Man-mountain  shall  not  depart  from  our  dominions, 
without  our  licence  under  our  great  seal. 

Second. — He  shall  not  presume  to  come  into  our  metropolis,  without 
our  express  order ; at  which  time  the  inhabitants  snali  have  two  hours 
warning  to  keep  within  their  doors. 

Third. — The  said  Man-mountain  shall  confine  his  walks  to  our 
principal  high  roads,  and  not  offer  to  walk  or  lie  down  in  a meadow  or 
field  of  corn. 

Fourth. — As  he  walks  the  said  roads,  he  shall  take  the  utmost  care 
not  to  trample  upon  the  bodies  of  any  of  our  loving  subjects,  their 
horses,  or  carriages,  nor  take  any  of  our  said  subjects  into  his  hands, 
without  their  own  consent. 

Fifth. — If  an  express  requires  extraordinary  dispatch,  the  man- 
mountain  shall  be  obliged  to  carry  in  his  pocket  the  messenger  ana 
horse  a six  days  journey  once  in  every  moon,  and  return  the  said 
messenger  back  (if  so  required)  safe  to  our  Imperial  presence. 

Sixth. — He  shall  be  our  ally  against  our  enemies  in  the  Island  of 
Blefuscu,  and  do  his  utmost  to  destroy  their  fleet,  which  is  now  pre- 
paring to  invade  us. 

Seventh. — That  the  said  Man-mountain  shall,  at  his  times  of  leisure, 
be  aiding  and  assisting  to  our  workmen,  in  helping  to  raise  certan- 
great  stones,  towards  covering  the  wail  of  the  principal  park,  and  othei 
our  royal  buildings. 

Eighth. — That  the  said  Man-mountain  shall,  in  two  moons  time, 
deliver  in  an  exact  survey  of  the  circumference  of  our  dominions  by  a 
computation  of  his  own  paces  round  the  coast. 

Lastly.— That  upon  his  solemn  oath  to  observe  all  the  above  articles, 
the  said  Man-mountain  shall  have  a daily  allowance  of  meat  and  drink 
sufficient  for  the  support  of  1724  of  our  subjects,  with  free  access  to 
our  royal  person,  ana  other  marks  ot  our  favour.  Given  at  our  Palace 
at  Beltaborac  the  twelfth  day  of  ute  ninety-first  moon  of  our  reign. 


S3 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS . 


I swore  and  subscribed  to  these  articles  with  great  cheerfulness  and 
content,  although  some  of  them  were  not  so  honourable  as  J could 
have  wished  ; which  proceeded  wholly  from  the  malice  of  Skyresh 
Bolgolam,  the  high  Admiral : whereupon  my  chains  were  immediately 
unlocked,  and  I was  at  full  liberty  ; the  Emperor  himself  in  person  did 
me  the  honour  to  be  by  at  the  whole  ceremony.  I made  my  acknow- 
ledgments by  prostrating  myself  at  his  Majesty’s  feet : but  he  com- 
manded me  to  rise  ; and  after  many  gracious  expressions,  which,  to 
avoid  tbe  censure  of  vanity,  I shall  not  repeat,  he  added,  that  he  hoped 
I should  prove  a useful  servant,  and  well  deserve  all  the  favours  he 
had  already  conferred  upon  me,  or  might  do  for  the  future. 

The  reader  may  please  to  observe,  that  in  the  last  article  for  the 
recovery  of  my  liberty,  the  Emperor  stipulates  to  allow  me  a quantity 
of  meat  and  drink  sufficient  for  the  support  of  1724  Lilliputians.  Some 
time  after,  asking  a friend  at  court  how  they  came  to  fix  on  that  deter- 
minate number  ; he  told  me,  that  his  Majesty’s  mathematicians,  having 
taken  the  height  of  my  body  by  the  help  of  a Quadrant,  and  finding 
it  to  exceed  theirs  in  the  proportion  of  twelve  to  one,  they  concluded, 
from  the  similarity  of  their  bodies,  that  mine  must  contain  at  least  1724 
of  theirs,  and  consequently  would  require  as  much  food  as  was  necessary 
to  support  that  number  of  Lilliputians.  By  which,  the  reader  may  con- 
ceive an  idea  of  the  ingenuity  of  that  people,  as  well  as  the  prudent  and 
exact  economy  of  so  great  a prince. 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Mildendo,  the  metropolis  of  Lilliput,  described,  together  with  the  Emperor’s 
Palace.  A conversation  between  the  author  and  a principal  secretary,  con- 
cerning the  affairs  of  that  Empire.  The  author  s offers  to  serve  the  Emperor 
in  his  wars. 

THE  first  request  I made  after  I had  obtained  my  liberty,  was,  that 
I might  have  licence  to  see  Mildendo,  the  metropolis  ; which  the 
Emperor  easily  granted  me,  but  with  a special  charge  to  do  no  hurt, 
either  to  the  inhabitants,  or  their  houses.  The  people  had  notice  by 
proclamation  of  my  design  to  visit  the  town.  The  wall  which  encom- 
passed it,  is  two  foot  and  an  half  high,  and  at  least  eleven  inches  broad, 
so  that  a coach  and  horses  may  be  driven  very  safely  round  it ; and  it 
is  flanked  with  strong  towers  at  ten  foot  distance.  I stepped  over  the 
great  western  gate,  and  passed  very  gently,  and  sideling  through  the 
two  principal  streets,  only  in  my  short  waistcoat,  for  fear  of  damaging 
the  roofs  and  eaves  of  the  houses  with  the  skirts  of  my  coat.  I ^alked 
with  the  utmost  circumspection,  to  avoid  treading  on  any  stragglers, 
that  might  remain  in  the  streets,  although  the  orders  were  very  strict, 
that  all  people  should  keep  in  their  houses,  at  their  own  peril.  The 
garret-windows  and  tops  of  houses  were  so  crowded  with  spectators, 
that  I thought  in  all  my  travels  I had  not  seen  a more  populous  place. 
The  city  is  an  exact  square,  each  side  of  the  wall  being  five  hundred 
foot  long.  The  two  great  streets  which  run  cross  and  divide  it  into 
four  quarters  are  five  foot  wdde.  The  lanes  and  alleys,  which  I could 
not  enter,  but  only  viewed  them  as  I passed,  are  from  twelve  to  eighteen 
inches.  The  town  is  capable  of  holding  five  hundred  thousand  souls 


A VOYAGE  TO  LILLI  PUT. 


*3 

The  houses  are  from  three  to  five  stories.  The  shops  and  markets  well 
provided. 

The  Emperor’s  Palace  is  in  the  centre  of  the  city,  where  the  two 
great  streets  meet.  It  is  inclosed  by  a wall  of  two  foot  high,  and  twenty 
foot  distant  from  the  buildings.  I had  his  Majesty’s  permission  to  step 
over  this  wall  ; and  the  space  being  so  wide  between  that  and  the 
palace,  I could  easily  view  it  on  every  side.  The  outward  court  is  a 
square  of  forty  foot,  and  includes  two  other  courts  : in  the  inmost  are 
the  royal  apartments,  which  I was  very  desirous  to  see,  but  found  it 
extremely  difficult ; for  the  great  gates,  from  one  square  into  another, 
were  but  eighteen  inches  high,  and  seven  inches  wide.  Now  the 
buildings  of  the  outer  court  were  at  least  five  foot  high,  and  it  was 
impossible  for  me  to  stride  over  them,  without  infinite  damage  to  the 
pile,  though  the  walls  were  strongly  built  of  hewn  stone,  and  four 
inches  thick.  At  the  same  time  the  Emperor  had  a great  desire  that 
I should  see  the  magnificence  of  his  palace  ; but  this  I was  not  able 
to  do  till  three  days  after,  which  I spent  in  cutting  down  with  my  knife 
some  of  the  largest  trees  in  the  royal  park,  about  an  hundred  yards 
distant  from  the  city.  Of  these  trees  I made  two  stools,  each  about 
three  foot  high,  and  strong  enough  to  bear  my  weight.  The  people 
having  received  notice  a second  time,  I went  again  through  the  city  to 
the  palace,  with  my  two  stools  in  my  hands.  When  I came  to  the  side 
of  the  outer  court,  I stood  upon  one  stool,  and  took  the  other  in  my 
hand  : this  I lifted  over  the  roof,  and  gently  set  it  down  on  the  space 
between  the  first  and  second  court,  which  was  eight  foot  wide.  I then 
stepped  over  the  buildings  very  conveniently  from  one  stool  to  the 
other,  and  drew  up  the  first  after  me  with  a hooked  stick.  By  this 
contrivance  I got  into  the  inmost  court ; and  lying  down  upon  my  side, 
I applied  my  face  to  the  windows  of  the  middle  stories,  which  were 
left  open  on  purpose,  and  discovered  the  most  splendid  apartments  that 
can  be  imagined.  There  I saw  the  Empress,  and  the  young  Princes  in 
their  several  lodgings,  with  their  chief  attendants  about  them.  Her 
Imperial  Majesty  was  pleased  to  smile  very  graciously  upon  me,  and 
gave  me  out  of  the  window  her  hand  to  kiss. 

But  I shall  not  anticipate  the  reader  with  further  descriptions  of  this 
kind,  because  I reserve  them  for  a greater  work,  which  is  now  almost 
ready  for  the  press,  containing  a general  description  of  this  Empire, 
from  its  first  erection,  through  a long  series  of  princes,  with  a particular 
account  of  their  wars  and  politics,  laws,  learning,  and  religion  : their 
plants  and  animals,  their  peculiar  manners  and  customs,  with  other 
matters  very  curious  and  useful ; my  chief  design  at  present  being  only 
to  relate  such  events  and  transactions  as  nappened  to  the  public,  or  to 
myself,  during  a residence  of  about  nine  months  in  that  Empire.  • 
vOne  morning,  about  a fortnight  after  I had  obtained  my  liberty, 
Keldresal.  principal  secretary  (as  they  style  him)  of  private  affairs, 
fiame  to  my  house,  attended  only  by  one  servant.  He  ordered  his 
ioach  to  wait  at  a distance,  and  desired  I would  give  him  an  hours 
^audience  ; which  I readily  consented  to,  on  account  of  his  quality,  and 
personal  merits,  as  well  as  the  many  good  offices  he  had  aone  me 
[during  my  solicitations  at  court.  I offered  to  he  down,  that  ne  mi  gat 
[the  more  conveniently  reach  my  ear ; but  he  chose  rather  to  let  ma 


24 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


hold  him  in  my  hand  during  our  conversation.  He  began  with  com- 
pliments on  my  liberty,  said  he  might  pretend  to  some  merit  in  it : but, 
however,  added,  that  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  present  situation  of 
things  at  court,  perhaps  I might  not  have  obtained  it  so  soon.  For, 
said  he,  as  flourishing  a condition  as  we  may  appear  to  be  in  to 
foreigners,  we  labour  under  two  mighty  evils  ; a violent  faction  at 
home,  and  the  danger  of  an  invasion  by  a most  potent  enemy  from 
abroad.  As  to  the  first,  you  are  to  understand,  that  for  above  seventy 
moons  past,  there  have  been  two  struggling  parties  in  this  Empire, 
under  the  names  of  Tramecksan,  and  Slamecksan,  from  the  high  and 
low  heels  on  their  shoes,  by  which  they  distinguish  themselves,  /itls 
alleged,  indeed,  that  the  high  heels  are  most  agreeable  to  ouPancient 
constitution  : but  however  this  be,  his  Majesty  hath  determined  to 
make  use  of  only  low  heels  in  the  administration  of  the  government, 
and  all  offices  in  the  gift  of  the  crown,  as  you  cannot  but  observe  ; and 
particularly,  that  his  Majesty’s  Imperial  heels  are  lower  at  least  by  a 
drurr  than  any  of  his  court  (drurr  is  a measure  about  the  fourteenth 
part  of  an  inch).  The  animosities  between  these  two  parties  run  so 
high,  that  they  will  neither  eat  nor  drink  nor  talk  with j^acljL^her.  v 
We  compute  the  Tramecksan,  or  high  heels,  to  exceed  us  in  number  ; 
but  the  power  is  wholly  on  our  side.  We  apprehend  his  Imperial 
Highness,  the  heir  to  the  crown,  to  have  some  tendency  towards  the 
high-heels  ; at  least,  we  can  plainly  discover  one  of  his  heels  higher  * 
than  the  other,  which  gives  him  a hobble  in  his  gait.  Now,  in  the 
midst  of  these  intestine  disquiets,  we  are  threatened  with  an  invasion 
from  the  Island  of  Blefuscu,  which  is  the  other  great  Empire  of  the  j 
Universe,  almost  as  large  and  powerful  as  this  of  his  Majesty.  For  as  i 
to  what  we  have  heard  you  affirm,  that  there  are  other  kingdoms  and 
states  in  the  world,  inhabited  by  human  creatures  as  large  as  yourself, 
our  philosophers  are  in  much  doubt,  and  would  rather  conjecture  that 
you  dropped  from  the  moon,  or  one  of  the  stars  ; because  it  is  certain, 
that  an  hundred  mortals  of  your  bulk  would,  in  a short  time,  destroy 
all  the  fruits  and  cattle  of  his  Majesty’s  dominions.  Besides,  our 
histories  of  six  thousand  moons  make  no  mention  of  any  other  regions, 
than  the  two  great  Empires  of  Lilliput  and  Blefuscu.  Which  two 
mighty  powers  have,  as  I was  going  to  tell  you,  been  engaged  in  a 
most  obstinate  war  for  six  and  thirty  moons  past.  It  began  upon  the 
following  occasion.  It  is  allowed  on  all  hands,  that  the  primitive  way 
of  breaking  eggs  before  we  eat  them  was  upon  the  larger  end  : but  his 
present  Majesty’s  grandfather,  while  he  was  a boy,  going  to  eat  an  egg, 
and  breaking  it  according  to  the  ancient  practice,  happened  to  cut  one 
of  his  fingers.  Whereupon  the  Emperor,  his  father,  published  an 
edict,  commanding  all  his  subjects,  upon  great  penalties,  to  break  the 
smaller  end  of  their  eggs.  The  people  so  highly  resented  this  law,  * 
that  our  histories  tell  us  there  have  been  six  rebellions  raised  on  that 
account  ; wherein  one  Emperor  lost  his  life,  and  another  his  crow  n.  I 
These  civil  commotions  were  constantly  fomented  by  the  Monarchs  I 
Blefuscu  ; and  when  they  were  quelled,  the  exiles  always  fled  for  refuge 
to  that  Empire.  It  is  computed,  that  eleven  thousand  persons  have,  at 
several  times,  suffered  death,  rather  than  submit  to  break  their  eggs  at 
Uie  smaller  end.  Many  hundred  large  volumes  have  oeen  pubiisned  ; 


A VOYAGE  TO  LILLI  PUT. 


upon  this  controversy  : but  the  books  of  the  Big-Endians  have  been 
long  forbidden,  and  the  whole  party  rendered  incapable  by  law  of  hold- 
ing employments.  During  the  course  of  these  troubles,  the  Emperors 
of  Blefuscu  did  frequently  expostulate  by  their  ambassadors,  accusing 
us  of  making  a schism  in  religion,  by  offending  against  a fundamental 
doctrine  of  our  great  Prophet  Lustrog,  in  the  fifty-fourth  chapter  of  the 
Blundecral,  (which  is  their  Alcoran).  This,  however,  is  thought  to  be 
a mere  strain  upon  the  text : for  the  words  are  these  ; “ That  all  true 
believers  shall  break  their  eggs  at  the  convenient  end  and  which  is 
the  convenient  end,  seems,  in  my  humble  opinion,  to  be  left  to  every 
man’s  conscience,  or  at  least  in  the  power  of  the  chief  magistrate  to 
determine.  Now,  the  Big-Endian  exiles  have  found  so  much  credit  in 
the  Emperor  of  Blefuscu’s  court,  and  so  much  private  assistance  and 
encouragement  from  their  party  here  at  home,  that  a bloody  war  hath 
been  carried  on  between  the  two  Empires  for  six  and  thirty  moons  with 
various  success  ; during  which  time  we  have  lost  forty  capital  ships, 
and  a much  greater  number  of  smaller  vessels,  together  with  thirty 
thousand  of  our  best  seamen  and  soldiers  ; and  the  damage  received 
by  the  enemy  is  reckoned  to  be  somewhat  greater  than  ours.  How- 
ever, they  have  now  equipped  a numerous  fleet,  and  are  just  preparing 
to  make  a descent  upon  us  ; and  his  Imperial  Majesty,  placing  great 
confidence  in  your  valour  and  strength,  hath  commanded  me  to  lay 
this  account  of  his  affairs  before  you. 

I desired  the  secretary  to  present  my  humble  duty  to  the  Emperor, 
and  to  let  him  know,  that  I thought  it  would  not  become  me,  who  was 
a foreigner,  to  interfere  with  parties  ; but  I was  ready,  with  the  hazard 
of  my  life,  to  defend  his  person  and  state  against  all  invaders. 

CHAPTER  V. 

The  author  by  an  extraordinary  stratagem  prevents  an  invasion.  A nigh  title 
of  honour  is  conferred  upon  him.  Ambassadors  arrive  from  the  Emperor  oi 
Blefuscu,  and  sue  for  peace.  The  Empress’s  apartment  on  fire  by  an  accident ; 
the  author  instrumental  in  saving  the  rest  of  the  Palace. 

THE  Empire  of  Blefuscu  is  an  island,  situated  to  the  north  north- 
east side  of  Lilliput,  from  whence  it  is  parted  only  by  a channel 
of  eight  hundred  yards  wide.  I had  not  yet  seen  it,  and  upon  this 
notice  of  an  intended  invasion,  I avoided  appearing  on  that  side  of  the 
coast,  for  fear  of  being  discovered  by  some  of  the  enemy’s  ships,  who 
had  received  no  intelligence  of  me,  all  intercourse  between  the  two 
Empires  having  been  strictly  forbidden  during  the  war,  upon  pain  of 
death,  and  an  embargo  laid  by  our  Emperor  upon  all  vessels  vvhatso* 
ever.  I communicated  to  his  Majesty  a project  I had  formed  of  seizing 
the  enemy’s  whole  fleet  : which,  as  our  scouts  assured  us,  lay  at  anchor 
in  the  harbour  ready  to  sail  with  the  first  fair  wind.  I consulted  the 
most  experienced  seamen,  upon  the  depth  of  the  channel,  which  they 
had  often  plummed,  who  told  me,  that  in  the  middle  at  high-water  it 
was  seventy  Glumgluffs  deep,  which  is  about  six  foot  of  European 
measure  ; and  the  rest  of  it  fifty  Glumgluffs  at  most.  I walker 
towards  the  north-east  coast  over  against  Blefuscu  ; and  lying  down 
behind  a hillock,  took  out  my  small  pocket  perspective-glass,  am*. 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 

viewed  the  enemy's  fleet  at  anchor,  consisting  of  about  fifty  men  oi 
war,  and  a great  number  of  transports  : I then  came  back  to  my  house, 
and  gave  order  (for  which  I had  a warrant)  for  a great  quantity  of  the 
strongest  cable  and  bars  of  iron.  The  cable  was  about  as’  thick  as 
packthread,  and  the  bars  of  the  length  and  size  of  a knitting-needle. 
I trebled  the  cable  to  make  it  stronger,  and  for  the  same  reason  I 
twisted  three  of  the  iron  bars  together,  binding  the  extremities  into  a 
hook.  Having  thus  fixed  fifty  hooks  to  as  many  cables,  I went  back 
to  the  north-east  coast,  and  putting  off  my  coat,  shoes,  and  stockings, 
walked  into  the  sea  in  my  leathern  jerkin,  about  half-an-hour  before 
high  water.  I waded  with  what  haste  I could,  and  swam  in  the  middle 
about  thirty  yards  till  I felt  ground  ; I arrived  to  the  fleet  in  less  than 
half-an-hour.  The  enemy  was  so  frighted  when  they  saw  me,  that 
they  leaped  out  of  their  ships,  and  swam  to  shore,  where  there  could 
not  be  fewer  than  thirty  thousand  souls.  I then  took  my  tackling,  and 
fastening  a hook  to  the  hole  at  the  prow  of  each,  I tied  all  the  cords 
together  at  the  end.  While  I was  thus  employed,  the  enemy  discharged 
several  thousand  arrows,  many  of  which  stuck  in  my  hands  and  face  ; 
and  besides  the  excessive  smart,  gave  me  much  disturbance  in  my 
work.  My  greatest  apprehension  was  for  my  eyes,  which  I should 
have  infallibly  lost,  if  I had  not  suddenly  thought  of  an  expedient.  I 
kept  among  other  little  necessaries  a pair  of  spectacles  in  a private 
pocket,  which,  as  I observed  before,  had  escaped  the  Emperor's 
searchers.  These  I took  out  and  fastened  as  strongly  as  I could  upon 
my  nose,  and  thus  armed  went  on  boldly  with  my  work  in  spite  of 
the  enemy's  arrows,  many  of  which  struck  against  the  glasses  of  my 
spectacles,  but  without  any  other  effect,  further  than  a little  to  discom- 
pose them.  I had  now  fastened  all  the  hooks,  and  taking  the  knot  in 
my  hand,  began  to  pull  ; but  not  a ship  would  stir,  for  they  were  all 
too  fast  held  by  their  anchors,  so  that  the  bold  part  of  my  enterprise 
remained.  I therefore  let  go  the  cord,  and  leaving  the  hooks  fixed  to 
the  ships,  I resolutely  cut  with  my  knife  the  cables  that  fastened  the 
anchors,  receiving  above  two  hundred  shots  in  my  face  and  hands  ; 
then  I took  up  the  knotted  end  of  the  cables  to  which  my  hooks  were 
tied,  and  with  great  ease  drew  fifty  of  the  enemy's  largest  men  of  war 
after  me. 

The  Blefuscudians,  who  had  not  the  least  imagination  of  what  I 
intended,  were  at  first  confounded  with  astonishment.  They  had  seen 
me  cut  the  cables,  and  thought  my  design  was  only  to  let  the  ships* run 
adrift,  or  fall  foul  on  each  other ; but  when  they  perceived  the  whole 
fleet  moving  in  order,  and  saw  me  pulling  at  the  end,  they  set  up  such 
a scream  of  grief  and  despair  that  it  is  almost  impossible  to  describe 
or  conceive.  When  I had  got  out  of  danger,  I stopped  a while  to  pick 
out  the  arrows  that  stuck  in  my  hands  and  face,  and  rubbed  on  some 
of  the  same  ointment  that  was  given  me  on  my  first  arrival,  as  I have 
formerly  mentioned.  I then  took  off  my  spectacles,  and,  waiting  about 
an  hour  till  the  tide  was  a little  fallen,  I waded  through  the  middle  with 
my  cargo,  and  arrived  saTe  at  the  royal  port  of  Liliiput. 

The  Emperor  and  his  wfiiole  court  stood  on  the  shore  expecting  the 
issue  of  this  great  adventure.  They  saw  the  ships  move  forward  ;n  a 
large  half-moon,  but  could  not  discern  me,  who  was  up  to  my  meast 


A VOYAGE  TO  LILLI  PUT. 


V 


in  water.  When  I advanced  to  the  middle  of  the  channel,  they  were 
yet  more  in  pain,  because  I was  under  water  to  my  neck.  The  Em- 
peror concluded  me  to  be  drowned,  and  that  the  enemy’s  fleet  was 
approaching  in  a hostile  manner  ; but  he  was  soon  eased  of  his  fears, 
for,  the  channel  growing  shallower  every  step  I made,  I came  in  a 
short  time  witfiin  hearing,  and  holding  up  the  end  of  the  cable  by 
which  the  fleet  w*as  fastened,  I cried  in  a loud  voice,  “ Long  live  the 
most  puissant  Emperor  of  Lilliput  This  great  prince  received  me 
at  my  landing  with  all  possible  encomiums,  and  created  me  a Nardac 
upon  the  spot,  which  is  the  highest  title  of  honour  among  them. 

His  Majesty  desired  I would  take  some  other  opportunity  of  bringing 
all  the  rest  of  his  enemy’s  ships  into  his  ports.  And  so  unmeasurable 
is  the  ambition  of  princes,  that  he  seemed  to  think  of  nothing  less  than 
reducing  the  whole  empire  of  Blefuscu  into  a province,  and  governing 
it  by  a viceroy  ; of  destroying  the  Big-Endian  exiles,  and  compelling 
that  people  to  break  the  smaller  end  of  their  eggs,  by  which  he  would 
remain  the  sole  monarch  of  the  whole  world.  But  1 endeavoured  to 
divert  him  from  this  design,  by  many  arguments  drawm  from  the  topics 
of  policy  as  well  as  justice  ; and  I plainly  protested  that  I would  never 
be  an  instrument  of  bringing  a free  and  brave  people  into  slavery. - 
And  when  the  matter  was  debated  in  council,  the  wisest  part  of  the 
ministry  were  of  my  opinion. 

This  open  bold  declaration  of  mine  was  so  opposite  to  the  schemes 
and  politics  of  his  imperial  Majesty  that  he  could  never  forgive  it  ; he 
mentioned  it  in  a very  artful  manner  at  council,  where  I was  told  that 
some  of  the  wisest  appeared,  at  least,  by  their  silence,  to  be  of  my 
opinion  ; but  others,  who  were  my  secret  enemies,  could  not  forbear 
some  expressions,  which  by  a side  wind  reflected  on  me.  And  frorn^, 
this  time  began  an  intrigue  between  his  Majesty  and  a junto  of  minis- 
ters maliciously  bent  against  me,  AVhich  broke  out  in  less  than  two 
months,  and  had  like  to  have  ended  in  my  utter  destruction.  Of  so 
little  weight  are  the  greatest  services  to  princes,  when  put  into  the 
balance  with  a refusal  to  gratify  their  passions. 

About  three  weeks  after  this  exploit,  there  arrived  a solemn  embassy 
from  Blefuscu,  with  humble  offers  of  a peace,  which  was  soon  con- 
cluded upon  conditions  very  advantageous  to  our  Emperor,  wherewith 
I shall  not  trouble  the  reader,  There  v\  ere  six  ambassadors,  with  a 
train  of  about  five  hundred  persons,  and  their  entry  was  very  magnifi- 
cent, suitable  to  the  grandeur  of  their  master,  and  the  importance  of 
their  business.  When  their  treaty  was  finished,  wherein  1 did  them 
several  good  offices  by  the  credit  I now  had,  or  at  least  appeared  to 
have,  at  court,  their  Excellencies,  who  were  privately  told  how  much  1 
had  been  their  friend,  made  me  a visit  in  form.  They  began  with 
many  compliments  upon  my  valour  and  generosity,  invited  me  to  that 
kingdom  in  the  Emperor  their  master’s  name,  and  desired  me  to  show 
them  some  proofs  of  my  prodigfous  strength,  of  which  they  had  heard 
so  many  wonders  ; wherein  I readily  obliged  them,  but  shall  not 
trouble  the  reader  with  the  particulars. 

When  I had  for  some  time  entertained  their  Excellencies  to  theif 
infinite  satisiaction  and  surprise,  1 desired  they  would  do  me  the 
honour  to  present  my  most  humble  respects  to  the  Emperor  theii 


23 


DEAN  SWIFT1  S WORKS. 


master,  the  renown  of  whose  virtues  had  so  juitly  filled  the  whole 
world  with  admiration,  and  whose  royal  person  I resolved  to  attend 
before  I returned  to  my  own  country  ; accordingly,  the  next  time  I 
had  the  honour  to  see  our  Emperor,  I desired  his  general  licence  to 
wait  on  the  Blefuscudian  Monarch,  which  he  was  pleased  to  grant  me, 
as  I could  plainly  perceive,  in  a very  cold  manner,  but  could  not  guess 
the  reason,  till  I had  a whisper  from  a certain  person,  that  Flimnap 
and  Bolgolam  had  represented  my  intercourse  with  those  ambassa- 
dors as  a mark  of  disaffection,  from  which  I am  sure  my  heart  was 
wholly  free.  And  this  was  the  first  time  I began  to  conceive  some 
imperfect  idea  of  courts  and  ministers. 

Ibis  to  be  observed  that  these  ambassadors  spoke  to  me  by  an  inter- 
preter, the  languages  of  both  empires  differing  as  much  from  each  other 
as  any  two  in  Europe,  and  each  nation  priding  itself  upon  the  antiquity, 
beauty,  and  energy  of  their  own  tongues,  with  an  avowed  contempt  for 
that  of  their  neighbour  ; yet  our  Emperor,  standing  upon  the  advan- 
tage he  had  got  by  the  seizure  of  their  fleet,  obliged  them  to  deliver 
their  credentials,  and  make  their  speech  in  the  Lilliputian  tongue.  And 
it  must  be  confessed,  that  from  the  great  intercourse  of  trade  and 
commerce  between  both  realms,  from  the  continual  reception  of  exiles, 
which  is  mutual  among  them,  and  from  the  custom  in  each  empire  to 
send  their  young  nobility  and  richer  gentry  to  the  other,  in  order  to 
polish  themselves  by  seeing  the  world,  and  understanding  men  and 
manners,  there  are  few  persons  of  distinction,  or  merchants,  or  seamen, 
who  dwell  in  the  maritime  parts,  but  wiiat  can  hold  conversation  in 
both  tongues  ; as  1 found  some  weeks  after,  when  I went  to  pay  my 
respects  to  the  Emperor  of  Blefuscu,  which  in  the  midst  of  great  mis-  A 
fortunes,  through  the  malice  of  my  enemies,  proved  a very  happy 
adventure  to  me,  as  I shall  relate  in  its  proper  place. 

Tne  reader  may  remember,  that  when  I signed  those  articles  upon 
which  I recovered  my  liberty,  there  were  some  which  1 disliked  upon 
account  of  their  being  too  servile,  neither  could  anything  but  an 
extreme  necessity  have  forced  me  to  submit.  But  being  now  a Nar- 
dac,  of  the  highest  rank  in  that  empire,  such  offices  were  looked 
upon  as  below  my  dignity,  and  the  Emperor  (to  do  him  justice)  never 
once  mentioned  them  to  me.  Howrever,  it  was  not  long  before  I had 
an  opportunity  of  doing  his  Majesty,  at  least  as  I then  thought,  a most 
signal  service.  I was  alarmed  at  midnight  with  the  cries  of  many  i 
hundred  people  at  my  door,  by  which,  being  suddenly  awaked,  I was 
in  sorrfe  kind  of  terror.  I heard  the  word  Burglum  repeated  inces- 
santly ; several  of  the  Emperor  s court  making  their  way  through  the 
crowd,  intreated  me  to  come  immediately  to  the  palace,  where  her 
imperial  Majesty’s  apartment  was  on  fire,  by  the  carelessness  of  a maid 
of  honour,  who  fell  asleep  while  she  was  reading  a romance.  I got  up 
in  an  instant,  and  orders  being  given  to  clear  the  way  before  me,  and 
it  being  likewise  a moon-shine  night,  I made  a shift  to  get  to  the  palace 
without  trampling  on  any  of  the  people.  I found  they  had  already 
applied  ladders  to  the  walls  of  the  apartment,  and  were  well  provided 
with  buckets,  but  the  w^ater  was  at  some  distance.  These  buckets  were 
about  the  size  of  a large  thunble,  and  the  poor  people  supplied  me 
with  them  as  last  as  they  could ; but  the  flame  was  so  violent  that  they 


A VOYAGE  TO  LILLI  PUT 


29 


did  little  good.  I might  easily  have  stifled  it  with  my  coat,  which  I 
unfortunately  left  behind  me  for  haste,  and  came  away  only  in  my 
leathern  jerkin.  The  case  seemed  wholly  desperate  ana  deplorable, 
and  this  magnificent  palace  would  have  infallibly  been  burnt  down  to 
the  ground,  if,  by  a presence  of  mind  unusual  to  me,  I had  not  sud- 
denly thought  of  an  expedient.  I had  the  evening  before  drank  plen- 
tifully of  a most  delicious  wine,  called  Glimigrim  (the  Blefuscudians 
call  it  Flunec,  but  ours  is  esteemed  the  better  sort),  which  is  very 
diuretic.  By  the  luckiest  chance  in  the  world,  I had  not  discharged 
myself  of  any  part  of  it.  The  heat  I had  contracted  by  coming  very 
near  the  flames,  and  by  my  labouring  to  quench  them,  made  the  wine 
begin  to  operate  by  urine,  which  I voided  in  such  a quantity,  and  ap- 
plied so  well  to  the  proper  places,  that  in  three  minutes  the  fire  was 
wholly  extinguished,  and  the  rest  of  that  noble  pile,  which  had  cost  so 
many  ages  in  erecting,  preserved  from  destruction. 

It  was  now  daylight,  and  I returned  to  my  house,  without  waiting  to 
congratulate,  with  the  Emperor,  because,  although  I had  done  a very 
eminent  piece  of  service,  yet  I could  not  tell  how  his  Majesty  mig1“‘* 
resent  the  manner  by  which  I had  performed  it;  for,  by  the 
mental  laws  of  the  realm,  it  is  capital  in  any  person,  of  what 
soever,  to  make  water  within  the  precincts  of  the  palace, 
a little  comforted  by  a message  from  his  Majesty,  that 
orders  to  the  grand  justiciary  for  passing  my  pardon  : 
however,  I could  not  obtain.  And  I was  privately 
press  conceiving  the  greatest  abhorrence  of  what  I 
to  the  most  distant  side  of  the  court,  firmly  resol v 
ings  should  never  be  repaired  for  her  use  ; and,  i 
chief  confidants,  could  not  forbear  vowing  reven 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Of  the  inhabitants  of  Lilliput : their  learning,  laws,  anc 
educating  their  children  ; the  author’s  way  of  living  r 
cation  of  a great  lady. 

ALTHOUGH  I intend  to  leave  the  description 
particular  treatise,  yet  in  the  mean  time  I 
the  curious  reader  with  some  general  ideas.  As  the 
the  natives  is  somewhat  under  six  inches  high,  so 
proportion  in  all  other  animals,  as  well  as  plants  and 
instance,  the  tallest  horses  and  oxen  are  between  four  and 
in  height,  the  sheep  an  inch  and  a half,  more  or  less  ; their  geese  ; 
the  bigness  of  a sparrow,  and  so  the  several  gradations  downwards, 
you  come  to  the  smallest,  which,  to  my  sight,  were  almost  invisible  ; 
but  nature  hath  adapted  the  eyes  of  the  Lilliputians  to  all  objects  proper 
for  their  view  ; they  see  with  great  exactness,  but  at  no  great  distance. 
And  to  show  the  sharpness  of  their  sight  toward  objects  that  are  near, 
I have  been  much  pleased  observing  a cook  pulling  a lark,  which  was 
not  so  large  as  a common  fly  ; and  a young  girl  threading  an  invisible 
needle  with  invisible  silk.  Their  tallest  trees  are  about  seven  foot 
high  : I mean  some  of  those  in  the  great  roval  park,  the  tops  whereof 
£ coaid  but  just  reach  with  my  fist  clenched.  The  other  vegetables 


30  DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 

are  in  the  same  proportion ; but  this  I leave  to  the  reader’s  imagina- 
tion. 

I shall  say  but  little  at  present  of  their  learning,  which  for  many  ages 
hath  flourished  in  all  its  branches  among  them.  But  their  manner  of 
writing  is  very  peculiar,  being  neither  from  the  left  to  the  right,  like 
the  Europeans  ; nor  from  the  right  to  the  left  like  the  Arabians  ; nor 
from  up  to  down,  like  the  Chinese  ; nor  from  down  to  up,  like  the 
Cascagians  ; but  aslant  from  one  corner  of  the  paper  to  the  other,  like 
ladies  in  England. 

They  bury  their  dead  with  their  heads  directly  downwards,  because 
they  hold  an  opinion  that  in  eleven  thousand  moons  they  are  all  to  rise 
again,  in  which  period  the  earth  (which  they  conceive  to  be  flat)  will 
turn  upside  down,  and  by  this  means  they  shall,  at  their  resurrection, 
be  found  ready  standing  on  their  feet.  The  learned  among  them  con- 
fess the  absurdity  of  this  doctrine,  but  the  practice  still  continues,  in 
compliance  to  the  vulgar. 

There  are  some  laws  and  customs  in  this  empire  very  peculiar  ; 
and  if  they  were  not  so  directly  contrary  to  those  of  my  own  dear 
~puntry,  I should  be  tempted  to  say  a little  in  their  justification.  It  is 
be  wished  that  they  were  as  well  executed.  The  first  I shall 
l relates  to  informers.  All  crimes  against  the  state  are  punished 
utmost  severity ; but  if  the  person  accused  maketh  his 
to  appear  upon  his  trial,  the  accuser  is  immediately 
inious  death;  and  out  of  his  goods  or  lands  the  innocent 
Jy  recompensed  for  the  loss  of  his  time,  for  the  danger 
the  hardship  of  his  imprisonment,  and  for  all  the 
at  in  making  his  defence.  Or,  if  that  fund  be 
supplied  by  the  crown.  The  Emperor  does  also 
nublic  mark  of  his  favour,  and  proclamation  is 
through  the  whole  city. 

d as  a greater  crime  than  theft,  and  therefore 
it  with  death  ; for  they  allege  that  care  and 
common  understanding,  may  preserve  a man’s 
but  honesty  has  no  fence  against  superior  cunning  ; 
-essary  that  there  should  be  a perpetual  intercourse 
ing,  and  dealing  upon  credit,  where  fraud  is  permitted 
• hath  no  law  to  punish  it,  the  honest  dealer  is  always 
the  knave  gets  the  advantage.  I remember  when  I was 
with  the  king  for  a criminal  who  had  wronged  his 
f a great  sum  of  money,  which  he  had  received  by  order,  and 
with  ; and  happening  to  tell  his  majesty,  by  way  of  extenua- 
that  it  was  only  a breach  of  trust  ; the  emperor  thought  it 
monstrous  in  me  to  offer,  as  a defence,  the  greatest  aggravation  of  the 
crime  : and  truly  I had  little  to  say  in  return,  farther  than  the  common 
answer,  that  different  nations  had  different  customs ; for  I confess  I 
was  heartily  ashamed.  ✓ 

Although  we  usually  call  reward  and  punishment  the  two  hinges 
upon  which  all  government  turns,  yet  I could  never  observe  this  maxim 
to  be  put  in  practice  by  any  nation  except  that  of  Lilliput.  j Whoever 
can  there  bring  sufficient  proof  that  he  hath  strictly  observed  the  laws 
of  his  country  for  seventy-three  moons,  hath  a claim  to  certain  privi* 


A VOYAGE  TO  LILLI  PUT. 


3* 


leges,  according  to  his  quality  and  condition  of  life,  with  a pro- 
portionable sum  of  money  out  of  a fund  appropriated  for  that  use.  He 
likewise  acquires  the  title  of  Snilpall,  or  legal,  which  is  added  to  his 
name,  but  does  not  descend  to  his  posterity.  Andqheqe  people  thought 
it  a prodigious  defect  of  poiicy  among  us,  when  I told  them  that  our 
laws  were  enforced  only  by  penalties  without  any  mention  of  reward.  It 
is  upon  this  account  that  the  image  of  justice,  in  their  courts  of  judica- 
ture, is  formed  with  six  eyes,  two  before,  as  many  behind,  and  on  each 
side  one,  to  signify  circumspection ; with  a bag  of  gold  open  in  her  right 
hand,  and  a sword  sheathed  in  her  left,  to  show  she  is  more  disposed 
to  reward  than  to  pun i sh- 
in choosing  persons  for  all  employments,  they  have  more  regard  to 
good  morals  than  to  great  abilities  ; for,  since  government  is  necessary 
to  mankind,  they  believe  that  the  common  size  of  human  understand- 
ings is  fitted  to  some  station  or  other,  and  that  Providence  never 
intended  to  make  the  management  of  public  affairs  a mystery,  to  be 
comprehended  only  by  a few  persons  of  sublime  genius,  of  which  there 
seldom  are  three  born  in  an  age  : but  they  suppose  truth,  justice,  tem- 
perance and  the  like  to  be  in  every  man’s  power  ; the  practice  of  which 
virtues,  assisted  by  experience  and  a good  intention,  would  qualify  any 
man  for  the  service  of  his  country,  except  where  a course  of  study  is 
required.  But  they  thought  the  want  of  moral  virtues  was  so  far  from 
being  supplied  by  superior  endowments  of  the  mind,  that  employments 
could  never  be  put  into  such  dangerous  hands  as  those  of  persons  so 
qualified  ; and  at  least,  that  the  mistakes  committed  by  ignorance  in  a 
virtuous  disposition,  would  never  be  of  such  fatal  consequence  to  the 
public  weal  as  the  practices  of  a man  whose  inclinations  led  him  to  be 
corrupt,  and  had  great  abilities  to  manage  and  multiply,  and  defend  his 
corruptions. 

In  like  manner  the  disbelief  of  a divine  providence  renders  a man 
incapable  of  holding  any  public  station  ; for  since  kings  avow  them- 
selves to  be  the  deputies  of  providence,  the  Lilliputians  think  nothing 
can  be  more  absurd  than  for  a prince  to  employ  such  men  as  disown 
the  authority  under  which  he  acts. 

In  relating  these  and  the  following  laws,  I would  only  be  understood 
to  mean  the  original  institutions,  and  not  the  most  scandalous  corrup- 
tions into  which  these  people  are  fallen  by  the  degenerate  nature  of 
man.  For  as  to  that  infamous  practice  of  acquiring  great  employments 
by  dancing  on  the  ropes,  or  badges  of  favour  and  distinction  by  leaping 
over  sticks,  and  creeping  under  them,  the  reader  is  to  observe,  that  they 
wer e first  introduced  by  the  grandfather  of  the  emperor  now  reigning, 
and  grew  to  the  present  height  by  the  gradual  increase  of  party  and 
faction. 

Ingratitude  is  among  them  a capital  crime,  as  we  read  it  to  have  been 
in  some  other  countries  ; for  they  reason  thus,  that  whoever  makes  ill 
returns  to  his  benefactor  must  needs  be  a common  enemy  to  the  lest 
of  mankind,  from  whom  he  hath  received  no  obligation,  and  thereiore 
such  a man  is  not  fit  to  live. 

Their  notions  relating  to  the  duties  of  parents  and  children  differ 
extremely  from  ours.  For,  since  the  conjunction  of  male  and  female  is 
founded  upon  the  great  law  of  nature,  in  order  to  propagate  and  con* 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


3* 

tinue  the  species,  the  Lilliputians  will  needs  have  it,  that  men  and 
women  are  joined  together  like  other  animals,  by  the  motives  of  con- 
cupiscence ; and  that  their  tenderness  towards  their  young  proceeds 
from  the  like  natural  principle  : for  which  reason  they  will  never  allow 
that  a child  is  under  any  obligation  to  his  father  for  begetting  him,  or 
his  mother  for  bringing  him  into  the  world  ; which,  considering  the 
miseries  of  human  life,  was  neither  a benefit  in  itself  or  intended  so  by 
his  parents,  whose  thoughts  in  their  love  encounters  were  otherwise  em- 
ployed. Upon  these  and  the  like  reasonings,  their  opinion  is  that 
parents  are  the  last  of  all  others  to  be  trusted  with  the  education  of  their 
own  children  : and  therefore  they  have  in  every  town  public  nurseries, 
where  all  parents,  except  cottagers  and  labourers,  are  obliged  to  send 
their  infants  of  both  sexes  to  be  reared  and  educated  when  they  come  to 
the  age  of  twenty  moons,  at  which  time  they  are  supposed  to  have  some 
rudiments  of  docility.  These  schools  are  of  several  kinds,  suited  to 
different  qualities  and  to  both  sexes.  They  have  certain  professors 
well  skilled  in  preparing  children  for  such  a condition  of  life  as  befits 
the  rank  of  their  parents,  and  their  own  capacities  as  well  as  inclina- 
tions. I shall  first  say  something  of  the  male  nurseries,  and  then  of  the 
female. 

The  nurseries  for  males  of  noble  or  eminent  birth  are  provided 
wdth  grave  and  learned  professors,  and  their  several  deputies.  The 
clothes  and  food  of  the  children  are  plain  and  simple.  They  are  bred 
up  in  the  principles  of  honour,  justice,  courage,  modesty,  clemency, 
religion,  and  love  of  their  country  ; they  are  always  employed  in  some 
business,  except  in  the  times  of  eating  and  sleeping,  wrhich  are  very 
short,  and  tw*o  hours  for  diversions,  consisting  of  bodily  exercises. 
They  are  Pressed  by  men  till  four  years  of  age,  and  then  are  obliged  to 
dress  themselves,  although  their  quality  be  ever  sc  great ; and  the 
women  attendants,  who  are  aged  proportionably  to  ours  at  fifty,  per- 
form only  the  most  menial  offices.  They  are  never  suffered  to  converse 
with  servants,  but  go  together  in  small  or  greater  numbers  to  take  their 
diversions,  and  always  in  the  presence  of  a professor,  or  one  of  his 
deputies  ; w hereby  they  avoid  those  early  bad  impressions  of  folly  and 
vice  to  which  our  children  are  subject.  Their  parents  are  suffered  to 
see  them  only  twice  a year  ; the  visit  is  to  last  but  an  hour.  They  are 
allowed  to  kiss  the  child  at  meeting  and  parting  ; but  a professor,  who 
always  stands  by  on  those  occasions,  will  not  suffer  them  to  whisper,  or 
use  any  fondling  expressions,  or  bring  any  presents  of  toys,  sweetmeats, 
and  the  like. 

The  pension  from  each  familv  for  the  education  and  entertainment  of 
a child,  upon  failure  of  due  payment,  is  levied  by  the  emperor's  officers. 

The  nurseries  for  children  of  ordinary  gentlemen,  merchants,  traders, 
and  handicrafts,  are  managed  proportionably  after  the  same  manner  ; 
only  those  designed  for  trades  are  put  out  apprentices  at  eleven  years 
old,  whereas  those  of  persons  of  quality  continue  in  th.eir  nurseries  till 
fifteen,  w'hich  answers  to  one  and  twenty  with  us  : but  the  coatinement 
is  gradually  lessened  for  the  last  three  years. 

In  the  female  nurseries,  the  young  girls  of  quality  are  educated  much 
like  the  males,  only  they  are  dressed  by  orderly  servants  of  their  own 
sex,  but  always  in  the  presence  of  a professor  or  deputy,  till  they  come 


A VOYAGE  TO  LILL1PUT. 


33 


to  dress  themselves,  which  is  at  five  years  old.  And  if  it  be  found  thai 
these  nurses  ever  presume  to  entertain  the  girls  with  frightful  or  foolish 
stories,  or  the  common  follies  practised  by  chamber-maids  among  us, 
they  are  publicly  whipped  thrice  about  the  city,  imprisoned  tor  a yeas, 
and  banished  for  life  to  the  most  desolate  part  of  the  country.  Thur 
the  young  ladies  there  are  as  much  ashamed  of  being  cowards  and  tools 
as  the  men,  and  despise  all  personal  ornaments  beyond  decency  and 
cleanliness  : neither  did  -1  perceive  any  difference  in  their  education, 
made  by  their  difference  of  sex,  only  that  the  exercises  of  the  females 
were  not  altogether  so  robust  ; and  that  some  rules  were  given  them 
relating  to  domestic  life,  and  a smaller  compass  of  learning  was  enjoined 
them  : forthe  maxim  is,  that  among  people  of  quality,  a wife  should  ' 
always  a reasonable  and  agreeable  companion,  because  she  cannot 
always  be  young.  When  the  girls  are  twelve  years  old,  which  ainon 
them  is  the  marriageable  age,  their  parents  or  guardians  take  th 
home,  with  great  expressions  of  gratitude  to  the  professors,  and  seld 
without  tears  of  the  young  lady  and  her  companions. 

In  the  nurseries  of  females  of  the  meaner  sort,  the  children  ar 
structed  in  all  kinds  of  works  proper  for  their  sex,  and  their  seve 
degrees  : those  intended  for  apprentices,  are  dismissed  at  nine  years 
the  rest  are  kept  to  thirteen. 

The  meaner  families,  who  have  children  at  these  nurseries,  are 
obliged,  besides  their  annual  pension,  which  is  as  low  as  possible,  to 
return  to  the  steward  of  the  nursery  a small  monthly  share  of  their 
gettings,  to  be  a portion  for  the  child  ; and  therefore  all  parents  are 
limited  in  their  expenses  by  the  law.  For  the  Lilliputians  think  nothing 
can  be  more  unjust,  than  for  people,  in  subservience  to  their  own  ap- 
petites, to  bring  children  into  the  world,  and  leave  the  burthen  of  sup- 
porting them  on  the  public.  As  to  persons  of  quality,  they  give  security 
to  appropriate  a certain  sum  for  each  child,  suitable  to  their  condition  ; 
and  these  funds  are  always  managed  with  good  husbandry,  and  the 
most  exact  justice. 

The  cottagers  and  labourers  keep  their  children  at  home,  their  business 
being  only  to  till  and  cultivate  the  earth,  and  therefore  their  education 
is  of  little  consequence  to  the  public  : but  the  old  and  diseased  among 
them  are  supported  by  hospitals  : for  begging  is  a trade  unknown  in 
this  kingdom. 

And  here  it  may  perhaps  divert  the  curious  reader,  to  give  some 
account  of  my  domestic,  and  my  manner  of  living  in  this  country, 
during  a residence  ot  nine  months  and  thirteen  days.  Having  ahead 
mechanically  turned,  and  being  likewise  forced  by  necessity,  I had 
made  for  myself  a table  and  chair  convenient  enough,  out  of  the  largest 
trees  in  the  royal  park.  Two  hundred  sempstresses  were  employed  to 
make  me  shirts,  and  linen  for  my  bed  and  table,  all  of  the  strongest 
and  coarsest  kind  they  could  get  ; which,  however,  they  were  forced 
to  quilt  together  in  several  folds,  for  the  thickest  was  some  degrees  finer 
than  lawn.  Their  linen  is  usually  three  inches  wide,  and  thiee  toot 
make  a piece.  The  sempstresses  took  my  measure  as  I lay  on  the 
ground,  one  standing  at  my  neck,  and  another  at  my  mid  leg,  with  a 
strong  cord  extended,  that  each  held  by  the  end,  while  the  third  measured 
the  length  of  the  cord  with  a rule  of  an  inch  long.  Then  they  measured 


34 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


my  right  thumb,  and  desired  no  more  ; for  by  a mathematical  computa- 
tion, that  twice  round  the  thumb  is  once  round  the  wrist,  and  so  on  to 
the  neck  and  the  waist,  and  by  the  help  of  my  old  shirt,  which  I displayed 
on  the  ground  before  them  for  a pattern,  they  fitted  me  exactly.  Three 
hundred  tailors  were  employed  in  the  same  manner  to  make  me  clothes ; 
but  they  had  another  contrivance  for  taking  my  measure.  I kneeled 
down,  and  they  raised  a ladder  from  the  ground  to  my  neck ; upon 
this  ladder  one  of  them  mounted,  and  let  fall  a plum-line  from  my  collar 
to  the  floor,  which  just  answered  the  length  of  my  coat  ; but  my  waist 
and  arms  I measured  myself.  When  my  clothes  were  finished,  which 
was  done  in  my  house  (for  the  largest  of  theirs  would  not  be  able  to 
hold  them)  they  looked  like  the  patchwork  made  by  the  ladies  in  Eng- 
and,  only  that  mine  were  all  of  a colour. 

I had  three  hundred  cooks  to  dress  my  victuals,  in  little  convenient 
ts  built  about  my  house,  where  they  and  their  families  lived,  and 
Dared  me  two  dishes  a-piece.  I took  up  twenty  waiters  in  my  hand, 
placed  them  on  the  table  ; an  hundred  more  attended  below  on 
“ound,  some  with  dishes  of  meat,  and  some  with  barrels  of  wine, 
other  liquors,  flung  on  their  shoulders,  all  which  the  waiters  above 
drew  up  as  I wanted,  in  a very  ingenious  manner,  by  certain  cords,  as 
we  draw  the  bucket  up  a well  in  Europe.  A dish  of  their  meat  was  a 
good  mouthful,  and  a barrel  of  their  liquor  a reasonable  draught. 
Their  mutton  yields  to  ours,  but  their  beef  is  excellent.  I have  had  a 
sirloin  so  large  that  I have  been  forced  to  make  three  bits  of  it,  but 
this  is  rare.  My  servants  were  astonished  to  see  me  eat  it  bones  and 
all,  as  in  our  country  we  do  the  leg  of  a lark.  Their  geese  and  turkeys 
I usually  eat  at  a mouthful,  and  I must  confess  they  far  exceed  ours. 
Of  their  smaller  fowl  I could  take  up  twenty  or  thirty  at  the  end  of  my 
knife. 


One  day  his  Imperial  Majesty,  being  informed  of  my  way  of  living, 
desired  that  himself  and  his  royal  consort,  with  the  young  princes  of 
the  blood  of  both  sexes,  might  have  the  happiness  (as  he  was  pleased 
to  call  it)  of  dining  with  me.  They  came  accordingly,  and  I placed 
them  upon  chairs  of  state  on  my  table,  just  over  against  me,  with  their 
guards  about  them.  Flimnap,  the  lord  high  treasurer,  attended  there 
likewise,  with  his  white  staff ; and  I observed  he  often  looked  on  me 
with  a sour  countenance,  which  I would  not  seem  to  regard,  but  eat 
more  than  usual,  in  honour  to  my  dear  country,  as  well  as  to  fill  the 
court  with  admiration.  I have  some  private  reasons  to  believe  that 
this  visit  from  his  Majesty  gave  Flimnap  an  opportunity  of  doing  me 
ill  offices  to  his  master.  That  minister  had  always  been  my  secret 
enemy,  though  he  outwardly  caressed  me  more  than  was  usual  to  the 
moroseness  of  his  nature.  He  represented  to  the  Emperor  the  low 
condition  of  his  treasury  ; that  he  was  forced  to  take  up  money  at 
great  discount ; that  exchequer  bills  would  not  circulate  under  nine 
per  cent,  below  par  ; that  in  short  I had  cost  his  Majesty  above  a 
million  and  a half  of  sprugs  (their  greatest  gold  coin,  about  the 
bigr.ess  of  a spangle) ; and  upon  the  //hole,  that  it  would  be  advisable 
in  the  Emperor  to  take  the  first  fair  occasion  of  dismissing  me. 

I am  here  obliged  .0  vindicate  the  reputation  of  an  excellent  lady, 
who  was  an  innocent  sufferer  upon  my  account.  The  treasurer  took  a 


A VO  YA  GE  TO  LILLI  PUT. 


35 


fancy  to  be  jealous  of  his  wife,  from  the  malice  of  some  evil  tongues, 
who  informed  him  that  her  Grace  had  taken  a violent  affection  for  my 
person,  and  the  court-scandal  ran  for  some  time  that  she  once  came 
privately  to  my  lodging.  This  I solemnly  declare  to  be  a most  infa- 
mous falsehood,  without  any  grounds,  farther  than  that  her  Grace  was 
pleased  to  treat  me  with  all  innocent  marks  of  freedom  and  friendship. 
I own  she  came  often  to  my  house,  but  always  publicly,  nor  ever  with- 
out three  more  in  the  coach,  who  were  usually  her  sister  and  young 
daughter,  and  some  particular  acquaintance  ; but  this  was  common  to 
many  other  ladies  of  the  court.  And  I still  appeal  to  my  servants 
round,  whether  they  at  any  time  saw  a coach  at  my  door  without 
knowing  what  persons  were  in  it.  On  those  occasions,  when  a servant 
had  given  me  notice,  my  custom  was  to  go  immediately  to  the  door, 
and,  after  paying  my  respects,  to  take  up  the  coach  and  two  horses 
very  carefully  in  my  hands  (for  if  there  were  six  horses  the  postillion 
always  unharnessed  four),  and  place  them  on  a table,  where  I had 
fixed  a moveable  rim  quite  round,  of  five  inches  high,  to  prevent  ac- 
cidents. And  I have  often  had  four  coaches  and  horses  at  once  on  my 
table  full  of  company,  while  I sat  in  my  chair,  leaning  my  face  towards 
them  ; and  when  I was  engaged  with  one  set,  the  coachmen  would 
gently  drive  the  others  round  my  table.  I have  passed  many  an  after- 
noon very  agreeably  in  these  conversations.  But  I defy  the  treasurer, 
or  his  two  informers  (I  will  name  them,  and  let  ’em  make  their  best 
of  it),  Clustril  and  Drunlo,  to  prove  that  any  person  ever  came  to  me 
incognito,  except  the  secretary,  Reldresal,  who -was  sent  by  express 
command  of  his  imperial  Majesty,  as  I have  before  related.  I should 
not  have  dwelt  so  long  upon  this  particular,  if  it  had  not  been  a point 
wherein  the  reputation  of  a great  lady  is  so  nearly  concerned,  to  say 
nothing  of  my  own,  though  I had  then  the  honour  to  be  a Nardac, 
which  the  treasurer  himself  is  not,  for  all  the  world  knows  he  is  only  a 
Glumglum,  a title  inferior  by  one  degree,  as  that  of  a marquis  is  to  a 
duke  in  England,  although  I allow  he  preceded  me  in  right  of  his  post. 
These  false  informations,  which  I afterwards  came  to  the  knowledge  of 
by  an  accident  not  proper  to  mention,  made  Flimnap,  the  treasurer, 
show  his  lady  for  some  time  an  ill  countenance,  and  me  a worse ; 
and  although  he  were  at  last  undeceived  and  reconciled  to  her,  yet  I 
lost  all  credit  with  him,  and  found  my  interest  decline  very  fast  with 
the  Emperor  himself,  who  was  indeed  too  much  governed  by  that 
favourite. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

The  author  being  informed  of  a design  to  accuse  him  of  high  treason,  makes  his 
escape  to  Blefuscu.  His  reception  there. 

BEFORE  I proceed  to  give  an  account  of  my  leaving  this  kingdom, 
it  may  be  proper  to  inform  the  reader  of  a private  intrigue  which 
had  been  for  two  months  forming  against  me. 

I had  been  hitherto  all  my  life  a stranger  to  courts,  for  which  I was 
unqualified  by  the  meanness  of  my  condition.  I had  indeed  heard  and 
read  enough  of  the  dispositions  of  great  princes  and  ministers,  but  never 
expected  to  have  found  such  terrible  effects  of  them  in  so  remote  a 

3—2 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


3* 

country,  governed,  as  I thought,  by  very  different  maxims  from  those 


have  prepared  articles  of  impeachment  against  you,  lor  treason,  and 
other  capital  crimes. 

This  preface  made  me  so  impatient,  being  conscious  of  my  own 
merits  and  innocence,  that  I was  going  to  interrupt;  when  he  entreated 
me  to  be  silent,  and  thus  proceeded. 

Out  of  gratitude  for  the  favours  you  have  done  me,  I procured  infor- 
mation of  the  whole  proceedings,  and  a copy  of  the  articles,  wherein  I 
venture  my  head  for  your  service. 


Articles  of  impeachment  against  Quinbus  Flestrin  {the  Man-mountain ). 

Art.  I. — Whereas,  by  a statute  made  in  the  reign  of  his  Imperial 
Majesty  Calin  Deffar  Plune,  it  is  enacted,  that  whoever  shall  make 
water  within  the  precincts  of  the  Royal  Palace  shall  be  liable  to  the 
pains  and  penalties  of  high  treason  : notwithstanding,  the  said  Quinbus 
Flestrin,  in  open  breach  of  the  said  law,  under  colour  of  extinguishing 
the  fire  kindled  in  the  apartment  of  his  Majesty’s  dear  Imperial  Consort, 
did  maliciously,  traitorously,  and  devilishly,  by  discharge  of  his  urine, 
put  out  the  said  fire  kindled  in  the  said  apartment,  lying  and  being 
within  the  precincts  of  the  said  Royal  Palace,  against  the  statute  in 
that  case  provided,  &c.,  against  the  duty,  &c. 

Art.  II. — That  the  said  Quinbus  Flestrin  having  brought  the 
imperial  fleet  of  Blefuscu  into  the  royal  port,  and  being  afterwards 
commanded  by  his  Imperial  Majesty  to  seize  all  the  other  ships  of  the 
said  Empire  of  Blefuscu,  and  reduce  that  empire  to  a province,  to  be 
governed  by  a viceroy  from  hence,  and  to  destroy  and  put  to  death 


/ VOYAGE  TO  LTLLIPUT. 


37 


not  only*  all  the  Big-Endian  exiles,  but  likewise  all  the  people  of  that 
empire,  who  would  not  immediately  forsake  the  Big-Endian  heresy  : 
he,  the  said  Flestrin,  like  a false  traitor  against  his  most  Auspicious, 
Serene,  Imperial  Majesty,  did  petition  to  be  excused  from  the  said 
service  upon  pretence  of  unwillingness  to  force  the  consciences,  or 
destroy  the  liberties  and  lives,  of  an  innocent  people. 

ART.  III. — That,  whereas  certain  ambassadors  arrived  from  the 
court  of  Blefuscu,  to  sue  for  peace  in  his  Majesty’s  court  : he,  the  said 
Flestrin  did,  like  a false  traitor,  aid,  abet,  comfort,  and  divert  the  said 
ambassadors,  although  he  knew  them  to  be  servants  to  a prince  who 
was  lately  an  open  enemy  to  his  Imperial  Majesty,  and  in  open  war 
against  his  said  Majesty. 

Art.  IV.  —That  the  said  Ouinbus  Flestrin,  contrary  to  the  duty  of  a 
faithful  subject,  is  now  preparing  to  make  a voyage  to  the  court  and 
Empire  of  Blefuscu,  for  which  he  hath  received  only  verbal  licence 
from  his  Imperial  Majesty  ; and  under  colour  of  the  said  licence  doth 
falsely  and  traitorously  intend  to  take  the  said  voyage,  and  thereby  to 
aid,  comfort,  and  abet  the  Emperor  of  Blefuscu,  so  late  an  enemy,  and 
in  open  war  with  his  Imperial  Majesty  aforesaid. 

There  are  some  other  articles,  but  these  are  the  most  important,  of 
which  I have  read  you  an  abstract. 

In  the  several  debates  upon  this  impeachment,  it  must  be  confessed 
that  his  Majesty  gave  many  marks  of  his  great  lenity,  often  urging  the 
services  you  had  done  him,  and  endeavouring  to  extenuate  your  crimes. 
The  treasurer  and  admiral  insisted  that  you  should  be  put  to  the  most 
painful  and  ignominious  death,  by  setting  fire  on  your  house  at  night, 
and  the  general  was  to  attend  with  twenty  thousand  men  armed  with 
poisoned  arrows  to  shoot  you  on  the  face  and  hands.  Some  of  your 
servants  were  to  have  private  orders  to  strew  a poisonous  juice  on  your 
shirts,  which  would  soon  make  you  tear  your  own  flesh,  and  die  in  the 
utmost  torture.  The  general  came  into  the  same  opinion  ; so  that  for 
a long  time  there  was  a majority  against  you  : but  his  Majesty  resolving, 
if  possible,  to  spare  your  life,  at  last  brought  off  the  chamberlain. 

Upon  this  incident,  Reldresal,  principal  secretary  for  private  affairs, 
who  always  approved  himself  your  true  friend,  was  commanded  by  the 
Emperor  to  deliver  his  opinion,  which  he  accordingly  did  : and  therein 
justified  the  good  thoughts  you  have  of  him.  He  allowed  your  crimes 
to  be  great,  but  that  still  there  was  room  for  mercy,  the  most  com- 
mendable virtue  in  a prince,  and  for  which  his  Majesty  was  so  justly 
celebrated.  He  said,  the  friendship  between  you  and  him  w?as  so  well 
known  to  the  world,  that  perhaps  the  most  honourable  board  might 
think  him  partial  : however,  in  obedience  to  the  command  he  had  re- 
ceived, he  w-ould  freely  offer  his  sentiments.  That  if  his  Majesty,  in 
consideration  of  your  services,  and  pursuant  to  his  own  merciful  dis- 
position, would  please  to  spare  your  life,  and  only  give  order  to  put  out 
both  your  eyes,  he  humbly  conceived  that  by  this  expedient  justice 
might  in  some  measure  be  satisfied,  and  all  the  world  would  applaud 
the  lenity  of  the  emperor,  as  well  as  the  fair  and  generous  proceedings 
of  those  who  have  the  honour  to  be  his  counsellors.  That  the  loss  of 
your  eyes  would  be  no  impediment  to  your  bodily  strength,  by  which 
you  might  still  be  useful  to  his  Majesty.  That  blindness  is  an  addition 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


3* 

to  courage,  by  concealing  dangers  from  11s  : that  the  fear  you  had  for 
your  eyes,  was  the  greatest  difficulty  in  bringing  over  the  enemy’s  fleet, 
and  it  would  be  sufficient  for  you  to  see  by  the  eyes  of  the  ministers, 
since  the  greatest  princes  do  no  more. 

This  proposal  was  received  with  the  utmost  disapprobation  by  the 
whole  board.  Bolgolam,  the  admiral,  could  not  preserve  his  temper  ; 
but  rising  up  in  fury,  said,  he  wondered  how  the  secretary  durst  pre- 
sume to  give  his  opinion  for  preserving  the  life  of  a traitor  : that  the 
services  you  had  performed,  were,  by  all  true  reasons  of  state,  the 
great  aggravation  of  your  crimes;  that  you,  who  were  able  to  extinguish 
the  fire,  by  discharge  of  urine  in  her  Majesty’s  apartment  (which  he 
mentioned  with  horror)  might,  at  another  time,  raise  an  inundation  by 
the  same  means,  to  drown  the  whole  Palace  ; and  the  same*  strength 
which  enabled  you  to  bring  over  the  enemy’s  fleet  might  serve,  upon 
the  first  discontent,  to  carry  it  back:  that  he  had  good  reasons  to 
think  you  were  a Big-Endian  in  your  heart ; and  as  treason  begins 
in  the  heart  before  it  appears  in  overt  acts,  so  he  accused  you  as  a 
traitor  on  that  account,  and  therefore  insisted  you  should  be  put  to 
death. 

The  treasurer  was  of  the  same  opinion  ; he  showed  to  what  straits 
his  Majesty’s  revenue  was  reduced  by  the  charge  of  maintaining  you,  . 
which  would  soon  grow  insupportable  : that  the  secretary’s  expedient  of 
putting  out  your  eyes  was  so  far  from  being  a remedy  against  this  evil, 
it  would  probably  increase  it,  as  it  is  manifest  from  the  common  practice 
of  blinding  some  kind  of  fowl,  after  which  they  fed  the  faster,  and  grew  • 
sooner  fat  : that  his  sacred  Majesty,  and  the  council,  who  are  your 
judges,  were  in  their  own  consciences  fully  convinced  of  your  guilt, 
which  was  a sufficient  argument  to  condemn  you  to  death,  without  the  ? 
formal  proofs  required  by  the  strict  letter  of  the  law. 

But  his  Imperial  Majesty  fully  determined  against  capital  punish- 
ment, was  graciously  pleased  to  say,  that  since  the  council  thought  the 
loss  of  your  eyes  too  easy  a censure,  some  other  may  be  inflicted  here- 
after. And  your  friend  the  secretary  humbly  desiring  to  be  heard  again, 
in  answer  to  what  the  treasurer  had  objected  concerning  the  great 
charge  his  Majesty  was  at  in  maintaining  you,  said,  that  his  excellency, 
who  had  the  sole  disposal  of  the  Emperor’s  revenue,  might  easily  pro-  j 
vide  against  that  evil,  by  gradually  lessening  your  establishment;  by<| 
which,  for  want  of  sufficient  food,  you  would  grow  weak  and  faint,  and , 
lose  your  appetite,  and  consequently  decay  and  consume  in  a few 
months  ; neither  would  the  stench  of  your  carcass  be  then  so  dangerous,; 
when  it  should  become  more  than  half  diminished  ; and  immediately  1 
upon  your  death,  five  or  six  thousand  of  his  majesty’s  subjects  might, 
in  two  or  three  days,  cut  your  flesh  from  your  bones,  take  it  away  by 
cartloads,  and  bury  it  in  distant  parts  to  prevent  infection,  leaving  the 
skeleton  as  a monument  of  admiration  to  posterity. 

Thus  by  the  great  friendship  of  the  secretary,  the  whole  affair  was 
compromised.  It  was  strictly  enjoined,  that  the  project  of  starving 
you  by  degrees  should  be  kept  a secret,  but  the  sentence  of  putting 
out  your  eyes  was  entered  on  the  books  ; none  dissenting  except 
Bolgolam  the  Admiral,  who  being  a creature  of  the  Empress,  was  per- 
petually instigated  by  her  Majesty  to  insist  upon  your  death,  she  having 


A VOYAGE  TO  LILLI  PUT. 


39 

borne  perpetual  malice  against  you,  on  account  of  that  infamous  and 
illegal  method  you  took  to  extinguish  the  fire  in  her  apartment. 

In  three  days  your  friend  the  secretary  will  be  directed  to  come  to 
your  house,  and  read  before  you  the  articles  of  impeachment  : and 
then  to  signify  the  great  lenity  and  favour  of  his  Majesty  and  council, 
whereby  you  are  only  condemned  to  the  loss  of  your  eyes,  which  his 
Majesty  doth  not  question  you  will  gratefully  and  humbly  submit  to  ; 
and  twenty  of  his  Majesty’s  surgeons  will  attend,  in  order  to  see  the 
operation  well  performed,  by  discharging  very  sharp -pointed  arro  vs 
into  the  balls  of  your  eyes  as  you  lie  on  the  ground. 

I leave  to  your  prudence  what  measures  you  will  take  ; and  to  avoid 
suspicion,  I must  immediately  return  in  as  private  a manner  as  I came. 

His  lordship  did  so,  and  I remained  alone,  under  many  doubts  and 
perplexities  of  mind. 

It  was  a custom  introduced  by  this  prince  and  his  ministry  (very  dif- 
ferent, as  I have  been  assured,  from  the  practices  of  former  times),  that 
after  the  court  had  decreed  any  cruel  execution,  either  to  gratify  the 
monarch’s  resentment,  or  the  malice  of  a favourite,  the  Emperor  made 
a speech  to  his  whole  council,  expressing  his  great  lenity  and  tenderness, 
as  qualities  known  and  confessed  by  all  the  world.  This  speech  was  im- 
mediatelypublished  through  the  kingdom;  nor  did  anything  terrify  the 
people  so  much  as  those  encomiums  on  his  Majesty’s  mercy  ; because 
it  was  observed,  that  the  more  these  praises  were  enlarged  and  insisted 
on,  the  more  inhuman  was  the  punishment,  and  the  sufferer  more  inno- 
cent. And  as  to  myself,  I must  confess,  having  never  been  designed 
for  a courtier  either  by  my  birth  or  education,  I was  so  ill  a.  judge  of 
things,  that  I could  not  discover  the  lenity  and  favour  of  this  sentence, 
but  conceived  it  (perhaps  erroneously)  rather  to  be  rigorous  than  gentle. 

I sometimes  thought  of  standing  my  trial,  for  although  I could  not  deny 
the  facts  alleged  in  the  several  articles,  yet  I hoped  they  would  admit 
of  some  extenuations.  But  having  in  my  life  perused  many  state  trials, 
which  I ever  observed  to  terminate  as  the  judges  thought  fit  to  direct, 
I durst  not  rely  on  so  dangerous  a decision,  in  so  critical  a juncture, 
and  against  such  powerful  enemies.  Once  I was  strongly  bent  upon 
resistance,  for  while  I had  liberty,  the  whole  strength  of  that  empire 
could  hardly  subdue  me,  and  I might  easily  with  stones  pelt  the  metro- 
polis to  pieces  ; but  I soon  rejected  that  project  with  horror,  by  re- 
membering the  oath  I had  made  to  the  Emperor,  the  favours  I received 
from  him,  and  the  high  title  of  Nardac  he  conferred  upon  me.  Neither 
had  I so  soon  learned  the  gratitude  of  courtiers,  to  persuade  myself 
that  his  Majesty’s  present  severities  acquitted  me  of  all  past  obligations. 

At  last  I fixed  upon  a resolution,  for  which  it  is  probable  I may  incur 
some  censure,  and  not  unjustly  ; for  I confess  I owe  the  preserving  nftne 
eyes,  and  consequently  my  liberty,  to  my  own  great  rashness  and  want 
of  experience  : because  if  I had  then  known  the  nature  of  princes  and 
ministers,  which  I have  since  observed  in  many  other  courts,  and  their 
methods  of  treating  criminals  less  obnoxious  than  myself,  I should  with 
great  alacrity  and  readiness  have  submitted  to  so  easy  a punishment. 
But  hurried  on  by  the  precipitancy  of  youth,  and  having  his  Imperial 
Majesty’s  licence  to  pay  my  attendance  upon  the  Emperor  of  Blefuscu, 
I took  this  opportunity  before  the  three  days  elapsed,  to  send  a letter  to 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


4* 

xny  friend  the  secretary,  signifying  my  resolution  of  setting  out  that 
morning  for  Blefuscu,  pursuant  to  the  leave  I had  got  ; and  without 
waiting  for  an  answer,  I went  to  that  side  of  the  island  where  our  fleet 
lay.  I seized  a lafrge  man  of  war,  tied  a cable  to  the  prow,  and  lifting 
up  the  anchors,  I stript  myself,  put  my  clothes  (together  with  my  cover- 
let, which  I brought  under  my  arm)  into  the  vessel,  and  drawing  it  after 
me  between  wading  and  swimming,  arrived  at  the  royal  port  of  Blefuscu, 
where  the  people  had  long  expected  me ; they  lent  me  two  guides  to  direct 
me  to  the  capital  city,  which  is  of  the  same  name.  I held  them  in  my 
hands  till  I came  within  two  hundred  yards  of  the  gate,  and  desired 
them  to  signify  my  arrival  to  one  of  the  secretaries,  and  let  him  know 
1 there  waited  his  Majesty's  command.  I had  an  answer  in  about  an 
hour,  that  his  Majesty,  attended  by  the  royal  family  and  great  officers 
of  the  court,  was  coming  out  to  receive  me.  I advanced  a hundred 
yards.  The  Emperor  and  his  train  alighted  from  their  horses,  the 
Empress  and  ladies  from  their  coaches,  and  1 did  not  perceive  they 
were  in  any  fright  or  concern.  I lay  on  the  ground  to  kiss  his  Majesty's 
and  the  Empress's  hands.  I told  his  Majesty  that  I was  come  accord- 
ing to  my  promise,  and  with  the  licence  of  the  Emperor,  my  master,  to 
have  the  honour  of  seeing  so  mighty  a monarch,  and  to  offer  him  any 
service  in  my  power,  consistent  with  my  duty  to  my  own  prince  ; not 
mentioning  a word  of  my  disgrace,  because  I had  hitherto  no  regular 
information  of  it,  and  might  suppose  myself  wholly  ignorant  of  any 
such  design  ; neither  could  I reasonably  conceive  that  the  Emperor 
would  discover  the  secret  while  I was  out  of  his  power,  wherein,  how- 
ever, it  soon  appeared  I was  deceived. 

I shall  not  trouble  the  reader  with  the  particular  account  of  my 
reception  at  this  court,  which  was  suitable  to  the  generosity  of  so  great 
a prince  ; nor  of  the  difficulties  I was  in  for  want  of  a house  and  bed, 
being  forced  to  lie  on  the  ground  wrapt  up  in  my  coverlet. 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

The  author,  by  a lucky  accident,  finds  means  to  leave  Blefuscu  5 and,  after 
some  difficulties,  returns  safe  to  his  native  country. 

THREE  days  after  my  arrival,  walking  out  of  curiosity  to  the  north- 
east coast  of  the  island,  I observed,  about  half  a league  off,  in  the 
sea,  somewhat  that  looked  like  a boat  overturned.  I pulled  off  my 
shoes  and  stockings,  and  wading  two  or  three  hundred  yards,  I found 
the  object  to  approach  nearer  by  force  of  the  tide  ; and  then  plainly 
saw  it  to  be  a real  boat,  which  I supposed  might,  by  some  tempest, 
have  been  driven  from  a ship  ; whereupon  I returned  immediately 
touprds  the  city  and  desired  his  Imperial  Majesty  to  lend  me  twenty 
of  the  tallest  vessels  he  had  left  after  the  loss  of  his  fleet,  and  three 
thousand  seamen  under  the  command  of  the  vice-admiral.  This  fleet 
sailed  round  while  I went  back  the  shortest  way  to  the  coast  where  I 
first  discovered  the  boat  ; I found  the  tide  had  driven  it  still  nearer.  The 
seamen  were  all  provided  with  cordage,  which  I had  beforehand  twisted 
to  a sufficient  strength.  When  the  ships  came  up  I stript  myself  and 
waded  till  I came  within  an  hundred  yards  of  the  boat,  after  which  I 
was  forced  to  swim  till  I got  up  to  it  The  seamen  threw  me  the  end 


A VOYAGE  TO  LILLI  PUT.. 


4* 


of  the  cord,  which  I fastened  to  a hole  in  the  fore-part  of  the  boat,  and 
the  other  end  to  a man  of  war  But  I found  all  my  labour  to  little 
purpose,  for  being  out  of  my  depth,  i was  nor  able  to  work.  In  this 
necessity  I was  forced  to  swim  behind,  and  push  the  boat  forwards  as 
often  as  I could;  with  one  of  my  hands  ; and  the  tide  favouring  me,  I 
advanced  so  far  that  I could  just  hold  up  mv  chin  and  feel  the  ’ground. 
I rested  two  or  three  minutes  and  then  gave  the  boat  another  shove, 
and  so  on  till  the  sea  was  no  higher  than  my  arm-pits  ; and  now,  the 
most  laborious  part  being  over,  1 took  out  my  other  cables,  which  were 
stowed  in  one  of  the  ships,  and  fastening  them  first  to  the  boat  and 
then  to  nine  of  the  vessels  which  attended  me,  the  wind  being  favour- 
able the  seamen  towed,  and  I shoved  till  we  arrived  within  forty  yards 
of  the  shore,  and  waiting  till  the  tide  was  out  I got  dry  to  the  boat, 
and  by  the  assistance  of  two  thousand  men,  with  ropes  and  engines, 
I made  a shift  to  turn  it  on  its  bottom,  and  found  it  was  but  little 
damaged. 

I shall  not  trouble  the  reader  with  the  difficulties  I was  under  by  the 
help  of  certain  paddles,  which  cost  me  ten  days  making,  to  get  my  boat 
to  the  royal  port  of  Blefuscu,  where  a mighty  concourse  of  people  ap- 
peared upon  my  arrival,  full  of  wonder  at  the  sight  of  so  prodigious  a 
vessel.  I told  the  Emperor  that  my  good  fortune  bad  thrown  this  boat 
in  my  way,  to  carry  me  to  some  place  from  whence  I might  return  into 
my  native  country,  and  begged  bis  majesty's  orders  for  getting  materials 
to  fit  it  up,  together  with  his  licence  to  depart ; which,  after  some  kind 
expostulations,  he  was  pleased  to  grant. 

I did  very  much  wonder,  in  all  this  time,  not  to  have  heard  of  any 
express  relating  to  me  from  our  Emperor  to  the  court  of  Blefuscu.  But 
I was  afterwards  given  privately  to  understand,  that  his  Imperial 
Majesty,  never  imagining  I had  the  least  notice  of  his  designs,  believed 
I was  only  gone  to  Blefuscu  in  performance  of  my  promise,  according 
to  the  licence  he  had  given  me,  which  was  well-known  at  our  court, 
and  would  return  in  a few  days  when  that  ceremony  was  ended.  But 
he  was  at  last  in  pain  at  my  long  absence  ; and,  after  consulting  with 
the  treasurer  and  the  rest  of  that  cabal,  a person  of  quality  was  des- 
patched with  the  copy  of  the  articles  against  me.  This  envoy  had 
instructions  to  represent  to  the  monarch  of  Blefuscu  the  great  lenity  of 
his  master,  who  was  content  to  punish  me  no  further  than  with  the  loss 
of  mine  eyes;  that  I had  fled  from  justice,  and  if  1 did  not  return  in  two 
hours  I should  be  deprived  of  my  title  of  Nardac,  and  declared  a 
traitor.  The  envoy  further  added,  that  in  order  to  maintain  the  peace 
and  amity  between  both  empires,  his  master  expected  that  his  brother 
of  Blefuscu  would  give  orders  to  have  me  sent  back  to  Lilliput  bound 
hand  and  foot,  to  be  punished  as  a traitor. 

The  Emperor  of  Blefuscu,  having  taken  three  days  to  consult,  re- 
turned an  2fnswer,  consisting  of  many  civilities  and  excuses.  He  said 
that  as  for  sending  me  bound,  his  brother  knew  it  was  impossible  ; that 
although  1 had  deprived  him  of  his  fleet,  yet  he  owed  great  obligations 
to  me  tor  many  good  offices  I had  done  him  in  making  the  peace. 
That,  however,  both  their  Majesties  would  soon  be  made  easy  ; for  1 
had  found  a prodigious  vessel  on  the  shore  able  to  carry  me  on  the  sea, 
which  he  had  given  order  to  fit  up  with  my  own  assistance  and  direc- 


4* 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


tion  ; and  he  hoped  in  a few  weeks  both  empires  would  be  freed  from 
so  insupportable  an  incumbrance. 

With  this  answer  the  envoy  returned  to  Lilliput,  and  the  monarch  of 
Blefuscu  related  to  me  all  that  had  past  ; offering  me  at  the  same  time 
(but  under  the  strictest  confidence)  his  gracious  protection  if  I would 
continue  in  his  service  ; wherein,  although  I believed  him  sincere,  yet 
I resolved  never  more  to  put  any  confidence  in  princes  or  ministers, 
where  I could  possibly  avoid  it ; and  therefore,  with  all  due  acknow- 
ledgments for  his  favourable  intentions,  I humbly  begged  to  be  excused. 

I told  him  that  since  fortune,  whether  good  or  evil,  had  thrown  a vessel 
in  my  way,  I was  resolved  to  venture  myself  in  the  ocean  rather  than 
be  an  occasion  of  difference  between  two  such  mighty  monarchs. 
Neither  did  1 find  the  Emperor  at  all  displeased  ; and  I discovered  by 
a certain  accident,  that  he  was  very  glad  of  my  resolution,  and  so  were 
most  of  his  ministers. 

These  considerations  moved  me  to  hasten  my  departure  somewhat 
sooner  than  I intended  ; to  which  the  court,  impatient  to  have  me  gone, 
very  readily  contributed.  Five  hundred  workmen  were  employed  to 
make  two  sails  to  my  boat,  according  to  my  directions,  by  quilting 
thirteen  fold  of  their  strongest  linen  together.  I was  at  the  pains  of 
making  ropes  and  cables,  by  twisting  ten,  twenty  or  thirty  of  the  thickest 
and  strongest  of  theirs.  A great  stone  that  I happened  to  find,  after  a 
long  search  by  the  sea-shore,  served  me  for  an  anchor.  I had  the 
tallow  of  three  hundred  cows  for  greasing  my  boat,  and  other  uses. 

I was  at  incredible  pains  in  cutting  down  some  of  the  largest  timber 
trees  for  oars  and  masts,  wherein  I was,  however,  much  assisted  by  his 
majesty’s  ship  carpenters,  who  helped  me  in  smoothing  them  after  I had 
done  the  rough  work. 

In  about  a month,  when  all  was  prepared,  I sent  to  receive  his 
Majesty’s  commands,  and  to  take  my  leave.  The  emperor  and  royal 
family  came  out  of  the  palace  ; I lay  down  on  my  face  to  kiss  his  hand 
which  he  very  graciously  gave  me  ; so  did  the  empress  and  young 
princes  of  the  blood.  His  majesty  presented  me  with  fifty  purses  of 
two  hundred  sprugs  a-piece,  together  with  his  picture  at  full  length, 
which  I put  immediately  into  one  of  my  gloves,  to  keep  it  from  being 
hurt.  The  ceremonies  at  my  departure  were  too  many  to  trouble  the 
reader  with  at  this  time. 

I stored  the  boat  with  the  carcases  of  an  hundred  oxen  and  three 
hundred  sheep,  with  bread  and  drink  proportionable,  and  as  much  meat 
ready  dressed  as  four  hundred  cooks  could  provide.  I took  with  me 
six  cows  and  two  bulls  alive,  with  as  many  ewes  and  rams,  intending  to 
carry  them  into  my  own 'country,  and  propagate  the  breed.  And  to 
feed  them  on  board  I had  a good  bundle  of  hay  and  a bag  of  corn.  I 
would  gladly  have  taken  a dozen  of  the  natives,  but  this  was  a thing  the 
Emperor  would  by  no  means  permit ; and  besides  a diligent^search  into  | 
my  pockets  his  Majesty  engaged  my  honour  not  to  carry  away  any  of 
his  subjects,  although  with  their  own  consent  and  desire. 

Having  thus  prepared  all  things  as  well  as  I was  able,  I set  sail  on 
the  24th  day  of  September,  1701,  at  six  in  the  morning ; and 
when  I had  gone  about  four  leagues  to  the  northward,  the  wind  being  at 
south-east,  at  six  in  the  evening  I descried  a small  island  about  half  a } 


V 


A VOYAGE  TO  LILLI  PUT. 


43 


league  to  the  north-west.  I advanced  forward  and  cast  anchor  on  the 
lee-side  of  the  island,  which  seemed  to  be  uninhabited.  I then  took 
some  refreshment  and  went  to  my  rest.  I slept  well,  and  I conjecture 
at  least  six  hours,  for  I found  the  day  broke  in  two  hours  after  I 
awaked.  It  was  a clear  night.  I eat  my  breakfast  before  the  sun  was 
up  ; and  heaving  anchor,  the  wind  being  favourable,  I steered  the  same 
course  that  I had  done  the  day  before,  wherein  1 was  directed  by  my 
pocket  compass.  My  intention  was  to  reach,  if  possible,  one  of  those 
islands,  which  I had  reason  to  believe  lay  to  the  north-east  of  Van 
Diemen’s  Land.  I discovered  nothing  all  that  day  ; but  upon  the  next, 
about  three  in  the  afternoon,  when  I had  by  my  computation  made 
twenty-four  leagues  from  Blefuscu,  I descried  a sail  steering  to  the 
south  east ; my  course  was  due  east.  I hailed  her  but  could  get  no 
answer  ; yet  I found  I gained  upon  her,  for  the  wind  slackened.  I made 
all  the  sail  I could,  and  in  half  an  hour  she  spied  me,  then  hung  out  her 
ancient,  and  discharged  a gun.  It  is  not  easy  to  express  the  joy  I was 
in  upon  the  unexpected  hope  of  once  more  seeing  my  beloved  country, 
and  the  dear  pledges  I left  in  it.  The  ship  slackened  her  sails  and  I 
came  up  with  her  between  five  and  six  in  the  evening,  September  26  ; 
but  my  heart  leapt  within  me  to  see  her  English  colours.  I put  my 
cows  and  sheep  into  my  coat  pockets,  and  got  on  board  with  all  my 
little  cargo  of  provisions.  The  vessel  was  an  English  merchantman 
returning  from  Japan  by  the  North  and  South  Seas  ; the  captain, 
Mr.  John  Biddel,  of  Deptford,  a very  civil  man  and  an  excellent 
sailor.  We  were  now  in  the  latitude  of  thirty  degrees  south  ; there 
were  about  fifty  men  in  the  ship  ; and  here  I met  an  old  comrade 
of  mine,  one  Peter  Williams,  who  gave  me  a good  character  to  the 
captain.  This  gentleman  treated  me  with  kindness,  and  desired  I 
would  let  him  know  what  place  I came  from  last,  and  whither  I was 
bound  ; which  I did  in  few  words,  but  he  thought  I was  raving,  and 
that  the  dangers  I underwent  had  disturbed  my  head  ; whereupon  I 
took  my  black  cattle  and  sheep  out  of  my  pocket,  which,  after  great 
astonishment,  clearly  convinced  him  of  my  veracity.  I then  showed 
him  the  gold  given  me  by  the  Emperor  of  Blefuscu,  together  with  his 
majesty’s  picture  at  full  length,  and  some  other  rarities  of  that  country. 
I gave  him  two  purses  of  two  hundred  “ sprugs  ” each,  and  promised, 
when  we  arrived  in  England,  to  make  him  a present  of  a*cow  and  a 
sheep  big  with  young. 

I shall  not  trouble  the  reader  with  a particular  account  of  this  voyage, 
which  was  very  prosperous  for  the  most  part.  We  arrived  in  the  Downs 
on  the  13th  of  April,  1702.  I had  only  one  misfortune,  that  the  rats  on 
board  carried  away  one  of  my  sheep  ; I found  her  bones  in  a hole, 
picked  clean  from  the  flesh.  The  rest  of  my  cattle  I got  safe  on  shore, 
and  set  them  a-grazing  in  a bowling-green  at  Greenwich,  where  the  fine- 
ness of  the  grass  made  them  feed  very  heartily,  though  I had  always  feared 
the  contrary:  neither  could  I possibly  have  preserved  them  in  so  long  a 
voyage,  if  the  captain  had  not  allowed  me  some  of  his  best  biscuit, 
which  rubbed  to  powder,  and  mingled  with  water,  was  their  constant 
food.  The  short  time  I continued  in  England,  I made  a considerable 
profit  by  showing  my  cattle  to  many  persons  of  quality,  and  others  ; 
and  before  I began  my  second  voyage  I sold  them  for  six  hundred 


44 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


pounds.  Since  my  last  return,  I find  the  breed  is  considerably  in- 
creased, especially  the  sheep  ; which  I hope  will  prove  much  to  the 
advantage  of  the  woollen  manufacture,  by  the  fineness  of  the  fleeces. 

I stayed  but  two  months  with  my  wife  and  family  ; for  my  insatiable 
desire  of  seeing  foreign  countries  would  suffer  me  to  continue  no  longer. 
I left  fifteen  hundred  pounds  with  my  wife,  and  fixed  her  in  a good  house 
at  Redriff.  My  remaining  stock  I carried  with  me,  part  in  money  and 
part  in  goods,  in  hopes  to  improve  my  fortunes.  My  eldest  uncle  John 
had  left  me  an  estate  in  land  near  Epping,  of  about  thirty  pounds  a 
year ; and  I had  along  lease  of  the  Black  Bull  in  Fetter-lane,  which 
yielded  me  as  much  more,  so  that  I was  not  in  any  danger  of  leaving 
my  family  upon  the  parish.  My  son  Johnny,  named  so  after  his  uncle, 
was  at  the  Grammar  School,  and  a towardly  child.  My  daughter  Betty 
(who  is  now  well  married,  and  has  children)  was  then  at  her  needle- 
work. I took  leave  of  my  wife,  and  boy,  and  girl,  with  tears  on  both 
sides,  and  went  on  board  the  Adventure,  a merchant  ship  of  three  hun- 
dred tons,  bound  for  Surat,  Captain  John  Nicholas,  of  Liverpool,  Com- 
mander, But  my  account  of  this  voyage  must  be  referred  to  the  Second 
Part  of  my  Travels. 


THE  END  Of  THE  FIRST  PARX. 


PART  II 


A VOYAGE  TO  BROBDINGNAG. 


CHAPTER  I. 

A great  storm  described,  the  long-boat  sent  to  fetch  water,  the  Author  goes  with 
it  to  discover  the  country.  He  is  left  on  shore,  is  seized  by  one  of  the  natives, 
and  carried  to  a farmer’s  house.  His  reception  there,  with  several  accidents 
that  happened  there.  A description  of  the  inhabitants. 

HAVING  been  condemned  by  nature  and  fortune  to  an  active  and 
restless  life,  in  ten  months  after  my  return,  I again  left  my  native 
country,  and  took  shipping  in  the  Downs  on  the  20th  day  of  June,  1702, 
in  the  Adventure,  Capt.  John  Nicholas,  a Cornish  man,  commander, 
bound  for  Surat.  We  had  a very  prosperous  gale  till  we  arrived  at  the 
Cape  of  Good-Hope,  where  we  landed  for  fresh  water,  but  discovering  a 
leak  we  unshipped  our  goods,  and  wintered  there  ; for  the  Captain  fall- 
ing sick  of  an  ague,  we  could  not  leave  the  Cape  till  the  end  of  March. 
We  then  set  sail,  and  had  a good  voyage  till  we  passed  the  Straits  of 
Madagascar  ; but  having  got  northward  of  that  island,  and  to  about  five 
degrees  south  latitude,  the  winds,  which  in  those  seas  are  observed  to 
blow  a constant  equal  gale  between  the  north  and  west,  from  the  begin- 
ning of  December  to  the  beginning  of  May,  on  the  19th  of  April  began 
to  blow  with  much  greater  violence,  and  more  westerly  than  usual,  con- 
tinuing so  for  twenty  days  together,  during  which  time  we  were  driven 
a little  to  the  east  of  the  Molucca  Islands,  and  about  three  degrees  north- 
ward of  the  line,  as  our  captain  found  by  an  observation  he  took  the 
2nd  of  May,  at  which  time  the  wind  ceased,  and  it  was  a perfect  calm, 
whereat  I was  not  a little  rejoiced.  But  he  being  a man  well  experienced 
in  the  navigation  of  those  seas,  bid  us  all  prepare  against  a storm,  which 
accordingly  happened  the  day  following  : for  a southern  wind,  called  the 
Southern,  Monsoon  began  to  set  in. 

Finding  it  was  like  to  overblow,  we  took  in  our  spritsail,  and  stood 
by  to  hand  the  foresail ; but  making  foul  weather,  we  looked  the  guns 


46 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


were  all  fast,  and  handed  the  mizen.  The  ship  lay  very  broad  off,  s« 
we  thought  it  better  spooning  before  the  sea,  than  trying  or  hulling. 
We  reefed  the  foresail  and  set  him,  we  hauled  aft  the  fore  sheet ; the 
helm  was  hard  a weather.  The  ship  wore  bravely.  We  belayed  the 
foredown-hall ; but  the  sail  was  split,  and  we  hauled  down  the  yard,  and 
got  the  sail  into  the  ship,  and  unbound  all  the  things  clear  of  it.  It 
was  a very  fierce  storm  ; the  sea  broke  strange  and  dangerous.  We 
hauled  off  upon  the  lanyard  of  the  whipstaff,  and  helped  the  man  at 
helm.  We  would  not  get  dcvwn  our  topmast,  but  let  all  stand,  because 
she  scudded  before  the  sea  vt  ry  well,  and  we  knew  that  the  topmast 
being  aloft,  the  ship  was  the  wholesomer,  and  made  better  way  through 
the  sea,  seeing  we  had  sea-room.  When  the  storm  was  over,  we  set 
foresail  and  mainsail,  and  brought  the  ship  to.  Then  we  set  the  mizen, 
maintop-sail  and  the  foretop-sail.  Our  course  was  east  north-east,  the 
wind  was  at  south-west.  We  got  the  starboard  tacks  aboard,  we  cast 
off  our  weather-braces  and  lifts  ; we  set  in  the  lee-braces,  and  hauled 
forward  by  the  weather-bowlings,  and  hauled  them  tight,  and  belayed 
them,  and  hauled  over  the  mizen  tack  to  windward,  and  kept  her  full  and 
by  as  near  as  she  could  lie. 

During  this  storm,  which  was  followed  by  a strong  wind  west  south 
west,  we  were  carried,  by  my  computation,  about  five  hundred  leagues 
to  the  east,  so  that  the  oldest  sailor  on  board  could  not  tell  in  what  part 
of  the  world  we  were.  Our  provisions  held  out  well,  our  ship  was 
staunch,  and  our  crew  all  in  good  health  ; but  we  lay  in  the  utmost  dis- 
tress for  water.  We  thought  it  best  to  hold  on  the  same  course,  rather 
than  turn  more  northerly,  which  might  have  brought  us  to  the  north 
west  parts  of  great  Tartary,  and  into  the  frozen  sea. 

On  the  1 6th  day  of  June,  1703,  a boy  on  the  topmast  discovered  land.  ' 
On  the  17th  we  came  in  full  view  of  a great  island  or  continent  (for  we 
knew  not  whether)  on  the  south  side  whereof  was  a small  neck  of  land 
jutting  out  into  the  sea,  and  a creek  too  shallow  to  hold  a ship  of  above 
one  hundred  tons.  We  cast  anchor  within  a league  of  this  creek,  and 
our  captain  sent  a dozen  of  his  men  well  armed  in  the  long  boat,  with 
vessels  for  water,  if  any  could  be  found.  I desired  his  leave  to  go  with 
them,  that  I might  see  the  country,  and  make  what  discoveries  1 could.  ’ 
When  we  came  to  land  we  saw  no  river  or  spring,  nor  any  sign  of  in- 
habitants. Our  men  therefore  wandered  on  the  shore  to  find  out  some  5 
fresh  water  near  the  sea,  and  I walked  alone  about  a mile  on  the  other 
side,  where  I observed  the  country  all  barren  and  rocky.  I now  began 
to  be  weary,  and  seeing  nothing  to  entertain  my  curiosity,  I returned 
gently  down  towards  the  creek  ; and  the  sea  being  full  in  my  view.  I 
saw  our  men  already  got  into  the  boat,  and  rowing  for  life  to  the  ship. 

I was  going  to  holloa  after  them,  although  it  had  been  to  little  purpose, 
when  I observed  a huge  creature  walking  after  them  in  the  sea,  as  fast 
as  he  could  : he  waded  not  much  deeper  than  his  knees,  and'Took  pro- 
digious strides  : But  our  men  had  the  start  of  him  half  a league,  and 

the  sea  thereabouts  being  full  of  sharp-pointed  rocks,  the  monster  was 
not  able  to  overtake  the  boat.  This  I was  afterwards  told,  for  I durst 
not  stay  to  see  the  issue  of  that  adventure  ; but  ran  as  fast  as  I could 
the  way  I first  went  ; and  then  climbed  up  a steep  hill,  which  gave  me  !> 
some  prospect  of  the  country.  I found  it  fully  cultivated  ; but  that  | 


The  Library 

ol  the 

University  ol  Illinois 


A VOYAGE  TO  BROB DING  NAG. 


47 


which  first  surprised  me  was  the  length  of  the  grass,  which  in  those 
grounds  that  seemed  to  be  kept  for  hay,  was  above  twenty  foot  high. 

I fell  into  a high  road,  for  so  I took  it  to  be,  though  it  served  to  the 
inhabitants  only  as  a foot-path  through  a field  of  barley.  Here  I walked 
on  for  some  time,  but  could  see  little  on  either  side,  it  being  now  neat 
harvest,  and  the  corn  rising  at  least  forty  foot.  I was  an  hour  walking 
to  the  end  of  this  field,  which  was  fenced  in  with  a hedge  of  at  least  one 
hundred  and  twenty  foot  high,  and  the  trees  so  lofty  that  I could  make 
no  computation  of  their  altitude.  There  was  a stile  to  pass  from  this 
field  into  the  next.  It  had  four  steps,  and  a stone  to  cross  over  when 
you  came  to  the  uppermost.  It  was  impossible  for  me  to  climb  this 
stile,  because  every  step  was  six  foot  high,  and  the  upper  stone  above 
twenty.  I was  endeavouring  to  find  some  gap  in  the  hedge,  when  I dis- 
covered one  of  the  inhabitants  in  the  next  field,  advancing  towards  the 
stile,  of  the  same  size  with  him  whom  I saw  in  the  sea,  pursuing  our 
boat.  He  appeared  as  tall  as  an  ordinary  spire-steeple,  and  took  about 
ten  yards  at  every  stride,  as  n ear could  gu ess.  I was  struck  with 
the  utmost  fear  and  astonishment,  and  ran  to  hide  myself  in'  the  corn, 
from  whence  I saw  him  at  the  top  of  the  stile,  looking  back  into  the 
next  field  on  the  right  hand,  and  heard  him  call  in  a voice  many  degrees 
louder  than  a speaking  trumpet.;  but  the  noise  was  so  high  in  the  air, 
that  at  first  I certainly  thought  it  was  thunder.  Whereupon  seven  mon- 
sters like  himself  came  towards  him  with  reaping-hooks  in  their  hands, 
each  hook  about  the  largeness  of  six  scythes.  These  people  were  not 
so  well  clad  as  the  first,  whose  servants  or  labourers  they  seemed  to  be  : 
foruponsomewordshespoke,  they  went  to  reapthecorn  in  the  field  where 
I lay.  I kept  from  them  at  as  great  a distance  as  I could,  but  was 
forced  to  move  with  extreme  difficulty,  for  the  stalks  of  the  corn  were 
sometimes  not  above  a foot  distant,  so  that  I could  hardly  squeeze  my 
body  betwixt  them.  I made  a shift  to  go  forward  till  I came  to  a part 
of  the  field  where  the  corn  had  been  laid  by  the  rain  and  wind.  Here 
it  was  impossible  for  me  to  advance  a step  ; for  the  stalks  were  so  in- 
terwoven that  I could  not  creep  through,  and  the  beards  of  the  fallen 
ears  so  strong  and  pointed  that  they  pierced  through  my  clothes  into 
my  flesh.  At  the  same  time  I heard  the  reapers  not  above  a hundred 
yards  behind  me.  Being  quite  dispirited  with  toil,  and  wholly  over- 
come by  grief  and  despair,  I lay  down  between  two  ridges,  and  heartily 
wished  I might  there  end  my  days.  I bemoaned  my  desolate  widow 
and  fatherless  children.  I lamented  my  own  folly  and  wilfulness  in  at- 
tempting a second  voyage  against  the  advice  of  all  my  friends  and  re- 
lations. In  this  terrible  agitation  of  mind  I could  not  forbear  thinking 
of  Lilliput,  whose  inhabitants  looked  upon  me  as  the  greatest  prodigy 
that  ever  appeared  in  the  world  : where  I was  able  to  draw  an  imperial 
fleet  in  my  hand,  and  perform  those  other  actions  which  will  be  recorded 
for  ever  in  the  chronicles  of  that  empire,  while  posterity  shall  hardly 
believe  them,  although  attested  by  millions.  I reflected  what  a morti- 
fication it  must  prove  to  me  to  appear  as  inconsiderable  in  this  nation 
as  one  single  Lilliputian  would  be  among  us.  But  this  I conceived  was 
to  be  the  least  of  my  misfortunes  : for,  as  human  creatures  are  observed  , 
to  be  more  savage  and  cruel  in  proportion  to  their  bulk,  what  could  I 
expect  but  to  be  a morsel  in  the  mouth  of  the  first  among  these  enormous 


4$ 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


barbarians  that  should  happen  to  seize  me?  Undoubtedly  philosophers 
are  in  the  right  when  they  tell  us,  that  nothing  is  great  or  little  other- 
wise than  by  comparison.  It  might  have  pleased  fortune  to  let  the 
Lilliputians  find  some  nation,  where  the  people  were  as  diminutive  with 
respect  to  them,  as  they  were  to  me.  And  who  knows  but  that  even 
this  prodigious  race  of  mortals  might  be  equally  overmatched  in  some 
distant  part  of  the  world,  whereot  we  have  yet  no  discovery  ? 

Scared  and  confounded  as  I was,  I could  not  forbear  going  on  with 
these  reflections,  when  one  ot  the  reapers  approaching  within  ten  yards 
of  the  ridge  where  I lay,  made  me  apprehend  that  with  the  next  step  I 
should  be  squashed  to  Death  under  his  toot,  or  cut  in  two  with  his  reap- 
ing-hook. And  therefore  when  he  was  again  about  to  move,  I screamed 
as  loud  as  fear  could  make  me.  Whereupon  the  huge  creature  trod 
short,  and  looking  round  about  under  him  for  some  time,  at  last  espied 
me  as  I lay  on  the  ground.  He  considered  a while  with  the  caution  of 
one  who  endeavours  to  lay  hold  on  a small  dangerous  animal  in  such  a 
manner  that  it  may  not  be  able  either  to  scratch  or  to  bite  him,  as  I 
myself  have  sometimes  done  with  a weasel  in  England.  At  length  he 
ventured  to  take  me  up  behind  by  the  middle  between  his  tore  finger 
and  thumb,  and  brought  me  within  three  yards  of  his  eyes,  that  he  might 
behold  my  shape  more  perfectly.  I guessed  his  meaning,  and  my  good 
fortune  gave  me  so  much  presence  of  mind,  that  I resolved  not  to  struggle 
in  the  least  as  he  held  me  in  the  air,  about  sixty  foot  from  the  ground, 
although  he  grievously  pinched  my  sides,  for  tear  I should  slip  through 
his  fingers.  All  I ventured  was  to  raise  mine  eyes  towards  the  sun,  and 
place  my  hands  together  in  a supplicating  posture,  and  to  speak  some 
words  in  an  humble  melancholy  tone,  suitable  to  the  condition  I then 
was  in.  For  I apprehended  every  moment  that  he  would  dash  me 
against  the  ground,  as  we  usually  do  any  little  hateful  animal  which  we 
have  a mind  to  destroy.  But  my  good  star  would  have  it,  that  he  ap- 
peared pleased  with'  my  voice  and  gestures,  and  began  to  look  upon  me 
as  a curiosity,  much  wondering  to  hear  me  pronounce  articulate  words, 
although  he  could  not  understand  them.  In  the  meantime  I was  not 
’ able  to  forebear  groaning  and  shedding  tears,  and  turning  my  head  to- 
wards my  sides  ; letting  him  know,  as  well  as  I could,  how  cruelly  I was 
hurt  by  the  pressure  of  his  thumb  and  finger.  He  seemed  to  apprehend 
my  meaning ; for,  lifting  up  the  lappet  of  his  coat,  he  put  me  gently 
into  it,  and  immediately  ran  along  with  me  to  his  master,  who  was  a 
substantial  farmer,  and  the  same  person  I had  first  seen  in  the  field. 

The  armer  having  (as  I supposed  by  their  talk)  received  such  an  ac- 
count of  me  as  his  servant  could  give  him,  took  a piece  of  a small  straw, 
about  the  size  of  a walking  staff,  and  therewith  lifted  up  the  lappets  of 
my  coat ; which  it  seems  he  thought  to  be  some  kind  of  covering 
that  nature  had  given  me.  He  blew  my  hairs  aside  to  take  a better 
view  of  my  face.  He  called  his  hinds  about  him,  and  asked  them  (as  I 
afterwards  learned)  whether  they  had  ever  seen  in  the  fields  any  little 
creature  that  resembled  me  ? He  then  placed  me  softly  on  the  ground 
upon  all  four,  but  I got  immediately  up,  and  walked  slowly  backwards 
and  forwards,  to  let  those  people  see  I had  no  intent  to  run  away.  They 
all  sate  down  in  a circle  about  me,  the  better  to  observe  my  motions.  I 
1 ulied  off  my  hat,  and  made  a low  bow  towards  the  farmer.  I fell  on 


A VOYAGE  TO  BROBDINGNAG. 


49 


my  knees,  And  lifted  up  my  hands  and  eyes,  and  spoke  several  words 
as  loud  as  I could  : I took  a purse  of  gold  out  of  my  pocket,  and  humbly 
presented  it  to  him.  He  received  it  on  the  palm  of  his  hand,  then  ap- 
plied it  close  to  his  eye,  to  see  what  it  w as,  and  afterwards  turned  it 
several  times  with  the  point  of  a pin,  (which  he  took  out  of  his  sleeve,) 
but  could  make  nothing  of  it.  Whereupon  I made  a sign  that  he  should 
place  his  hand  on  the  ground.  I took  the  purse,  and  opening  it,  poured 
all  the  gold  into  his  palm.  There  were  six  Spanish  pieces  of  four  pistoles 
each,  besides  twenty  or  thirty  smaller  coins.  I saw  him  wet  the  tip  of 
his  little  finger  upon  his  tongue,  and  take  up  one  of  my  largest  pieces, 
and  then  another,  but  he  seemed  to  be  wholly  ignorant  what  they  were. 
He  made  me  a sign  to  put  them  again  into  my  purse,  and  the  purse 
again  into  my  pocket,  which  after  offering  to  him  several  times,  1 thought 
it  best  to  do. 

The  farmer  by  this  time  was  convinced  I must  be  a rational  creature. 
He  spoke  often  to  me,  but  the  sound  of  his  voice  pierced  my  ears  like 
that  of  a water-mill,  yet  his  words  were  articulate  enough.  I answered 
as  loud  as  I could,  in  several  languages,  and  he  often  laid  his  ear  with- 
in two  yards  of  me  ; but  all  in  vain,  for  we  were  wholly  unintelligible  to 
each  other.  He  then  sent  his  servants  to  their  work,  and  taking  his 
handkerchief  out  of  his  pocket,  he  doubled  and  spread  it  on  his  left 
hand,  which  he  placed  flat  on  the  ground,  with  the  palm  upwards,  mak- 
ing me  a sign  to  step  into  it,  as  I could  easily  do,  for  it  was  net  above 
a foot  in  th^kness.  I thought  it  my  part  to  obey,  and  for  fear  of  falling, 
laid  myse*'  at  length  upon  the  handkerchief,  with  the  remainder  of  which 
he  lapped  me  up  to  the  head  for  further  security,  and  in  thjs  manner 
carried  me  home  to  his  house.  There  he  called  his  wife,  and  showed 
me  to  her  ; but  she  screamed  and  ran  back,  as  women  in  England  do  at 
the  sight  of  a toad  or  a spider.  However,  when  she  had  a while  seen 
my  behaviour,  and  how  well  I observed  the  signs  her  husband  made, 
'jhe  was  soon  reconciled,  and  by  degrees  grew  extremely  tender  of  me. 

It  was  about  twelve  at  noon,  and  a servant  brought  in  dinner.  It 
was  only  one  substantial  dish  of  meat  (fit  for  the  plain  condition  of  an 
husbandman)  in  a dish  of  about  four  and  twenty  foot  diameter.  The 
company  were  the  farmer  and  his  wife,  three  children,  and  an  old  grand- 
mother . When  they  were  sat  down,  the  farmer  placed  me  at  some  dis- 
tance from  him  on  the  table,  which  was  thirtv  foot  high  from  the  floor. 
I was  in  a terrible  fright,  and  kept  as  far  as  I could  from  the  edge  for 
fear  of  falling.  The  wife  minced  a bit  of  meat,  then  crumbled  some 
bread  on  3.  trencher,  and  placed  it  before  me..  I made  her  a low  bow, 
took  out  my  knife  and  fork,  and  fell  to  eat,  which  gave  them  exceeding 
delight.  The  mistress  sent  her  maid  for  a small  dram-cup,  which  held 
about  three  gallons,  and  filled  it  with  drink,  I took  up  the  vessel  with 
much  difficulty  in  both  hands,  #nd  in  a most  respectful  manner  drank 
to  her  ladyship's  health,  expressing  the  words  as  loud  as  I could  in  Eng- 
lish, which  made  the  company  laugh  so  heartily,  that  I was  almost 
deafened  with  the  noise.  This  liquor  tasted  like  a small  cyder,  and  was 
not  unpleasant.  Then  the  master  made  me  a sign  to  come  to  his  tren- 
cher-side ; but  as  I walked  on  the  table,  being  in  great  surprise  all  the 
time,  as  the  indulgent  reader  will  easily  conceive  and  excuse,  i happened 
to  stumble  against  a crust,  and  fell  flat  on  my  face,  but  received  no  hurt. 

4 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


50 

I got  up  immediately,  and  observing  the  good  people  to  be  in  much  con- 
cern, I took  my  hat  (which  I held  under  my  arm  out  of  good  manners) 
and  waving  it  over  my  head,  made  three  huzzas,  to  show  I had  got  no 
mischief  by  my  fall.  But  advancing  forwards  toward  my  master  (as  I 
shall  henceforth  call  him)  his  youngest  son  who  sate  next  him,  an  arch 
boy  of  about  ten  years  old,  took  me  up  by  the  legs,  and  held  me  so  high 
in  the  air,  that  I trembled  every  limb  ; but  his  father  snatched  me  from 
him,  and  at  the  same  time  gave  him  such  a box  on  the  left  ear,  as  would 
have  felled  an  European  troop  of  horse  to  the  earth,  ordering  him  to 
be  taken  from  the  table.  But  being  afraid  the  boy  might  owe  me  a 
spite,  and  well  remembering  how  mischievous  all  children  among  us 
naturally  are  to  sparrows,  rabbits,  young  kittens,  and  puppy  dogs,  1 fell 
on  my  knees,  and  pointing  to  the  boy,  made  my  master  to  understand, 
as  well  as  I could,  that  1 desired  his  son  might  be  pardoned.  The  father 
complied,  and  the  lad  took  his  seat  again  ; whereupon  I went  to  him 
and  kissed  his  hand,  which  my  master  took,  and  made  him  stroke  mt 
gently  with  it. 

In  the  midst  of  dinner,  my  mistress’s  favourite  cat  leapt  into  her 
lap.  I heard  a noise  behind  me  like  that  of  a dozen  stocking-weavers 
at  work  ; and  turning  my  head,  I found  it  proceeded  from  the  purring 
of  this  animal,  who  seemed  to  be  three  times  larger  than  an  ox,  as  I , 
computed  by  the  view  of  her  head,  and  one  of  her  paws,  while  her 
mistress  was  feeding  and  stroking  her.  The  fierceness  of  this  crea- 
ture’s countenance  altogether  discomposed  me,  though  I stood  at  the 
further  end  of  the  table,  above  fifty  foot  off,  and  although  my  mistress  . 
held  her  fast  for  fear  she  might  give  a spring,  and  seize  me  in  her 
talons.  But  it  happened  there  was  no  danger,  for  the  cat  took  not 
the  least  notice  of  me  when  my  master  placed  me  within  three  yards  * 
of  her.  And  as  I have  been  always  told,  and  found  true  by  experience  * 
in  my  travels,  that  flying,  or  discovering  fear  before  a fierce  animal,  is 
a certain  way  to  make  it  pursue  or  attack  you,  so  I resolved  in  this 
dangerous  juncture  to  show  no  manner  of  concern.  I walked  with 
intrepidity  five  or  six  times  before  the  very  head  of  the  cat,  and  came 
within  half  a yard  of  her  ; whereupon  she  drew  herself  back,  as  if  she 
were  more  afraid  of  me.  I had  less  apprehension  concerning  the; 
dogs,  whereof  three  or  four  came  into  the  room,  as  it  is  usual  in  far-  j 
mers’  houses  ; one  of  which  was  a mastiff,  equal  in  bulk  to  four  ehM 
phants,  and  a greyhound  somewhat  taller  than  the  mastiff,  but  not  so 
large. 

When  dinner  was  almost  done,  the  nurse  came  in  with  a child  of  a 
year  old  in  her  arms,  who  immediately  spied  me,  and  began  a squall 
that  you  might  have  heard  from  London  Bridge  to  Chelsea,  after  the 
usual  oratorv  of  infants,  to  get  me  for  a plaything.  The  mother,  out  of 
pure  indulgence  took  me  up,  and  put  me  towards  the  child,  who  pre- 
sently seized  me  by  the  middle,  and  got  my  head  in  his  mouth,  where 
.1  roared  so  loud  that  the  urchin  was  frighted,  and  let  me  drop,  and  I 
should  infallibly  have  broke  my  neck  if  the  mother  had  not  held  her| 
apron  under  me.  The  nurse,  to  quiet  her  babe,  made  use  of  a rattle,  j 
which  was  a kind  of  hollow  vessel  filled  with  great  stones,  and  fastened 
by  a cable  to  the  child’s  waist  ; but  all  in  vain,  S3  that  she  was  forced 
to  apply  the  last  remedy  by  giving  it  suck*  * must  confess  no  object 


A VOYAGE  TO  BROBDINGNAG. 


51 

ever  disgusted  me  so  much  as  the  sight  of  her  monstrous  breast,  which 
I cannot  tell  what  to  compare  with,  so  as  to  give  the  curious  reader  an 
dea  of  its  bulk,  shape  and  colour.  It  stood  prominent  six  foot,  and 
could  not  be  less  than  sixteen  in  circumference.  The  nipple  was  about 
half  the  bigness  of  my  head,  and  the  hue  both  of  that  and  the  dug  so 
varified  with  spots,  pimples  and  freckles,  that  nothing  could  appear  more 
nauseous  ; for  1 had  & near  sight  of  her,  she  sitting  down  the  more 
conveniently  to  give  suck,  and  I standing  on  the  table.  This  made  me 
reflect  upon  the  fair  skins  of  our  English  ladies,  who  appear  so  beau- 
tiful to  us,  only  because  they  are  of  our  own  size,  and  their  defects  not 
to  be  seen  but  through  a magnifying  glass,  where  we  find  by  experi- 
ment that  the  smoothest  and  whitest  skins  look  rough  and  coarse,  and 
ill-coloured. 

I remember  when  I was  at  Lilliput,  the  complexions  of  those  dimi- 
nutive people  appeared  to  me  the  fairest  in  the  world  ; and  talking 
upon  this  subject  with  a person  of  learning  there,  who  was  an  intimate 
friend  of  mine,  he  said  that  my  face  appeared  much  fairer  and  smoother 
when  he  looked  on  me  from  the  ground,  than  it  did  upon  a nearer  view 
when  I took  him  up  in  my  hand,  and  brought  him  close,  which  he  con- 
fessed was  at  first  a very  shocking  sight.  He  said  he  could  discover 
great  holes  in  my  skin  ; that  the  stumps  of  my  beard  were  ten  times 
stronger  than  the  bristles  of  a boar,  and  my  complexion  made  up  of 
several  colours  altogether  disagreeable  ; although  I must  beg  leave  to 
say  for  myself,  that  I am  as  fair  as  most  of  my  sex  and  country,  and  very 
little  sunburnt  by  my  travels.  On  the  other  side,  discoursing  of  the 
ladies  in  that  Emperor’s  court,  he  used  to  tell  me,  one  had  freckles, 
another  too  wide  a mouth,  a third  too  large  a nose,  nothing  of  which  I 
was  able  to  distinguish.  I confess  this  reflection  was  obvious  enough, 
which,  however,  I could  not  forbear,  lest  the  reader  might  think  those 
vast  creatures  were  actually  deformed  ; for  I must  do  them  justice  to 
say  they  are  a comely  race  of  people  ; and  particularly  the  features  of 
my  master’s  countenance,  although  he  were  but  a farmer,  when  I 
beheld  him  from  the  height  of  sixty  feet,  appeared  very  well  propor- 
tioned. 

When  dinner  was  done,  my  master  went  out  to  his  labourers,  and  as 
I could  discover  by  his  voice  and  gesture,  gave  his  wife  a strict  charge 
to  take  care  of  me.  I was  very  much  tired  and  disposed  to  sleep, 
which  my  mistress  perceiving,  she  put  me  on  her  own  bed,  and  covered 
me  with  a clean  white  handkerchief,  but  larger  and  coarser  than  the 
mainsail  of  a man-of-war. 

I slept  about  two  hours,  and  dreamed  I was  at  home  with  my  wife 
and  children,  which  aggravated  my  sorrows  when  I awaked  and  found 
myself  alone  in  a vast  room,  between  two  and  three  hundred  foot  wide, 
and  above  two  hundred  high,  lying  in  a bed  twenty  yards  wide.  My 
mistress  was  gone  about  her  household  affairs,  and  had  locked  me  in. 
The  bed  was  eight  yards  from  the  floor.  Some  natural  necessities 
required  me  to  get  down  ; I durst  not  presume  to  call,  and  if  1 had,  it 
would  have  been  in  vain,  with  such  a voice  as  mine,  at  so  great  a dis- 
tance as  from  the  room  where  I lay  to  the  kitchen  where  the  family 
kept.  While  I was  under  these  circumstances,  two  rats  crept  up  the 
curtains,  and  ran  smelling  backwards  and  forwards  on  the  bed.  One 


5* 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


of  them  came  up  almost  to  my  face,  whereupon  I rose  in  a fright,  and 
drew  out  my  hanger  to  defend  myself.  These  horrible  animals  had  the 
boldness  to  attack  me  on  both  sides,  and  one  of  them  held  his  fore-feet 
at  my  collar ; but  I had  the  good  fortune  to  rip  up  his  belly  before  he 
could  do  me  any  mischief.  He  fell  down  at  my  feet,  and  the  other 
seeing  the  fate  of  his  comrade,  made  his  escape,  but  not  without  one 
good  wound  on  the  back,  which  I gave  him  as  he  fled,  and  made  the 
blood  run  trickling  from  him.  After  this  exploit,  I walked  gently  to 
and  fro  on  the  bed,  to  recover  my  breath  and  loss  of  spirits*  These 
creatures  were  of  the  size  of  a large  mastiff,  but  infinitely  more  nimble 
and  fierce,  so  that  if  I had  taken  off  my  belt  before  I went  to  sleep,  I 
must  have  infallibly  been  torn  to  pieces  and  devoured.  I measured  the 
tail  of  the  dead  rat,  and  found  it  to  be  two  yards  long,  wanting  an 
inch  ; but  it  went  against  my  stomach  to  drag  the  carcase  off  the  bed, 
where  it  lay  still  bleeding  ; I observed  it  had  yet  some  life,  but  with  a 
strong  slash  across  the  neck  I thoroughly  dispatched  it. 

Soon  after,  my  mistress  came  into  the  room,  who  seeing  me  all 
bloody,  ran  and  took  me  up  in  her  hand.  I pointed  to  the  dead  rat, 
smiling  and  making  other  signs  to  show  I was  not  hurt,  whereat  she 
was  extremely  rejoiced,  calling  the  maid  to  take  up  the  dead  rat  with 
a pair  of  tongs,  and  throw  it  out  of  the  window.  Then  she  set  me  on 
a table,  where  I showed  her  my  hanger  all  bloody,  and  wiping  it  on  the 
lappet  of  my  coat,  returned  it  to  the  scabbard.  1 was  pressed  to  do 
more  than  one  thing,  which  another  could  not  do  for  me,  and  therefore 
endeavoured  to  rtiake  my  mistress  understand  that  I desired  to  be  set 
down  on  the  floor,  which  after  she  had  done,  my  bashfulness  would 
not  suffer  me  to  express  myself  farther  than  by  pointing  to  the  door, 
and  bowing  several  times.  The  good  woman  with  much  difficulty  at 
last  perceived  what  I would  be  at,  and  taking  me  up  again  in  her  hand, 
walked  into  the  garden,  where  she  set  me  down.  I went  on  one  side 
about  two  hundred  yards,  and  beckoning  to  her  not  to  look  or  to  follow 
me,  I hid  myself  between  two  leaves  of  sorrel,  and  there  discharged  the 
necessities  of  nature. 

I hope  the  gentle  reader  will  excuse  me  for  dwelling  on  these  and 
the  like  particulars,  which  however  insignificant  they  may  appear  to 
grovelling  vulgar  minds,  yet  will  certainly  help  a philosopher  to  enlarge 
his  thoughts  and  imagination,  and  apply  them  to  the  benefit  of  public 
as  well  as  private  life,  which  was  my  sole  design  in  presenting  this  and 
other  accounts  of  my  travels  to  the  world,  wherein  I have  been  chiefly 
studious  of  truth,  without  affecting  any  ornaments  of  learning  or  of 
style.  But  the  whole  scene  of  this  voyage  made  so  strong  an  impres- 
sion on  my  mind,  and  is  so  deeply  fixed  in  my  memory,  that  in  com- 
mitting it  to  paper  I did  not  omit  one  material  circumstance.  How- 
ever, upon  a strict  review,  I blotted  out  several  passages  of  less  mo- 
ment which  were  in  my  first  copy, for  fear  of  being  censured  as  tedious 
and  trifling,  whereof  travellers  are  often,  perhaps  not  without  justice 
accused. 


A VOYAGE  TO  BR0BD1NGNA G* 


53 


CHAPTER  II. 

A description  of  the  farmer’s  daughter.  The  author  carried  to  a market  town, 
aud  then  to  the  metropolis.  The  particulars  of  his  journey. 

MY  mistress  had  a daughter  of  nine  years  old,  a child  of  toward 
parts  for  her  age,  very  dextrous  at  her  needle,  and  skilful  in 
dressing  her  baby.  Her  mother  and  she  contrived  to  fit  up  the  baby’s 
cradle  for  me  against  night : the  cradle  was  put  into  a small  drawer  of 
a cabinet,  and  the  drawer  placed  upon  a hanging-shelf,  for  fear  of  the 
rats.  This  was  my  bed  all  the  time  I stayed  with  those  people,  though 
made  more  convenient  by  degrees,  as  I began  to  learn  their  language, 
and  make  my  wants  known.  This  young  girl  was  so  handy,  that  after 
I had  once  or  twice  pulled  off  my  clothes  before  her,  she  was  able  to 
dress  and  undress  me,  though  I never  gave  her  that  trouble  when  she 
would  let  me  do  either  myself.  She  made  me  seven  shirts,  and  some 
other  linen,  of  as  fine  cloth  as  could  be  got,  which  indeed  was  coarser 
than  sackcloth  ; and  these  she  constantly  washed  for  me  with  her  own 
hands.  She  was  likewise  my  schoolmistress  to  teach  me  the  language  : 
when  I pointed  to  anything,  she  told  me  the  name  of  it  in  her  own 
tongue,  so  that  in  a few  days  I was  able  to  call  for  whatever  I had  a 
mind  to.  She  was  very  good-natured,  and  not  above  forty  foot  high, 
being  little  for  her  age.  She  gave  me  the  name  of  Grildrig,  wdiich  the 
family  took  up,  and  afterwards  the  whole  kingdom.  The  word  imports 
what  the  Latins  call  Nanunculus ; the  Italians,  Homunceletino  ; and  the 
English,  Mannikin.  To  her  I chiefly  owe  my  preservation  in  that 
country  : we  never  parted  while  I was  there  ; 1 called  her  my  Glum- 
dalclitch,  or  little  nurse  : and  I should  be  guilty  of  great  ingratitude  if 
I omitted  this  honourable  mention  of  her  care  and  affection  towards 
me,  which  I heartily  wish  it  lay  in  my  power  to  requite  as  she  deserves, 
instead  of  being  the  innocent  but  unhappy  instrument  of  her  disgrace, 
as  I have  too  much  reason  to  fear. 

It  now  began  to  be  known  and  talked  of  in  the  neighbourhood,  that 
my  master  had  found  a strange  animal  in  the  field  about  the  bigness  of 
a Splacknuck,  but  exactly  shaped  in  every  part  like  a human  creature  ; 
which  it  likewise  imitated  in  all  its  actions  ; seemed  to  speak  in  a little 
language  of  its  own,  had  already  learned  several  words  of  theirs,  went 
erect  upon  two  legs,  was  tarne  and  gentle,  would  come  when  it  was 
called,  do  whatever  it  was  bid,  had  the  finest  limbs  in  the  world,  and 
a complexion  fairer  than  a nobleman’s  daughter  of  three  years  old. 
Another  farmer  who  lived  hard  by,  and  was  a particular  friend  of  my 
master,  came  on  a visit  on  purpose  to  inquire  into  the  truth  of  this 
story.  I was  immediately  produced,  and  placed  upon  a table,  where  I 
walked  as  I was  commanded,  drew  my  hanger,  put  it  up  again,  made 
my  reverence  to  my  master’s  guest,  asked  him  in  his  own  language  how 
he  did,  and  told  him  he  was  welcome,  just  as  my  little  nurse  had  in- 
structed me.  This  man,  who  was  old  and  dim-sighted,  put  on  his 
spectacles  to  behold  me  better,  at  which  I could  not  forbear  laughing 
very  heartily,  for  his  eyes  appeared  like  the  full  moon  shining  into  a 
chamber  at  two  windows.  Our -people,  who  discovered  the  cause  of 


54 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


my  mirth,  bore  me  company  in  laughing,  at  which  the  old  fellow  was 
fool  enough  to  be  angry  and  out  of  countenance.  He  had  the  character 
of  a great  miser,  and  to  my  misfortune  he  well  deserved  it  by  the  cursed 
advice  he  gave  my  master  to  show  me  as  a sight  upon  a market-day  in 
the  next  town,  which  was  half  an  hour’s  riding,  about  two  and  twenty 
miles  from  our  house.  I guessed  there  was  some  mischief  contriving, 
v/hen  I observed  my  master  and  his  friend  whispering  long  together, 
sometimes  pointing  at  me  ; and  my  fears  made  me  fancy  that  I over- 
heard and  understoood  some  of  their  words.  But  the  next  morning, 
-Glumdalclitch,  my  little  nurse,  told  me  the  whole  matter,  which  she  had 
cunningly  picked  out  from  her  mother.  The  poor  girl  laid  me  on  her 
bosom,  and  fell  a weeping  with  shame  and  grief.  She  apprehended 
some  mischief  would  happen  to  me  from  rude,  vulgar  folks,  who  might 
squeeze  me  to  death,  or  break  one  of  my  limbs  by  taking  me  in  their 
hands.  She  had  also  observed  how  modest  I was  in  my  nature,  how 
nicely  I regarded  my  honour,  and  what  an  indignity  I should  conceive 
it  to  be  exposed  for  money  as  a public  spectacle  to  the  meanest  of  the 
people.  She  said,  her  papa  and  mamma  had  promised  that  Grildrig 
should  be  hers,  but  now  she  found  they  meant  to  serve  her  as  they 
did  last  year,  when  they  pretended  to  give  her  a lamb,  and  yet,  as  soon 
as  it  was  fat,  sold  it  to  a butcher.  For  my  own  part  I may  truly  affirm 
that  I was  less  concerned  than  my  nurse.  I had  a strong  hope,  which 
never  left  me,  that  I should  one  day  recover  my  liberty  ; and  as  to  the 
ignominy  of  being  carried  about  for  a monster,  I considered  myself  to 
be  a perfect  stranger  in  the  country,  and  that  such  a misfortune  could  • 
never  be  charged  upon  me  as  a reproach  if  ever  I should  return  to 
England  ; since  the  King  of  Great  Britain  himself,  in  my  condition, 
must  have  undergone  the  same  distress.  i 

My  master,  pursuant  to  the  advice  of  his  friend,  carried  me  in  a box  the 
next  market-day  to  the  neighbouring  town,  and  took  along  with  him  his 
little  daughter,  my  nurse,  upon  a pillion  behind  him.  The  box  was  close 
on  every  side,  with  a little  door  for  me  to  go  in  and  out,  and  a few 
gimlet-holes  to  let  in  air.  The  girl  had  been  so  careful  as  to  put  the  quilt 
of  her  baby’s  bed  into  it  for  me  to  lie  down  on.  However,  I was  terribly 
shaken  and  discomposed  in  this  journey,  though  it  were  but  of  half  an 
hour.  For  the  horse  went  about  forty  feet  at  every  step,  and  trotted  so 
high  that  the  agitation  was  equal  to  the  rising  and  falling  of  a ship  in  ' 
a great  storm,  but  much  more  frequent.  Our  journey  was  somewhat 
further  than  from  London  to  St.  Albans.  My  master  alighted  at  an  inn 
which  he  used  to  frequent ; and  after  consulting  a while  with  the  inn- 
keeper,  and  making  some  necessary  preparations,  he  hired  the  Grultrud, 
or  Crier,  to  give  notice  through  the  town  of  a strange  creature  to  be  seen 
at  the  sign  of  the  Green  Eagle,  not  so  big  as  a splacknuck  (an  animal  in 
that  country  very  finely  shaped,  about  six  foot  long),  and  in  every  part 
of  the  body  resembling  an  human  creature,  could  speak  several  words, 
and  perform  an  hundred  diverting  tricks. 

I was  placed  upon  a table  in  the  largest  room  of  the  inn,  which  might 
be  near  three  hundred  foot  square.  My  little  nurse  stood  on  a low  stool 
close  to  the  table  to  take  care  of  me,  and  direct  what  I should  do.  My 
master,  to  avoid  a crowd,  would  suffer  only  thirty  people  at  a time  to 
see  me*  I walked  about  on  the  table  as  the  girl  commanded  : she  asked 


A VOYAGE  TO  BR0BD1NGNAG. 


55 


me  questions  as  far  as  she  knew  my  understanding  of  the  language 
reached,  and  I answered  them  as  loud  as  1 could.  I turned  about 
several  times  to  the  company,  paid  my  humble  respects,  said  they  were 
welcome,  and  used  some  other  speeches  f had  been  taught.  I took  up 
a thimhle  filled  with  liquor,  which  Glumdalclitch  had  given  me  for  a 
cup,  and  drank  their  health.  I drew  out  my  hanger,  and  flourished 
with  it  after  the  manner  of  fencers  in  England.  My  nurse  gave  me  part 
of  a straw,  which  I exercised  as  a pike,  having  learned  the  art  in  my 
youth.  I was  that  day  shown  to  twelve  sets  of  company,  and  as  often 
forced  to  go  over  again  with  the  same  fopperies,  till  I was  half  dead 
with  weariness  and  vexation  ; for  those  who  had  seen  me  made  such 
wonderful  reports  that  the  people  were  ready  to  break  down  the  doors 
to  come  in.  My  master,  for  his  own  interest,  would  not  suffer  any  one 
to  touch  me  except  my  nurse ; and,  to  prevent  danger,  benches  were  set 
round  the  table  at  such  a distance  as  put  me  out  of  everybody’s  reach. 
However,  an  unlucky  schoolboy  aimed  a hazel-nut  directly  at  my 
head,  which  very  narrowly  missed  me ; otherwise,  it  came  with  so  much 
violence  that  it  would  have  infallibly  knocked  out  my  brains,  for  it  was 
almost  as  large  as  a small  pumpkin  ; but  I had  the  satisfaction  to  see 
the  young  rogue  well  beaten,  and  turned  out  of  the  room. 

My  master  gave  public  notice  that  he  would  show  me  again  the 
next  market-day  ; and  in  the  meantime  he  prepared  a more  convenient 
vehicle  for  me,  which  he  had  reason  enough  to  do  ; for  I was  so  tired 
with  my  first  journey,  and  with  entertaining  company  for  eight  hours 
together,  that  I could  hardly  stand  upon  my  legs  or  speak  a word.  It 
was  at  least  three  days  before  I recovered  my  strength  ; and  that  I 
might  have  no  rest  at  home,  all  the  neighbouring  gentlemen  from  an 
hundred  miles  round,  hearing  of  my  fame,  came  to  see  me  at  my  master’s 
own  house.  There  could  not  be  fewer  than  thirty  persons  with  their 
wives  and  children  (for  the  country  was  very  populous) ; and  my  master 
demanded  the  rate  of  a full  room  whenever  he  showed  me  at  home, 
although  it  were  only  to  a single  family  ; so  that  for  some  time  I had 
but  little  ease  every  day  of  the  week  (except  Wednesday,  which  is  their 
Sabbath)  although  I were  not  carried  to  the  town. 

My  master,  finding  how  profitable  I was  like  to  be,  res  Jved  to  carry 
me  to  the  most  considerable  cities  of  the  kingdom.  Ha  ing  therefore 
provided  himself  with  all  things  necessary  for  a long  journey,  and 
settled  his  affairs  at  home,  he  took  leave  of  his  wife,  and  upon  the  17th 
of  August,  1703,  about  two  months  after  my  arrival,  we  set  out  for  the 
metropolis,  situated  near  the  middle  of  that  empire,  and  about  three 
thousand  miles  distance  from  our  house;  my  master  made  his  daughter, 
Glumdalclitch,  ride  behind  him.  She  carried  me  on  her  lap  in  a box 
tied  about  her  waist.  The  girl  had  lined  it  on  all  sides  with  the  softest 
cloth  she  could  get,  well  quilted  underneath,  furnished  it  with  her  baby’s 
bed,  provided  me  with  linen  and  other  necessaries,  and  made  every- 
thing as  convenient  as  she  could.  We  had  no  other  company  but  a boy 
of  the  house,  who  rode  afte*  us  with  the  luggage. 

My  master’s  design  was  to  show  me  in  all  the  towns  by  the  way,  and 
to  step  out  of  the  road  for  fifty  or  an  hundred  miles  to  any  village,  or 
person  of  quality’s  house,  where  he  might  expect  custom.  We  made 
easy  journeys  of  not  above  seven  or  eight  score  miles  a day ; for  Glum- 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


5« 

dalclitch,  on  purpose  to  spare  me,  complained  she  was  tired  with  the 
trotting  of  the  horse.  She  often  took  me  out  of  my  box  at  my  own 
desire  to  give  me  air,  and  showed  me  the  country,  but  always  held  me 
fast  by  a leading-string.  Wd  passed  over  five  or  six  rivers,  many  de- 
grees broader  and  deeper  than  the  Nile  or  the  Ganges  ; and  there  was 
hardly  a rivulet  so  small  as  the  Thames  at  London  Bridge.  W e were 
ten  weeks  in  our  journey,  and  I was  shown  in  eighteen  large  towns 
besides  many  villages  and  private  families. 

On  the  26th  day  of  October  we  arrived  at  the  metropolis,  called,  in 
their  language,  Lorbrulgrud,  or  Pride  of  the  Universe.  My  master  took 
a lodging  in  the  principal  street  of  the  city,  not  far  from  the  royal 
palace,  and  put  out  bills  in  the  usual  form,  containing  an  exact  descrip- 
tion of  my  person  and  parts.  He  hired  a large  room  between  three  and 
four  hundred  foot  wide  ; he  provided  a table  sixty  foot  in  diameter,  upon 
which  I was  to  act  my  part,  and  palisadoed  it  round  three  foot  from  the 
edge,  and  as  many  high,  to  prevent  my  falling  over.  I was  shown  ten 
times  a day,  to  the  wonder  and  satisfaction  of  all  people.  I could  now 
speak  the  language  tolerably  well,  and  perfectly  understood  every  word 
that  was  spoke  1 to  me.  Besides,  I had  learned  their  alphabet,  and 
could  make  a shift  to  explain  a sentence  here  and  there  ; for  Glum- 
dalclitch  had  been  my  instructor  while  we  were  at  home,  and  at  leisure  ' 
hours  during  our  journey.  She  carried  a little  book  in  her  pocket  not 
much  larger  than  a Sanson’s  Atlas  ; it  was  a common  treatise  for  the 
use  of  young  girls,  giving  a short  account  of  their  religion  ; out  of  this 

she  taught  me  my  letters,  and  interpreted  the  words. 

’ 

CHAPTER  III. 

The  author  sent  for  to  court.  The  Queen  buys  him  of  his  master,  the  farmer,  ; 
and  presents  him  to  the  King.  He  disputes  with  his  majesty’s  great  scholars. 
An  apartment  at  court  provided  for  the  author.  He  is  in  high  favour  with 
the  Queen.  He  stands  up  for  the  honour  of  his  own  country.  His  quanels 
with  the  Queen’s  dwarf. 

THE  frequent  labours  I underwent  every  day  made  in  a few  weeks  a 
very  considerable  change  in  my  health  ; the  more  my  master  got 
by  me,  the  more  unsatiable  he  grew.  I had  quite  lost  my  stomach, 
and  was  almost  reduced  to  a skeleton.  The  farmer  observed  it,  and 
concluding  I soon  must  die,  resolved  to  make  as  good  a hand  of  me  as 
he  could.  While  he  was  thus  reasoning  and  resolving  with  himself,  a 
Slardral,  or  gentleman  usher,  came  from  court,  commanding  my  master 
to  carry  me  immediately  thither  for  the  diversion  of  the  queen  and  her 
ladies.  Some  of  the  latter  had  already  been  to  see  me,  and  reported 
strange  things  of  my  beauty,  behaviour,  and  good  sense.  Her  Majesty 
and  those  who  attended  her  were  beyond  measure  delighted  with  my 
demeanour.  I fell  on  my  knees,  and  begged  the  honour  ot  kissing  her 
imperial  foot  ; but  this  gracious  princess  held  out  her  little  finger 
towards  me  (after  I was  set  on  a taBtei,  whi$h  I embraced  in  both  my 
arms,  and  put  the  tip  of  it,  with  the  utmost  respect,  to  my  lip.  She 
made  me  some  general  questions  about  my  country  and  my  travels, 
which  I answered  as  distinctly  and  in  as  few  wrords  as  I could.  She 
asked  whether  I would  be  content  to  live  at  court.  I bowed  down  to 


A VOYAGE  TO  BR0BD1NGNAG. 


57 


the  board  of  the  table,  and  humbly  answered  that  I was  my  master’s 
slave,  but  if  I were  at  my  own  disposal  I should  be  proud  to  devote  my 
life  to  her  majesty’s  service.  She  then  asked  my  master  whether  he 
were  willing  to  sell  me  at  a good  price.  He,  who  apprehended  l 
could  not  live  a month,  was  ready  enough  to  part  with  me,  and  de- 
manded a thousand  pieces  of  gold,  which  were  ordered  him  on  the  spot, 
each  piece  being  about  the  bigness  of  eight  hundred  moidores  ; but, 
allowing  for  the  proportion  of  all  things  between  that  country  and 
Europe,  and  the  high  price  of  gold  among  them,  was  hardly  so  great  a 
sum  as  a thousand  guineas  would  be  in  Fngland.  I then  said  to  the 
Queen,  since  I was  now  her  Majesty’s  most  bumble  creature  and  vassal, 
I must  beg  the  favour  that  Glumdalclitch,  who  had  always  tended  me 
with  so  much  care  and  kindness,  and  understood  to  do  it  so  well,  might 
be  admitted  into  her  service,  and  continue  to  be  my  nurse  and  in- 
structor. Her  majesty  agreed  to  my  petition,  and  easily  got  the  far- 
mer’s consent,  who  was  glad  enough  to  have  his  daughter  preferred  at 
court ; and  the  poor  girl  herself  was  not  able  to  hide  her  joy.  My  late 
master  withdrew,  bidding  me  farewell,  and  saying  he  had  left  me  in  a good 
service,  to  which  I replied  not  a word,  only  making  him  a slight  bow. 

The  Queen  observed  my  coldness,  and,  when  the  farmer  was  gone 
out  of  the  apartment,  asked  me  The  reason.  I made  bold  to  tell  her 
Majesty  that  I owed  no  other  obligation  to  my  late  master,  than  his  not 
dashing  out  the  brains  of  a poor  harmless  creature  found  by  chance  in 
his  field  ; which  obligation  was  amply  recompensed  by  the  gain  he  had 
made  in  showing  me  through  half  the  kingdom,  and  the  price  he  had 
now  sold  me  for ; that  the  life  I had  since  led  was  laborious  enough  to 
kill  an  animal  of  ten  times  my  strength  ; that  my  health  was  much  im- 
paired by  the  continual  drudgery  of  entertaining  the  rabble  every  hour 
of  the  day,  and  that  if  my  master  had  not  thought  my  life  in  danger, 
her  majesty  would  not  have  got  so  cheap  a bargain.  But  as  I was  out 
of  all  fear  of  being  ill  treated  under  the  protection  of  so  great  and  good 
an  empress — the  ornament  of  nature,  the  darling  of  the  world,  the  de- 
light of  her  subjects,  the  phoenix  of  the  creation — so  I hoped  my  late 
master’s  apprehensions  would  appear  to  be  groundless,  for  I already 
found  my  spirits  to  revive  by  the  influence  of  her  most  august  presence. 

This  was  the  sum  of  my  speech,  delivered  with  great  improprieties 
and  hesitation  ; the  latter  part  was  altogether  framed  in  the  style  pe- 
culiar to  that  people,  whereof  1 learned  some  phrases  from  Glum- 
dalclitch, while  she  was  carrying  me  to  court. 

The  Queen,  giving  great  allowance  for  my  defectiveness  in  speaking, 
was  however  surprised  at  so  much  wit  and  good  sense  in  so  diminutive 
a:i  animal.  She  took  me  in  her  own  hands,  and  carried  me  to  the 
King,  who  was  then  retired  to  his  cabinet.  His  Majesty,  a prince  of 
much  gravity  and  austere  countenance,  not  well  observing  my  shape  at 
first  view,  asked  the  Queen,  after  a cold  manner,  how  long  it  was  since 
she  grew  fond  of  a Splacnuck  ; for  such  it  seems  he  took  me  to  be  as  I 
lay  upon  my  breast  in  her  Majesty’s  right  hand.  But  this  princes1', 
who  hath  an  infinite  deal  of  wit  and  humour,  set  me  gently  on  my  feet 
upon  the  scrutore,  and  commanded  me  to  give  his  Majesty  an  account 
of  myself,  which  1 did  in  a very  few  words  ; and  Glumdalclitch,  who  at* 
tended  at  the  cabinet  door,  and  could  not  endure  I should  be  out  of  her 


58  DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 

sight,  being  admitted,  confirmed  all  that  had  passed  from  my  arrival  al 
her  father’s  house. 

The  King,  although  he  be  as  learned  a person  as  any  in  his  domi- 
nions, had  been  educated  in  the  study  of  philosophy,  and  particularly 
mathematics  ; yet,  when  he  observed  my  shape  exactly  and  saw  me 
walk  erect,  before  I began  to  speak,  conceived  I might  be  a piece  of 
clock-work  (which  is  in  that  country  arrived  to  a very  great  perfection), 
contrived  by  some  ingenious  artist.  But  when  hd  heard  my  voice,  and 
found  what  I delivered  to  be  regular  and  rational,  he  could  not  con- 
ceal his  astonishment.  He  was  by  no  means  satisfied  with  the  relation 
I gave  him  of  the  manner  I came  into  his  kingdom,  but  thought  it  a 
story  concerted  between  Glumdalclitch  and  her  father,  who  had  taught 
me  a set  of  words  to  make  me  sell  at  a higher  price.  Upon  this  ima- 
gination he  put  several  other  questions  to  me,  and  still  received  rational 
answers,  no  otherwise  defective  than  by  a foreign  accent,  and  an  im- 
perfect knowledge  in  the  language,  with  some  rustic  phrases  which  I 
had  learned  at  the  farmer’s  house,  and  did  not  suit  the  polite  style  of  a 
court. 

His  Majesty  c;ent  for  three  great  scholars  who  were  then  in  their 
weekly  waiting  (according  to  the  custom  in  that  country).  These  , 
gentlemen,  after  they  had  a while  examined  my  shape  with  much 
nicety,  were  of  different  opinions  concerning  me.  They  all  agreed  that 
I could  not  be  produced  according  to  the  regular  laws  of  nature,  because 
I was  not  framed  with  a capacity  of  preserving  my  life,  either  by  swift-  , 
ness,  or  climbing  of  trees,  or  digging  holes  in  the  earth.  They  observed 
by  my  teeth,  which  they  viewed  with  great  exactness,  that  I was  a car- 
nivorous animal  ; yet  most  quadrupeds  being  an  overmatch  for  me, 
and  field-mice,  with  some  others,  too  nimble,  they  could  not  imagine  , 
how  I should  be*able  to  support  myself,  unless  I fed  upon  snails  and 
other  insects,  which  they  offered  by  many  learned  arguments  to  evince 
that  I could  not  possibly  do.  One  of  these  virtuosi  seemed  to  think 
that  I might  be  an  embryo,  or  abortive  birth.  But  this  opinion  was 
rejected  by  the  other  two,  who  observed  my  limbs  to  be  perfect  and 
finished,  and  that  I had  lived  several  years,  as  it  was  manifest  from  my 
beard,  the  stumps  whereof  they  plainly  discovered  through  a magnifying 
glass.  They  would  not  allow  me  to  be  a dwarf,  because  my  littleness  was  { 
beyond  all  degrees  of  comparison  ; for  the  Ou eon’s  favourite  dwarf,  th/e 
smallest  ever  known  in  that  kingdom,  was  near  thirty  foot  high.  After 
much  debate,  they  concluded  unanimously^  that  I was  only  Relplum  ; 
Scalcath,  which  is  interpreted,  literally,  lusus  natures;  a determination 
exactly  agreeable  to  the  modern  philosophy  of  Europe,  whose  professors, 
disdaining  the  old  evasion  of  occult  causes,  whereby  the  followers  of 
Aristotle  endeavour  in  vain  to  disguise  their  ignorance,  have  invented 
this  wonderful  solution  of  all  difficulties,  to  the  unspeakable  advance- 
ment of  human  knowledge. 

After  this  decisive  conclusion,  I entreated  to  be  heard  a word  or 
two.  I applied  myself  to  the  King,  and  assured  his  Majesty  that  I 
came  from  a country  which  abounded  with  several  millions  of  both 
sexes,  and  of  my  own  stature  ; wfiere  the  animals,  trees,  and  houses 
were  all  in  proportion,  and  where  by  consequence  I might  be  as  able  to 
defend  myself,  and  to  find  sustenance,  as  any  of  his  Majesty’s  subjects 


A VOYAGE  TO  BROBDINGNAG. 


59 


could  do  here ; which  I took  for  a full  answer  to  those  gentlemen’s 
arguments.  To  this  they  only  replied  with  a smile  of  contempt,  saying, 
that  the  farmer  had  instructed  me  very  well  in  my  lesson.  The  King, 
who  had  a much  better  understanding,  dismissing  his  learned  men, 
sent  for  the  farmer,  who  by  good  fortune  was  not  yet  gone  out  of  town. 
Having  therefore  first  examined  him  privately,  and  then  confronted  him 
with  me  and  the  young  girl,  his  Majesty  began  to  think  that  what  we 
told  him  might  possibly  be  true.  He  desired  the  Queen  to  order  that 
a particular  care  should  be  taken  of  me,  and  was  of  opinion  that  Glum- 
dalclitch  should  still  continue  in  her  office  of  attending  me,  because  he 
observed  we  had  a great  affection  for  each  other.  A convenient  apart- 
ment was  provided  for  her  at  court ; she  had  a sort  of  governess  ap- 
pointed to  take  care  of  her  education,  a maid  to  dress  her,  and  two 
other  servants  for  menial  offices  ; but  the  care  of  me  was  wholly  ap- 
propriated to  herself.  The  Queen  commanded  her  own  cabinet-maker 
to  contrive  a box  that  might  serve  me  for  a bedchamber,  after  the  model 
that  Glumdalclitch  and  I should  agree  upon.  This  man  was  a most 
ingenious  artist,  and  according  to  my  directions,  in  three  weeks  finished 
for  me  a wooden  chamber  of  sixteen  foot  square,  and  twelve  high,  with 
sash  windows,  a door,  and  two  closets,  like  a London  bed-chamber. 
The  board  that  made  the  ceiling  was  to  be  lifted  up  and  down  by  two 
hinges,  to  put  in  a bed  ready  furnished  by  her  Majesty’s  upholsterer, 
which  Glumdalclitch  took  out  every  day  to  air,  made  it  with  her  own 
hands,  and  letting  it  down  at  night  locked  up  the  roof  over  me.  A nice 
workman,  who  was  famous  for  little  curiosities,  undertook  to  make  me  two 
chairs  with  backs  and  frames  of  a substance  not  unlike  ivory,  and  two 
tables  with  a cabinet  to  put  my  things  in.  The  room  was  quilted  on  all 
sides,  as  well  as  the  floor  and  the  ceiling,  to  prevent  any  accident  from 
the  carelessness  of  those  who  carried  me,  and  to  break  the  force  of  a 
jolt  when  I went  in  a coach.  I desired  a lock  for  my  door,  to  prevent 
rats  and  mice  from  coming  in  ; the  smith,  after  several  attempts,  made 
the  smallest  that  ever  w^as  seen  among  them,  for  1 have  known  a larger 
at  the  gate  of  a gentleman’s  house  in  England.  I made  a shift  to  keep 
the  key  in  a pocket  of  my  own,  fearing  Glumdalclitch  might  lose  it. 
The  Queen  likewise  ordered  the  thinnest  silks  that  could  be  got  to 
make  me  clothes,  not  much  thicker  than  an  English  blanket,  very  cum- 
bersome till  I was  accustomed  to  them.  They  were  after  the  fashion 
of  the  kingdom,  partly  resembling  the  Persian,  and  partly  the  Chinese, 
and  are  a very  grave  and  decent  habit. 

The  Queen  became  so  fond  of  my  company  that  she  could  not  dine 
without  me.  1 had  a table  placed  upon  the  same  at  which  her  Ma- 
jesty eat,  just  at  her  left  elbow,  and  a chair  to  sit  on.  Glumdalclitch 
stood  upon  a stool  on  the  floor  near  my  table  to  assist  and  take  care  of 
me.  I had  an  entire  set  of  silver  dishes  and  plates,  and  other  neces- 
saries ; which,  in  proportion  to  those  of  the  Queen,  were  not  much 
bigger  than  what  I have  seen  of  the  same  kind  in  a London  toy -shop, 
for  the  furniture  of  a baby-house.  These  my  little  nurse  kept  in  her 
pocket  in  a silver  box,  and  gave  me  at  meals  as  I waifted  them,  always 
cleaning  them  herself.  No  person  dined  with  the  Queen  but  the  two 
princesses  royal,  the  elder  sixteen  years  old,  and  the  younger  at  that 
time  thirteen  and  a month.  Her  Majesty  used  to  put  a bit  of  meat 


6o 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS . 


upon  one  of  my  dishes,  out  of  which  I carved  for  myself ; and  her  di- 
version was  to  see  me  eat  in  miniature.  For  the  Queen  (who  had 
indeed  but  a weak  stomach)  took  up  at  one  mouthful  as  much  as  a dozen 
English  farmers  could  eat  at  a meal,  which  to  me  was  for  some  time  a 
very  nauseous  sight.  She  would  crunch  the  wing  of  a lark,  bones  and 
all,  between  her  teeth,  although  it  were  nine  times  as  large  as  that  of  a 
full-grown  turkey ; and  put  a bit  of  bread  in  her  mouth  as  big  as  two 
twelvepenny  loaves.  She  drank  out  of  a golden  cup  above  a hogshead 
at  a draught.  Her  knives  were  twice  as  long  as  a scythe  set  straight 
upon  the  handle.  The  spoons,  forks,  and  other  instruments  were  all  in 
the  same  proportion.  I remember,  when  Glumdalclitch  carried  me  out 
of  curiosity  to  see  some  of  the  tables  at  court,  where  ten  or  a dozen  of 
these  enormous  knives  and  forks  were  lifted  up  together,  I thought  I 
had  never  till  then  beheld  so  terrible  a sight. 

It  is  the  custom  that,  every  Wednesday  (which,  as  I have  before  ob- 
served, was  their  Sabbath),  the  King  and  Queen,  with  the  royal  issue 
of  both  sexes,  dine  together  in  the  apartment  of  his  Majesty,  to  whom 
I was  now  become  a great  favourite  ; and  at  these  times  my  little  chair 
and  table  were  placed  at  his  left  hand  before  one  of  the  salt-cellars. 
This  Prince  took  a pleasure  in  conversing  with  me,  inquiring  into  the  - 
manners,  religion,  laws,  government,  and  learning  of  Europe  ; wherein 
I gave  him  the  best  account  I was  able.  His  apprehension  was  so 
clear,  and  his  judgment  so  exact,  that  he  made  very  wise  reflections  and  ; 
observations  upon  all  I said.  But  I confess  that,  after  I had  been  a little  • 
too  copious  in  talking  of  my  own  beloved  country,  of  our  trade,  and 
wars  by  sea  and  land,  of  our  schisms  in  religion,  and  parties  in  the  , 
State,  the  prejudices  of  his  education  prevailed  so  far  that  he  could  not  i 
forbear  taking  me  up  in  his  right  hand  ; and,  stroking  me  gently  with  i 
the  other,  after  a hearty  fit  of  laughing,  asked  me  whether  I were  a 
— Whig  or  a Tory.  Then,  turning  To'hfS  first  minister,  who  waited  behind 
him  with  a while  staff  nearly  as  tall  as  the  mainmast  of  the  Royal  So- 
vereign, he  observed  how  contemptible  a thing  was  human  grandeur, 
which  could  be  mimicked  by  such  diminutive  insects  as  I ; and  yet, 
said  he,  I dare  engage,  these  creaturelf^a??^^^  and  distinc- 

tions of  honour  ; they  contrive  little  nests  and  burrows,  that  they  call 
houses  and  cities  ; they  make  a figure  in  dress  and  equipage  ; they  love,  <: 
they  fight,  they  dispute,  they  cheat,  they  betray.  And  thus  he  con-  , 
tinued  on,  while  my  colour  came  and  went  several  times,  with  indigna- 
tion to  hear  our  noble  country,  the  mistress  of  arts  and  arms,  the  scourge  l 
of  France,  the  arbitress  of  Europe,  the  seat  of  virtue,  piety,  honour,  and 
truth,  the  pride  and  envy  of  the  world,  so  contemptuously  treated* 

But,  as  I was  not  in  a condition  to  resent  injuries,  so,  upon  mature 
thoughts,  I began  to'  doubt  whether  I was  injured  or  no.  For,  after 
having  been  accustomed  several  months  to  thie  sight  and  converse  of 
this  people,  and  observed  every  object  upon  which  I cast  mine  eyes,  to 
be  of  proportionable  magnitude,  the  horror  I had  first  conceived  from 
their  bulk  and  aspect  was  so  far  worn  off  that  if  I had  then  beheld  a 
company  of  English  lords  and  ladies  in  their  finery  ?nd  birthday  clothes, 
acting  their  several  parts  in  the  most  courtly  manner,  of  strutting  and 
bowing  and  prating,  to  say  the  truth  I should  have  been  strongly  tempted 
to  laugh  as  much  at  them  as  the  King  and  his  grandees  did  at  me* 


A VOYAGE  TO  BROBDINGNAG. 


61 


Neither  indeed  could  I forbear  smiling  at  myself,  when  the  Queen  used 
to  place  me  upon  her  hand  towards  a looking-glass,  by  which  both  our 
persons  appeared  before  me  in  full  view  together  ; and  there  could  no- 
thing be  more  ridiculous  than  the  comparison,  so  that  I really  began  to 
imagine  myself  dwindled  many  degrees  below  my  usual  size. 

Nothing  angered  and  mortified  me  so  much  as  the  Queen’s  dwarf, 
who,  being  of  the  lowest  stature  that  was  ever  in  that  country  (for  I 
verily  think  he  was  not  full  thirty  foot  high)  became  insolent  at 
seeing  a creature  so  much  beneath  him,  that  he  would  always  affect 
to  swagger  and  look  big  as  he  passed  by  me  in  the  Queen’s  ante- 
chamber, while  I was  standing  on  some  table  talking  with  the  lords  or 
ladies  of  the  court,  and  he  seldom  failed  of  a small  word  or  two  upon 
my  littleness  ; against  which  I could  only  revenge  myself  by  calling 
him  brother,  challenging  him  to  wrestle,  and  such  repartees  as  are 
usual  in  the  mouths  of  court  pages.  One  day,  at  dinner,  this  malicious 
little  cub  was  so  nettled  with  something  I had  said  to  him,  that,  raising 
himself  upon  the  frame  of  her  Majesty’s  chair,  he  took  me  up  by  the 
middle  as  I was  sitting  down,  not  thinking  any  harm,  and  let  me  drop 
into  a large  silver  bowl  of  cream,  and  then  ran  away  as  fast  as  he  could. 
I fell  over  head  and  ears,  and  if  I had  not  been  a good  swimmer,  it 
might  have  gone  very  hard  with  me,  for  Glumdalclitch,  in  that  instant, 
happened  to  be  at  the  other  end  of  the  room  ; and  the  Queen  was  in 
such  a fright  that  she  wanted  presence  of  mind  to  assist  me.  But  my 
little  nurse  ran  to  my  relief,  and  took  me  out  after  I had  swallowed 
above  a quart  of  cream.  I was  put  to  bed  ; however,  I received  no 
other  damage  than  the  loss  of  a suit  of  clothes,  which  was  utterly  spoiled. 
The  dwarf  was  soundly  whipped,  and,  as  a further  punishment,  forced 
to  drink  up  the  bowl  of  cream  into  which  he  had  thrown  me  ; neither 
was  he  ever  restored  to  favour;  for,  soon  after,  the  Queen  bestowed  him 
to  a lady  of  high  quality,  so  that  I saw  him  no  more,  to  my  very  great 
satisfaction  ; for  I could  not  tell  to  what  extremity  such  a malicious 
urchin  might  have  carried  his  resentment. 

He  had  before  served  me  a scurvy  trick,  which  set  the  Queen  a- 
laughing,  although,  at  the  same  time,  she  was  heartily  vexed,  and  would 
have  immediately  cashiered  him  if  I had  not  been  so  generous  as  to  inter- 
cede. Her  Majesty  had  taken  a marrow-bone  upon  her  plate,  and,  after 
knocking  out  the  marrow,  placed  the  bone  again  in  the  dish  erect  as  it 
stood  before  ; the  dwarf  watching  his  opportunity,  while  Glumdalclitch 
was  gone  to  the  sideboard,  mounted  upon  the  stool  she  stood  on  to  take 
care  of  me  at  meals,  took  me  up  in  both  hands,  and,  squeezing  my  legs 
together,  wedged  them  into  the  marrow-bone  above  my  waist,  where  I 
stuck  for  some  time,  and  made  a very  ridiculous  figure.  I believe  it 
was  near  a minute  before  any  one  knew  what  was  become  of  me,  for  I 
thought  it  below  me  to  cry  out.  But,  as  princes  seldom  get  their  meat 
hot,  my  legs  were  not  scalded,  only  my  stockings  and  breeches  in  a sad 
condition.  The  dwarf,  at  my  entreaty,  had  no  other  punishment  than 
a sound  whipping. 

I was  frequently  rallied  by  the  Queen  upon  account  of  my  fearful- 
ness, and  she  used  to  ask  me  whether  the  people  of  my  country  were  as 
great  cowards  as  myself  ? The  occasion  was  this  : the  kingdom  is  much 
pestered  with  flies  in  summer  ; and  these  odious  insects,  each  of  them 


62 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


as  big  as  a Dunstable  lark,  hardly  gave  me  any  rest  while  I sat  at  din- 
ner, with  their  continual  humming  and  buzzing  about  mine  ears.  They 
would  sometimes  alight  upon  my  victuals,  and  leave  their  loathsome 
excrement  or  spawn  behind,  which  to  me  was  very  visible,  though  not 
to  the  natives  of  that  country,  whose  large  optics  were  not  so  acute  as 
mine  in  viewing  smaller  objects.  Sometimes  they  would  fix  upon  my 
nose  or  forehead,  where  they  stung  me  to  the  quick,  smelling  very  offen- 
sively, and  I could  easily  trace  that  viscous  matter,  which  our  natural- 
ists tell  us  enables  those  creatures  to  walk  with  their  feet  upwards  upon 
a ceiling.  I had  much  ado  to  defend  myself  against  these  detestable 
animals,  and  could  not  forbear  starting  when  they  came  on  my  face. 

It  was  the  common  practice  of  the  dwarf  to  catch  a number  of  these 
insects  in  his  hand,  as  schoolboys  do  among  us,  and  let  them  out  sud- 
denly under  my  nose  on  purpose  to  frighten  me,  and  divert  the  queen. 
My  remedy  was  to  cut  them  in  pieces  with  my  knife  as  they  flew  in  the 
air,  wherein  my  dexterity  was  much  admired. 

I remember  one  morning  when  Glumdalclitch  had  set  me  in  my  box 
upon  a window,  as  she  usually  did  in  fair  days  togive  me  air  (for  I durst 
not  venture  to  let  the  box  be  hung  on  a nail  out  of  the  window,  as  we  do 
with  cages  in  England)  after  I had  lifted  up  one  of  my  sashes,  and  sat 
down  at  my  table  to  eat  a piece  of  sweet  cake  for  my  breakfast,  above 
twenty  wasps,  allured  by  the  smell,  came  flying  into  the  room,  humming 
louder  than  the  drones  of  as  many  bagpipes.  Some  of  them  seized  my 
cake,  and  carried  it  piecemeal  away,o  thers  flew  about  my  head  and  , 
face,  confounding  me  with  the  noise,  and  putting  me  in  the  utmost  terror 
of  their  stings.  However  I had  the  courage  to  rise  and  draw  my  hanger, 
and  attack  them  in  the  air.  I dispatched  four  of  them,  but  the  rest  got 
away,  and  I presently  shut  my  window.  These  creatures  were  as  large  as  j 
partridges,  I took  out  their  stings,  found  them  an  inch  and  a half  long, 
and  as  sharp  as  needle's.  I carefully  preserved  them  all,  and  having 
since  shown  them  with  some  other  curiosities  in  several  parts  of  Europe  ; 
upon  my  return  to  England  I gave  three  of  them  to  Gresham  College, 
and  kept  the  fourth  for  myself.  " ’ 

CHAPTER  IV. 

The  country  described.  A proposal  for  correcting  modern  maps.  The  King’s 
Palace,  and  some  account  of  the  metropolis.  The  author’s  way  of  travelling. 
The  chief  temple  described. 

IN O W intend  to  give  the  Reader  a short  description  of  this  country, 
as  far  as  I tiavelled  in  it,  which  was  not  above  two  thousand  miles 
round  Lorbrulgrud  the  metropolis.  For,  the  Queen,  whom  I always 
attended,  never  went  farther  when  she  accompanied  the  King  in  his 
progresses,  and  there  stayed  till  his  Majesty  returned  from  viewing  his 
frontiers.  The  whole  extent  of  this  Prince’s  dominions  reacheth  about 
six  thousand  miles  in  length,  and  from  three  to  five  in  breadth.  From 
whence  I cannot  but  conclude  that  our  geographers  of  Europe  are  in  a 
great  error,  by  supposing  nothing  but  sea  between  Japan  and  California; 
for  it  was  ever  my  opinion,  that  there  must  be  a balance  of  earth  to 
counterpoise  the  great  continent  of  Tartary  ; and  therefore  they  ought 
to  correct  their  maps  and  charts,  by  joining  this  vast  tract  of  land  to  the 


A VOYAGE  TO  BROBDINGXA <7.  63 

North-west  parts  of  America,  wherein  I shall  be  ready  to  lend  them  my 
assistance. 

The  kingdom  is  a peninsula,  terminated  to  the  north-east  by  a ridge 
of  mountains  thirty  miles  high,  which  are  altogether  impassable  by  rea- 
son of  the  volcanoes  upon  the  tops.  Neither  do  the  most  learned  know 
what  sort  of  mortals  inhabit  beyond  those  mountains,  or  whether  they 
be  inhabited  at  all.  On  the  three  other  sides  it  is  bounded  by  the  ocean. 
There  is  not  one  seaport  in  the  whole  kingdom,  and  those  parts  of  the 
coasts  into  which  the  rivers  issue  are  so  full  of  pointed  rocks,  and  the 
sea  generally  so  rough,  that  there  is  no  venturing  with  the  smallest  of 
their  boats,  so  that  these  people  are  wholly  excluded  from  any  commerce 
with  the  rest  of  the  world.  But  the  large  rivers  are  full  of  vessels,  and 
abound  with  excellent  fish,  for  they  seldom  get  any  from  the  sea,  be- 
cause the  sea-fish  are  of  the  same  size  with  those  in  Europe,  and  con- 
sequently not  worth  catching  : whereby  it  is  manifest,  that  nature  in 
the  production  of  plants  and  animals  of  so  extraordinary  a bulk  is  wholly 
confined  to  this  continent,  of  which  I leave  the  reasons  to  be  determined 
by  philosophers.  However,  now  and  then  they  take  a whale  that  hap- 
pens to  be  dashed  against  the  rocks,  which  the  common  people  feed  on 
heartily.  These  whales  I have  known  so  large  that  a man  could  hardly 
carry  one  upon  his  shoulders  ; and  sometimes  for  curiosity  they  are 
brought  in  hampers  to  Lorbrulgrud  : I saw  one  of  them  in  a dish  at 
the  king’s  table,  which  passed  for  a rarity,  but  I did  not  observe  he 
was  fond  of  it  ; for  I think  indeed  the  bigness  disgusted  him,  although 
I have  seen  one  somewhat  larger  in  Greenland. 

The  country  is  well  inhabited,  for  it  contains  fifty-one  cities,  near  a 
hundred  walled  towns,  and  a great  number  of  villages.  To  satisfy  my 
curious  reader,  it  may  be  sufficient  to  describe  Lorbrulgrud.  This  city 
stands  upon  almost  two  equal  parts  on  each  side  the  river  that  passes 
through.  It  contains  above  eighty  thousand  houses,  and  about  six 
hundred  thousand  inhabitants.  It  is  in  length  three  glonglungs  (which 
make  about  fifty-four  English  miles)  and  two  and  a half  in  breadth,  as 
I measured  it  myself  in  the  royal  map  made  by  the  king’s  order, 
which  was  laid  on  the  ground  on  purpose  for  me,  and  extended  an 
hundred  feet  ; I paced  the  diameter  and  circumference  several  times 
barefoot,  and  computing  by  the  scale,  measured  it  pretty  exactly. 

The  king’s  palace  is  no  regular  edifice,  but  an  heap  of  buildings  about 
seven  miles  round  : the  chief  rooms  are  generally  two  hundred  and 
forty  foot  high,  and  broad  and  long  in  proportion.  A coach  was 
allowed  to  Glumdalclitch  and  me,  wherein  her  governess  frequently 
took  her  out  to  see  the  town,  or  go  among  the  shops ; and  I was  always 
of  the  party,  carried  in  my  box  ; although  the  girl  at  my  own  desire 
would  often  take  me  out,  and  hold  me  in  her  hand,  that  I might  more 
conveniently  view  the  houses  and  the  people,  as  we  passed  along  the 
streets.  I reckoned  our  coach  to  be  about  a square  of  Westminster 
Hall,  but  not  altogether  so  high,  however.  I cannot  be  very  exact. 
One  day  the  governess  ordered  our  coachman  to  stop  at  several  shops, 
where  the  beggars  watching  their  opportunity,  crowded  to  the  sides  of 
the  coach,  and  gave  me  the  most  horrible  spectacles  that  ever  an 
English  eye  beheld.  There  was  a woman  with  a cancer  in  her  breast, 
swelled  to  a monstrous  size,  full  of  holes,  in  two  or  three  of  which  I 


64 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


could  have  easily  crept,  and  covered  my  whole  body.  There  was  a 
fellow  with  a wen  in  his  neck,  larger  than  five  woolpacks,  and  another 
with  a couple  of  wooden  legs,  each  about  twenty  foot  high.  But  the 
most  hateful  sight  of  all  was  the  lice  crawling  on  their  clothes.  I could 
see  distinctly  the  limbs  of  these  vermin  with  my  naked  eye,  much 
better  than  those  of  an  European  louse  through  a microscope,  and 
their  snouts  with  which  they  rooted  like  swine.  They  were  the  first  I 
had  ever  beheld,  and  I should  have  been  curious  enough  to  dissect  one 
of  them,  if  I had  proper  instruments  (which  I unluckily  left  behind  me 
in  the  ship)  although  indeed  the  sight  was  so  nauseous  that  it  perfectly 
turned  my  stomach. 

Beside  the  large  box  in  which  I was  usually  carried,  the  queen 
ordered  a smaller  one  to  be  made  for  me,  of  about  twelve  foot  square, 
and  ten  high,  for  the  convenience  of  travelling,  because  the  other  was 
somewhat  too  large  for  Glumdalclitch’s  lap,  and  cumbersome  in  the 
coach  ; it  was  made  by  the  same  artist,  whom  I directed  in  the  whole 
contrivance.  This  travelling  closet  was  an  exact  square  with  a window 
in  the  middle  of  three  of  the  squares,  and  each  window  was  latticed 
with  iron  wire  on  the  outside,  to  prevent  accidents  in  long  journeys. 
On  the  fourth  side,  which  had  no  window,  two  strong  staples  were 
fixed,  through  which  the  person  that  carried  me,  when  I had  a mind 
to  be  on  horseback,  put  in  a leathern  belt,  and  buckled  it  about  his 
waist.  This  was  always  the  office  of  some  grave  trusty  servant  in 
whom  I could  confide,  whether  I attended  the  king  and  queen  in 
their  progresses,  or  were  disposed  to  see  the  gardens,  or  pay  a visit  to  : 
some  great  lady  or  minister  of  state  in  the  court,  when  Glumda’ ditch 
happened  to  be  out  of  order  : for  I soon  began  to  be  known  and 
esteemed  among  the  greatest  officers,  I suppose  more  upon  account  of 
their  majesties’  favour  than  any  merit  of  my  own.  In  journeys,  when  I 
was  weary  of  the  coach,  a servant  on  horseback  would  buckle  my  box, 
and  place  it  on  a cushion  before  him  ; and  there  I had  a full  prospect 
of  the  country  on  three  sides  from  my  three  windows.  I had  in  this 
closet  a field-bed  and  a hammock  hung  from  the  ceiling,  two  chairs 
and  a table,  neatly  screwed  to  the  floor,  to  prevent  being  tossed  about  . 
by  the  agitation  of  the  horse  or  the  coach.  And  having  been  long  used 
to  sea  voyages,  those  motions,  although  sometimes  very  violent,  did  not 
much  discompose  me. 

Whenever  1 had  a mind  to  see  the  town,  it  was  always  in  my  travel-  ■ 
ling-closet,  which  Glumdal ditch  held  in  her  lap  in  a kind  of  open 
sedan,  after  the  fashion  of  the  country,  borne  by  four  men,  and  attended 
by  two  others  in  the  queen’s  livery.  The  people,  who  had  often  heard 
of  me,  were  very  curious  to  crowd  about  the  sedan,  and  the  girl  was 
complaisant  enough  to  make  the  bearers  stop,  and  to  take  me  in  her 
band  that  I might  be  more  conveniently  seen. 

I was  very  desirous  to  see  the  chief  temple,  and  particularly  the  tower 
belonging  to  it,  which  is  reckoned  the  highest  in  the  kingdom.  Ac- 
cordingly one  day  my  nurse  carried  me  thither,  but  I may  truly  say  I 
came  back  disappointed  ; for,  the  height  is  not  above  three  thousand  I 
foot,  and  reckoning  from  the  ground  to  the  highest  pinnacle  top  ; 
which  allowing  for  the  difference  between  the  size  of  those  people,  and  j 
us  in  Europe,  is  no  great  matter  for  admiration,  nor  at  all  equal  in  j 


A VOYAGE  TO  BROBD1NGNAG. 


*5 

proportion  (if  I rightly  remember)  to  Salisbury  steeple.  But,  not  to 
detract  from  a nation  to  which  during  my  life  I shall  acknowledge 
mysefT  extremely  obliged,  it  must  be  allowed  that  whatever  this  famous 
tower  wants  in  height  is  amply  made  up  in  beauty  and  strength.  For 
the  walls  are  near  an  hundred  foot  thick,  built  of  hewn  stone,  whereof 
each  is  about  forty  foot  square,  and  adorned  on  all  sides  with  statues 
of  Gods  and  Emperors  cut  in  marble  larger  than  the  life,  placed  in  their 
several  niches.  I measured  a little  finger  which  had  fallen  down  irom 
one  of  these  statues,  and  lay  unperceived  among  some  rubbish,  and 
found  it  exactly  four  foot  and  an  inch  in  length.  Glumdalclitch  wrapped 
it  up  in  an  handkerchief,  and  carried  it  home  in  her  pocket  to  keep 
among  other  trinkets,  of  which  the  girl  was  very  fond,  as  children  at  her 
age  usually  are. 

The  King’s  kitchen  is  indeed  a noble  building,  vaulted  at  top,  and 
about  six  hundred  foot  high.  The  great  oven  is  not  so  wide  by  ten 
paces  as  the  cupola  at  St.  Paul’s  ; for  I measured  the  latter  on  purpose 
after  my  return.  But  if  I should  describe  the  kitchen-grate,  the  prodi- 
gious pi«ts  and  kettles,  the  joints  of  meat  turning  on  the  spits,  with 
many  other  particulars,  perhaps  I should  be  hardly  believed  ; at  least, 
a severe  critic  would  be  apt  to  think  I enlarged  a little,  as  travellers  are 
often  suspected  to  do.  To  avoid  which  censure  I fear  I have  run  too 
much  into  the  other  extreme  ; and  that  if  this  treatise  should  happen  to 
be  translated  into  the  language  of  Brobdingnag  (which  is  the  general 
name  of  that  kingdom)  and  transmitted  thither,  the  King  and  his  people 
would  have  reason  to  complain  that  I had  done  them  an  injury  by  a 
false  and  diminutive  representation. 

His  Majesty  seldom  keeps  above  six  hundred  horses  in  his  stables  ; 
they  are  generally  from  fifty-four  to  sixty  foot  high.  But  when  he  goes 
abroad  on  solemn  days,  he  is  attended  for  State  by  a militia  guard  of 
five  hundred  horse,  which  indeed  I thought  was  the  most  splendid 
sight  that  could  be  ever  beheld,  till  I saw  part  of  his  army  in  battalia, 
whereof  I shall  find  another  occasion  to  speak. 

CHAPTER  V. 

Several  adventures  that  happened  to  the  author.  The  execution  of  a criminal. 

The  author  shows  his  skill  in  navigation. 

I SHOULD  have  lived  happy  enough  in  that  country  if  my  littleness 
had  not  exposed  me  to  several  ridiculous  and  troublesome  acci- 
dents, some  of  which  I shall  venture  to  relate.  Glumdalclitch  often 
carried  me  into  the  gardens  of  the  court  in  my  smaller  box,  and  would 
sometimes  take  me  out  of  it  and  hold  me  in  her  nand,  or  set  me  down 
to  walk.  I remember,  before  the  dwarf  left  the  Queen,  he  followed  us 
on'e  day  into  those  gardens,  and  my  nurse  having  set  me  down,  he 
and  I being  close  together,  near  some  dwarf  apple  trees,  I must  needs 
shew  my  wit  by  a silly  allusion  between  him  and  the  trees,  which 
happens  to  hold  in  their  language  as  it  doth  in  ours.  Whereupon,  the 
malicious  rogue  watching  his  opportunity  when  I v/as  walking  under 
one  of  them  shook  it  directly  over  my  head,  by  which  a dozen  apples, 
each  of  them  near  as  large  as  a Bristol  barrel,  came  tumbling  about 
mv  ears  ; one  of  them  hit  me  on  the  back  as  I chanced  to  stoop,  and 


66 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


knocked  me  down  flat  on  my  face,  but  I received  no  other  hurt,  and 
the  dwarf  was  pardoned  at  my  desire,  because  I had  given  the  provoca- 
tion. m 

Another  day  Glumdalclitch  left  me  on  a smooth  grass-plot  to  divert 
myself  while  she  walked  at  some  distance  with  her  governess.  In  the 
meantime  there  suddenly  fell  such  a violent  shower  of  hail  that  I was 
immediately,  by  the  force  of  it,  struck  to  the  ground  ; and,  when  I was 
down,  the  hailstones  gave  me  such  cruel  bangs  all  over  the  body,  as  if 
I had  been  pelted  with  tennis  balls  ; however,  I made  a shift  to  creep 
on  all  four,  and  shelter  myself  by  lying  flat  on  my  face  on  the#lee-side 
of  a border  of  lemon  thyme,  but  so  bruised  from  head  to  foot  that  I 
could  not  go  abroad  in  ten  days.  Neither  is  this  at  all  to  be  wondered 
at,  because  nature  in  that  country  observing  the  same  proportion  through 
all  her  operations,  a hailstone  is  near  eighteen  hundred  times  as  large 
as  one  in  Europe,  which  I can  assert  upon  experience,  having  been  so 
curious  to  weigh  and  measure  them. 

But  a more  dangerous  accident  happened  to  me  in  the  same  garden, 
when  my  little  nurse  believing  she  had  put  me  in  a secure  place, 
which  I often  entreated  her  to  do,  that  I might  enjoy  my  own  thoughts, 
and  having  left  my  box  at  home  to  avoid  the  trouble  of  carrying  it, 
went  to  another  part  of  the  gardens  with  her  governess  and  some  ladies 
of  her  acquaintance.  While  she  was  absent  and  out  of  hearing,  a small 
white  spaniel,  belonging  to  one  of  the  chief  gardeners,  having  got  by 
accident  into  the  garden,  happened  to  range  near  the  place  where  I 
lay  : the  dog,  following  the  scent,  came  directly  up,  and  taking  me  in 
his  mouth  ran  straight  to  his  master,  wagging  his  tail,  and  set  me 
gently  on  the  ground.  By  good  fortune  he  had  been  so  well  taught 
that  I was  carried  between  his  teeth  without  the  least  hurt  or  even 
tearing  my  clothes.  But  the  poor  gardener,  who  knew  me  well,  and 
had  a great  kindness  for  me,  was  in  a terrible  fright ; he  gently  took 
me  up  in  both  his  hands,  and  asked  me  how  I did  ; but  I was  so 
amazed  and  out  of  breath  that  I could  not  speak  a word.  In  a few 
minutes  I came  to  myself,  and  he  carried  me  safe  to  my  little  nurse, 
who  by  this  time  had  returned  to  the  place  where  she  left  me,  and  was 
in  cruel  agonies  when  I did  not  appear,  nor  answer  when  she  called. 

She  severely  reprimanded  the  gardener  on  account  of  his  dog.  But 
the  thing  was  hushed-  up,  and  never  known  at  Court ; for  the  girl  was 
afraid,  of  the  Queen’s  anger,  and  truly  as  to  myself,  I thought  it  would 
not  be  for  my  reputation  that  such  a story  should  go  about. 

This  accident  absolutely  determined  Glumdalclitch  never  to  trust  me 
abroad  for  the  future  out  of  her  sight.  I had  been  long  afraid  of  this 
resolution,  and  therefore  concealed  from  her  some  little  unlucky  adven- 
tures that  happened  in  those  times  when  I was  left  by  myself.  Once  a 
kite  hovering  over  the  garden  made  a stoop  at  me,  and  if  I had  not  [ 
resolutely  drawn  my  hanger,  and  run  under  a thick  espalier,  he  would 
have  certainly  carried  me  away  in  his  talons.  Another  time  walking 
to  the  top  of  a fresh  molehill,  I fell  to  my  neck  in  the  hole,  through 
which  that  animal  had  cast  up  the  earth,  and  coined  *ome  lie,  not  worth 
remembering,  to  excuse  myself  for  spoiling  my  clothes.  I likewise 
broke  my  right  shin  against  the  shell  of  a snail,  which  I happened  to 
stumble  over  as  I was  walking  alone,  and  thinking  on  poor  England, 


A VOYAGE  70  BR0BD7NGAAG. 


67 

I cannot  tell  whether  I were  more  pleased  or  mortified,  to  observe  in 
those  solitary  works  that  the  smaller  birds  did  not  appear  to  oe  at  all 
afraid  of  me,  but  would  hop  about  within  a yard  distance,  looking  for 
worms  and  other  food  with  as  much  indifference  and  security  as  if  no 
creature  at  all  were  near  them.  I remember  a thrush  had  the  conti- 
dence  to  snatch  out  of  my  hand  with  his  bill  a piece  of  cake  that  Glum- 
dalclitch  had  just  given  me  for  my  breakfast.  When  I attempted  to 
catch  any  of  these  birds  they  would  boldly  turn  against  me,  endeavour- 
ing to  pick  my  fingers,  wnich  I durst  not  venture  within  their  reach  ; 
and  then  they  would  turn  back  unconcerned  to  hunt  for  worms  or  snails, 
as  they  did  oefore.  But  one  day  I took  a thick  cudgel,  and  threw  it 
with  all  my  strength  so  luckily  at  a linnet  that  I knocked  him  down, 
and  seizing  him  by  the  neck  with  both  my  hands,  ran  with  him  in 
triumph  to  my  nurse.  However,  the  bird,  wno  had  only  been  stunned, 
recovering  himself,  gave  me  so  many  boxes  with  his  wings  on  both 
sides  of  my  head  ana  body,  though  I held  him  at  arm’s  length,  and  was 
out  of  the  reach  of  his  claws,  that  I was  twenty  times  thinking  to  let 
him  go.  But  I was  soon  relieved  by  one  of  our  servants,  who  wrung 
off  the  bird’s  neck,  and  I had  him  next  day  for  dinner  by  the  Queen’s 
command.  This  linnet,  as  near  as  I can  remem oer,  seemed  to  be 
somewhat  larger  than  an  English  swan. 

The  maids  of  honour  often  invited  Glumdalclitch  to  their  apartments, 
and  desired  she  would  bring  me  along  with  ner,  on  purpose  to  have 
the  pleasure  of  seeing  and  touching  me.  They  would  often  strip  me 
naked  from  top  to  toe,  and  lay  me  at  full  length  in  their  bosoms  ; 
wherewith  I was  much  disgusted,  because,  to  say  the  truth,  a very 
offensive  smell  came  from  their  skins,  whicn  I do  not  mention  or  intend 
to  the  disadvantage  of  those  excellent  ladies,  for  whom  I have  all 
manner  of  respect ; but  I conceive  that  my  sense  was  more  acute  in 
proportion  to  my  littleness,  and  that  those  illustrious  persons  were  no 
more  disagreeable  to  their  lovers  or  to  each  other,  than  people  of  the 
same  quality  are  with  us  in  England.  And,  after  all,  I found  their 
natural  smell  was  much  more  supportable  than  when  they  used  per- 
fumes, under  which  I immediately  swooned  away.  I cannot  forget 
that  an  intimate  friend  of  mine  in  Lilliput  took  the  freedom  in  a warm 
day,  when  I had  used  a good  deal  of  exercise,  to  complain  of  a strong 
smell  about  me,  althougn  I am  as  little  faulty  that  way  as  most  of  my 
sex ; but  I suppose  his  faculty  of  smelling  was  as  nice  with  regard  to 
me  as  mine  was  to  that  of  this  people.  Upon  this  point  I cannot  for- 
bear doing  justice  to  the  Queen,  my  mistress,  and  Glumdalclitch,  my 
nurse,  whose  persons  were  as  sweet  as  those  of  any  lady  in  England. 

That  which  gave  me  mostuneasiness  among  these  maids  of  honourwhen 
my  nurse  carried  me  to  visit  them,  was  to  see  them  use  me  without  any 
manner  of  ceremony,  like  a creature  who  had  no  sort  of  consequence. 
For  they  would  strip  themselves  to  the  skin,  and  put  on  their  smocks 
• in  my  presence  while  I was  placed  on  their  toilet  directly  before  their 
naked  bodies,  which,  I am  sure,  to  me  was  very  far  from  being  a 
tempting  sight,  or  from  giving  me  any  other  emotions  than  those  of 
horror  and  disgust.  Their  skins  appeared  so  coarse  and  uneven,  so 
variously  coloured  when  I saw  them  near,  with  a mole  here  and  there 
as  broad  as  a trencher,  and  hairs  hanging  from  it  thicker  than  pack* 

5—2 


63 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


threads,  to  say  nothing  further  concerning  the  rest  of  their  persons 
Neither  did  the)'  at  all  scruple  while  l was  by  to  discharge  what  they 
had  drunk,  to  the  quantity  of  at  least  two  hogsheads,  in  a vessel  that 
held  above  three  tuns.  The  handsomest  among  these  maids  of  honour, 
a pleasant,  frolicsome  girl  of  sixteen,  would  sometimes  set  me  astride 
upon  one  of  her  nipples,  with  many  other  tricks,  wherein  the  reader  will 
excuse  me  for  not  being  overparticular.  But  I was  so  much  displeased 
that  I entreated  Glumdalclitch  to  contrive  some  excuse  for  not  seeing 
that  young  lady  any  more. 

One  day  a young  gentleman,  who  was  nephew  to  my  nurse’s  gover- 
ness, came  and  pressed  them  both  to  see  an  execution.  It  was  of  a 
man  who  had  murdered  one  of  that  gentleman’s  intimate  acquaintance. 
Glumdalclitch  was  prevailed  on  to  be  of  the  company  very  much  against 
her  inclination,  for  she  was  naturally  tender-hearted  ; and,  as  for  myself, 
although  I abhorred  such  kind  of  spectacles,  yet  my  curiosity  tempted 
me  to  see  something  that  I thought  must  be  extraordinary. « The  male- 
factor was  fixed  in  a chair  upon  a scaffold  erected  for  the  purpose,  and 
his  head  cut  off  at  a blow  with  a sword  of  about  forty  foot  long.  The 
veins  and  arteries  spouted  up  such  a prodigious  quantity  jaf  blood,  and 
so  high  in  the  air  that  the  great  jet  d’eau  at  Versailles  was  not  equal, 
for  the  time  it  lasted  ; and  the  head,  when  it  fell  on  the  scaffold-floor, 
gave  such  a bounce  as  made  me  start,  although  I were  at  least  half  an 
English  mile  distant.  ; 

The  Queen,  who  often  used  to  hear  me  talk  of  my  sea-voyages,  and 
took  all  occasions  to  divert  me  when  I was  melancholy,  asked  me 
whether  I understood  how  to  handle  a sail,  or  an  oar,  and  whether 
a little  exercise  of  rowing  might  not  be  convenient  for  my  .health.  I 
answered  that  I understood  both  very  well ; for,  although  my  proper  • 
employment  had  been  to  be  surgeon  or  doctor  to  the  ship,  yet  often,  ,1 
upon  a pinch,  I was  forced  to  work  like  a common  mariner.  But  I 
could  not  see  how  this  could  be  done  in  their  country,  where  the 
smallest  wherry  was  equal  to  a first  rate  man  of  war  among  us,  and 
such  a boat  as  I could  manage  would  never  live  in  any  of  their  rivers. 

Her  Majesty  said  if  I would  contrive  a boat,  her  own  joiner  should 
make  it,  and  she  would  provide  a place  for  me  to  sail  in.  The  fellow 
was  an  ingenious  workman,  and,  by  my  instructions,  in  ten  days  finished 
a pleasure  boat  with  all  its  tackling,  able  conveniently  to  hold  eight 
Europeans.  When  it  was  finished,  the  Queen  was  so  delighted  that  ' 
she  ran  with  it  in  her  lap  to  the  King,  who  ordered  it  to  be  put  in  a 
cistern  full  of  water  with  me  in  it  by  way  of  trial  ; where  I could  not  > 

manage  my  two  sculls  or  little  oars  for  want  of  room.  But  the  Queen 
had  before  contrived  another  project.  She  ordered  the  joiner  to  make 
a wcoden  trough  of  three  hundred  foot  long,  fifty  broad,  and  eight  deep, 
which,  being  well  pitched  to  prevent  leaking,  was  placed  on  the  floor 
along  the  wall  in  an  outer  room  of  the  palace.  It  had  a cock  near  the 
bottom  to  let  out  the  water  when  it  began  to  grow  stale,  and  two  • 
servants  could  easily  fill  it  in  half  an  hour.  Here  I often  used  to  row 
for  my  own  diversion  as  well  as  that  of  the  Queen  and  her  ladies,  who 
thought  themselves  well  entertained  with  my  skill  and  agility.  Some- 
times I would  put  up  my  sail,  and  then  my  business  was  only  to  steer, 
while  the  ladies  gave  me  a gale  with  their  tans ; and  when  they  were 


A VOYAGE  TO  BROBDINGNA  G. 


69 

weary,  some  of  the  pages  would  blow  my  sail  forward  with  their  breath, 
while  I showed  my  art  by  steering  starboard  or  larboard,  as  I pleased 
When  I had  done,  Glumdalclitch  always  carried  back  my  boat  into  ner 
closet,  and  hung  it  on  a nail  to  dry. 

In  this  exercise  I once  met  an  accident  which  had  like  to  have  cost 
me  my  life  ; for,  one  of  the  pages  having  put  my  boat  into  the  trough, 
the  governess  who  attended  Glumdalclitch  very  officiously  lifted  me  up 
to  place  me  in  the  boat,  but  I happened  to  slip  through  her  fingers,  and 
should  have  infallibly  fallen  down  forty  foot  upon  the  floor,  if  by  the 
luckiest  chance  in  the  world  I had  not  been  stopped  by  a corking-pin 
that  stuck  in  the  good  gentlewoman’s  stomacher  ; the  head  of  the  pin 
passed  between  my  shirt  and  the  waist-band  of  my  breeches,  and  thus 
I was  held  by  the  middle  in  the  air  till  Glumdalclitch  ran  to  my  relief. 

Another  time  one  of  the  servants,  whose  office  it  was  to  fill  my  trough 
every  third  day  with  fresh  water,  was  so  careless  to  let  a huge  frog  (not 
perceiving  it,)  slip  out  of  his  pail.  The  frog  lay  concealed  till  I was  put 
into  my  boat,  but  then,  seeing  a resting  place,  climbed  up,  and  made 
it  lean  so  much  on  one  side  that  I was  forced  to  balance  it  with  all  my 
weight  on  the  other  to  prevent  overturning.  When  the  frog  was  got 
in,  it  hopped  at  once  half  the  length  of  the  boat,  and  then  over  my  head 
backwards  and  forwards,  daubing  my  face  and  clothes  with  its  odious 
slime.  The  largeness  of  its  features  made  it  appear  the  most  deformed 
animal  that  can  be  conceived.  However,  I desired  Glumdalclitch  to 
let  me  deal  with  it  alone.  I banged  it  a good  while  with  one  of  my 
sculls,  and  at  last  forced  it  to  leap  out  of  the  boat. 

But  the  greatest  danger  I ever  underwent  in  that  kingdom,  was  from 
a monkey,  who  belonged  to  one  of  the  clerks  of  the  kitchen.  Glum- 
dalclitch had  locked  me  up  in  her  closet  while  she  went  somewhere  upon 
business  or  a visit.  The  weather  being  very  warm,  the  closet-window 
was  left  open,  as  well  as  the  windows  and  the  door  of  my  bigger  box, 
in  which  I usually  lived  because  of  its  largeness  and  conveniency.  As 
1 sat  quietly  meditating  at  my  table,  I heard  something  bounce  in  at 
the  closet-window, and  skip  about  from  one  side  to  the  other;  whereat, 
although  I were  much  alarmed,  yet  I ventured  to  look  out,  but  not 
stirring  from  my  seat  ; and  then  I saw  this  frolicsome  animal  frisking 
and  leaping  up  and  down,  till  at  last  he  came  to  my  box,  which  he 
seemed  to  view  with  great  pleasure  and  curiosity,  peeping  in  at  the 
door  and  every  window.  I retreated  to  the  farther  corner  of  my  room 
or  box,  but  the  monkey  looking  in  at  every  side  put  me  into  such  a 
fright  that  I wanted  presence  of  mind  to  conceal  myself  under  the  bed, 
as  I might  easily  have  done.  After  some  time  spent  in  peeping,  grin- 
ning, and  chattering,  he  at  last  espied  me,  and  reaching  one  of  his 
paws  in  at  the  door  as  a cat  does  when  she  plays  with  a mouse,  although 
I often  shifted  place  to  avoid  him,  he  at  length  caught  hold  ot  tee 
lappet  of  my  coat  (which  being  made  of  that  country  cloth  was  very 
thick  and  strong),  and  dragged  me  out.  He  took  me  up  in  his  right 
fore-foot,  and  held  me  as  a nurse  does  a child  she  is  going  to  suckle, 
just  as  I have  seen  the  same  sort  of  creature  do  with  a kitten  in  Europe  ; 
and  when  I offered  to  struggle  he  squeezed  me  so  hard  that  I thought 
it  more  prudent  to  submit.  I have  good  reason  to  believe  that  he  took 
me  for  a young  one  of  his  own  species,  by  his  often  stroking  my  face 


70 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS 


very  gently  with  his  other  paw.  In  these  diversions  he  was  interrupted  by 
a noise  at  the  closet  door,  as  if  somebody  were  opening  it,  whereupon 
he  suddenly  leaped  up  to  the  window,  at  which  he  had  come  in,  and 
thence  upon  the  leads  and  gutters,  walking  upon  three  legs,  and  holding 
me  in  the  fourth,  till  he  clambered  up  to  a roof  that  was  next  to  ours. 

I heard  Glumdalclitch  give  a shriek  at  the  moment  he  was  carrying  me 
out.  The  poor  girl  was  almost  distracted  : that  quarter  of  the  palace 
was  all  in  an  uproar  ; the  servants  ran  for  ladders  ; the  monkev  was 
seen  by  hundreds  in  the  court,  sitting  upon  the  ridge  of  a building, 
holding  me  like  a baby  in  one  of  his  forepaws,  and  feeding  me  with  the 
other,  by  cramming  into  my  mouth  some  victuals  he  had  squeezed  out 
of  the  bag  on  one  side  of  his  chaps,  and  patting  me  when  I would  not 
eat  ; whereat  many  of  the  rabble  below  could  not  forbear  laughing  ; 
neither  do  I think  they  justly  ought  to  be  blamed,  for  without  question 
the  sight  was  ridiculous  enough  to  everybody  but  myself.  Some  of  the 
people  threw  up  stones,  hoping  to  drive  the  monkey  down  ; but  this 
was  strictly  forbidden,  or  else  very  probably  my  brains  had  been  dashed 
cut. 

The  ladders  were  now  applied,  and  mounted  by  several  men,  which 
the  monkey  observing,  and  finding  himself  almost  encompassed  ; not 
being  able  to  make  speed  enough  with  his  three  legs,  let  me  drop  on  a 
ridge-tile,  and  made  his  escape.  Here  I sat  for  some  time,  three  hun- 
dred yards  from  the  ground,  expecting  every  moment  to  be  blown  down 
by  the  wind,  or  to  fall  by  my  own  giddiness,  and  come  tumbling  over 
and  over  from  the  ridge  to  the  eaves  ; but  an  honest  lad,  one  of  my  , 
nurse’s  footmen,  climbed  up,  and,  putting  me  into  his  breeches-pocket, 
brought  me  down  safe. 

I was  almost  choked  with  the  filthy  stuff  the  monkey  had  crammed  j 
down  my  throat ; but  my  dear  little  nurse  picked  it  out  of  my  mouth  , 
with  a small  needle,  and  then  I fell  a vomiting,  which  gave  me  great 
relief.  Yet  I was  so  weak  and  bruised  in  the  sides  with  the  squeezes 
given  me  by  this  odious  animal,  that  I was  forced  to  keep  my  bed  a 
fortnight.  The  King,  Queen,  and  all  the  court,  sent  every  day  to  in- 
quire after  my  health,  and  her  Majesty  made  me  several  visits  during 
my  sickness.  The  monkey  was  killed,  and  an  order  made  that  no  such 
animal  should  be  kept  about  the  palace. 

When  I attended  the  King  after  my  recovery  to  return  him  thanks 
for  his  favours,  he  was  pleased  to  rally  me  a good  deal  upon  this  ad* 
venture.  He  asked  me  what  my  thoughts  and  specuJations  were  while 
I lay  in  the  monkey’s  paw  ; how  I liked  the  victuals  he  gave  me  ; ; 

his  manner  of  feeding  ; and  whether  the  fresh  air  on  the  roof  had 
sharpened  my  stomach.  He  desired  to  know  what  I would  have  done 
upon  such  an  occasion  in  my  own  country.  I told  his  Majesty  that  in 
Europe  we  had  no  monkeys,  except  such  as  were  brought  for  curiosities 
from  other  places,  and  so  small  that  I could  deal  with  a dozen  of  them 
together  if  they  presumed  to  attack  me.  And  as  for  that  monstrous 
animal  with  whom  I was  so  lately  engaged  (it  was  indeed  as  large  as  an 
elephant),  if  my  fears  had  suffered  me  to  think  so  far  as  to  make  use  of 
mv  hanger  (looking  fiercely  and  clapping  my  hand  upon  the  hilt  as  I 
spoke),  when  he  poked  his  paw  into  my  chamber,  perhaps  I should 
have  given  him  such  a wound  as  would  have  made  him  glad  to  with- 


A VOYAGE  TO  BR0BD1NGNAG. 


71 


draw  it  with  more  haste  than  he  put  it  in.  This  I delivered  in  a firm 
tone,  like  a person  who  was  jealous  lest  his  honour  should  be  called  in 
question.  However,  my  speech  produced  nothing  else  besides  a loud 
laughter,  which  all  the  respect  due  to  his  Majesty  from  those  about 
him  could  not  make  them  contain.  This  made  me  reflect  how  vain  an 
attempt  it  is  for  a man  to  endeavour  doing  himself  honour  among  those 
who  are  out  of  all  degree  of  equality  or  comparison  with  him.  And 
yet  I have  seen  the  moral  of  my  own  behaviour  very  frequent  in  England 
since  my  return,  where  a little  contemptible  varlet,  without  the  least 
title  to  birth,  person,  wit,  or  common  sense,  shall  presume  to  look  with 
importance,  and  put  himself  upon  a foot  with  the  greatest  persons  of 
the  kingdom. 

I was  every  day  furnishing  the  court  with  some  ridiculous  story;  and 
Glumdalclitch,  although  she  loved  me  to  excess,  yet  was  arch  enough  to 
inform  the  Queen  whenever  I committed  any  folly  that  she  thought 
would  be  diverting  to  her  Majesty.  The  girl,  who  had  been  out  of 
order,  was  carried  by  her  governess  to  take  the  air  about  an  hour’s 
distance,  or  thirty  miles  from  town.  They  alighted  out  of  the  coach 
near  a small  footpath  in  a field,  and  Glumdalclitch  setting  down  my 
travelling  box  I went  out  of  it  to  walk.  There  was  a cow-dung  in  the 
path,  and  I must  needs  try  my  activity  by  attempting  to  leap  over  it. 
I took  a run,  but  unfortunately  jumped  short,  and  found  myself  just  in 
the  middle  up  to  my  knees.  I waded  through  with  some  difficulty, 
and  one  of  the  footmen  wiped  me  as  clean  as  he  could  with  his  hand- 
kerchief ; for  I was  filthily  bemired,  and  my  nurse  confined  me  to  my 
box  till  we  returned  home,  where  the  Queen  was  soon  informed  of  what 
had  passed,  and  the  footmen  spread  it  about  the  Court,  so  that  all  the 
mirth  for  some  days  was  at  my  expense. 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Several  contrivances  of  the  author  to  please  the  King  and  Queen.  He  shows 
his  skill  in  music.  The  King  inquires  into  fcfie  state  of  Europe,  which  the 
author  relates  to  him.  The  King’s  observations  thereon. 

I USED  to  attend  the  King’s  levee  once  or  twice  a week,  and  had 
often  seen  him  under  the  barber’s  hand,  which  indeed  was  at  first 
very  terrible  to  behold,  for  the  razor  was  almost  twice  as  long  as  an 
ordinary  scythe.  His  Majesty,  according  to  the  custom  of  the  country, 
was  only  shaved  twice  a week.  I once  prevailed  on  the  barber  to  give 
me  some  of  the  suds  or  lather,  out  of  which  I picked  forty  or  fifty  of  the 
strongest  stumps  of  hair.  I then  took  a piece  of  fine  wood,  and  cut  it 
like  the  back  of  a comb,  making  several  holes  in  it  at  equal  distance 
with  as  small  a needle  as  I could  get  from  Glumdalclitch.  I fixed  in 
• the  stumps  so  artificially,  scraping  and  sloping  them  with  my  knife 
towards  the  points,  that  I made  a very  tolerable  comb,  which  was  a 
seasonable  supply,  my  own  being  so  much  broken  in  the  teeth  that  it 
was  almost  useless  ; neither  did  I know  any  artist  in  that  country  so 
nice  and  exact  as  would  undertake  to  make  me  another. 

And  this  puts  me  in  mind  of  an  amusement  wherein  I spent  many  of 
my  leisure  hours.  I desired  the  Queen’s  woman  to  save  for  me  the 
combings  of  her  Majesty’s  hair,  whereof  in  time  I got  a good  quantity  ; 


73 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


and  consulting  with  my  friend  the  cabinet-maker,  who  had  received 
general  orders  to  do  little  jobs  for  me,  I directed  him  to  make  two  chair- 
frames,  no  larger  than  those  I had  in  my  box,  and  then  to  bore  little 
holes  with  a fine  awl  round  those  parts  where  I designed  the  backs  and 
seats  ; through  these  holes  I wove  the  strongest  hairs  I could  pick  out, 
just  after  the  manner  of  cane-chairs  in  England.  When  they  were 
finished  I made  a present  of  them  to  her  Majesty,  who  kept  them  in  her 
cabinet,  and  used  to  show  them  for  curiosities,  as  indeed  they  were  the 
wonder  of  every  one  that  beheld  them.  The  Queen  would  have  had 
me  sit  upon  one  of  these  chairs,  but  I absolutely  refused  to  obey  her, 
protesting  I would  rather  die  a thousand  deaths  than  place  a disho- 
nourable part  of  my  body  on  those  precious  hairs  that  once  adorned 
her  Majesty's  head.  Of  these  hairs  (as  I had  always  a mechanical 
genius)  I likewise  made  a neat  little  purse  about  five  foot  long,  with  her 
Majesty's  name  deciphered  in  gold  letters,  which  I gave  to  Glumdal- 
clitch,  by  the  Queen's  consent.  To  say  the  truth,  it  was  more  for  show 
than  use,  being  not  of  strength  to  bear  the  weight  of  the  larger  coins, 
and  therefore  she  kept  nothing  in  it,  but  some  little  toys  that  girls  are 
fond  of. 

The  King,  who  delighted  in  music,  had  frequent  concerts  at  court, 
to  which  I was  sometimes  carried,  and  set  in  my  box  on  a table  to  hear  1 
them  ; but  the  noise  was  so  great  that  I could  hardly  distinguish  the 
tunes.  I am  confident  that  all  the  drums  and  trumpets  of  a royal  army 
beating  and  sounding  together  just  at  your  ears  could  not  equal  it.  My 
practice  was  to  have  my  box  removed  from  the  places  where  the  per-  { 
formers  sat  as  far  as  I could,  then  to  shut  the  doors  and  windows  of  it, 
and  draw  the  window-curtains ; after  which  I found  their  music  not 
disagreeable. 

I had  learned  in  my  youth  to  play  a little  upon  the  spinet.  Glum-  : 
dalclitch  kept  one  in  her  chamber,  and  a master  attended  twice  a week 
to  teach  her.  I call  it  a spinet  because  it  somewhat  resembled  that 
instrument,  and  was  played  upon  in  the  same  manner.  A fancy  came 
into  my  head  that  I would  entertain  the  King  and  Queen  with  an  j 
English  tune  upon  this  instrument.  But  this  appeared  extremely  diffi-  | 
cult,  for  the  spinet  was  near  sixty  foot  long,  each  key  being  almost  a | 
foot  wide,  so  that,  with  my  arms  extended,  I could  not  reach  to  above  five  j 
keys,  and  to  press  them  down  required  a good  smart  stroke  with  my  ; 
fist,  which  would  be  too  great  a labour,  and  to  no  purpose.  The  me- 
thod I contrived  was  this.  I prepared  two  round  sticks  about  the  big- 
ness of  common  cudgels  ; they  were  thicker  at  one  end  than  the  other,  I: 
and  I covered  the  thicker  ends  with  a piece  of  a mouse’s  skin,  that  by 
rapping  on  them  I might  neither  damage  the  tops  of  the  keys  nor  in- 
terrupt the  sound.  Before  the  spinet  a bench  was  placed  about  four 
foot  below  the  keys,  and  I was  put  upon  the  bench.  I ran  sideling  ^ 
upon  it  that  way  and  this,  as  fast  as  I could,  banging  the  proper  keys 
with  my  two  sticks,  and  made  a shift  to  play  a jig  to  the  great  satisfac- 
tion of  both  their  Majesties  ; but  it  was  the  most  violent  exercise  I ever 
underwent,  and  yet  I could  not  strike  above  sixteen  keys,  nor,  conse- 
quently play  the  bass  and  treble  together  as  other  artists  do,  which  was 
a great  disadvantage  to  my  performance. 

The  King,  who,  as  I before  observed,  was  a Prince  of  excellent  un* 


A VOYAGE  TO  BROBDINGNAG. 


73 


derstanding,  would  frequently  order  that  I should  be  brought  in  my 
box,  and  set  upon  the  table  in  his  closet ; he  would  then  command  me 
to  bring  one  of  my  chairs  out  of  the  box,  and  sit  down  within  three 
yards  distance  upon  the  top  of  the  cabinet,  which  brought  me  almost 
to  a level  with  his  face.  In  this  manner  I had  several  conversations 
with  him.  I one  day  took  the  freedom  to  tell  his  Majesty  that  the 
contempt  he  discovered  towards  Europe  and  the  rest  of  the  world  did 
not  seem  answerable  to  those  excellent  qualities  of  the  mind  he  was 
master  of.  That  reason  did  not  extend  itself  with  the  bulk  of  the  body  ; 
on  the  contrary,  we  observed  in  our  country  that  the  tallest  persons 
were  usually  least  provided  with  it.  That  among  other  animals  bees 
and  ants  had  the  reputation  of  more  industry,  art,  and  sagacity,  than 
many  of  the  larger  kinds  ; and  that,  as  inconsiderable  as  he  took  me  to 
be,  I hoped  I might  live  to  do  his  Majesty  some  signal  service.  The 
King  heard  me  with  attention,  and  began  to  conceive  a much  better 
opinion  of  me  than  he  had  ever  before.  He  desired  I would  give  him 
as  exacf~2m-a£xount  of  the  government  of  England  as  I possibly 
could  ; because,  as  fond  as  princes  commonly  are  of  their  own  cus- 
toms (for  so  he  conjectured  of  other  monarchs  by  my  former  discourses), 
he  should  be  glad  to  hear  of  anything  that  might  deserve  imitation. 

Imagine  with  thyself,  courteous  reader,  how  often  I then  wished  for 
the  tongue  of  Demosthenes  or  Cicero,  that  might  have  enabled  me  to 
celebrate  the  praise  of  my  own  dear  native  country  in  a style  equal  to 
its  merits  and  felicity. 

I began  my  discourse  by  informing  his  Majesty  that  our  dominions 
consisted  of  two  islands,  which  composed  three  mighty  kingdoms 
under  one  sovereign,  besides  our  plantations  in  America.  I dwelt  long 
upon  the  fertility  of  our  soil  and  the  temperature  of  our  climate.  I 
then  spoke  at  large  upon  the  constitution  of  an  English  parliament, 
partly  made  up  of  an  illustrious  body  called  the  House  of  Peers, 
persons  of  the  noblest  blood  and  of  the  most  ancient  and  ample  patri- 
monies. I described  that  extraordinary  care  always  taken  of  their 
education  in  arts  and  arms,  to  qualify  them  for  being  counsellors  born 
to  the  King  and  kingdom  ; to  have  a share  in  the  legislature ; to  be 
members  of  the  highest  court  of  judicature,  from  whence  there  could 
be  no  appeal ; and  to  be  champions  always  ready  for  the  defence  of 
their  prince  and  country,  by  their  valour,  conduct,  and  fidelity.  That 
these  were  the  ornament  and  bulwark  of  the  kingdom,  worthy  followers 
of  their  most  renowned  ancestors,  whose  honour  had  been  the  reward 
of  their  virtue,  from  which  their  posterity  were  never  once  known  to 
degenerate.  To  these  were  joined  several  holy  persons,  as  part  of  that 
assembly,  under  the  title  of  bishops,  whose  peculiar  business  it  is  to 
take  care  of  religion,  and  of  those  who  instruct  the  people  therein. 
These  were  searched,  and  sought  out,  througn  the  whole  nation,  by  the 
prince  and  his  wisest  counsellors,  among  such  oi  the  priesthood  as 
were  most  deservedly  distinguished  by  the  sanctity  of  their  lives  and 
the  deoth  of  their  erudition,  who  were  indeed  the  spiritual  fathers  of 
the  clergy  and  the  people. 

That  the  other  part  ot  the  parliament  consisted  of  an  assembly  called 
the  House  of  Commons,  who  were  all  principal  gentlemen,  freely  picked 
and  culled  out  by  the  people  themselves,  for  their  great  abilities  qnd 


74 


BEAN  SWIFrS  WORKS . 


lo^e  of  their  country,  to  represent  the  wisdom  of  the  whole  nation. 
And  these  two  bodies  make  up  the  most  august  assembly  in  Europe, 
to  whom,  in  conjunction  with  the  prince,  the  whole  legislature  is  com- 
mitted. 

I then  descended  to  the  courts  of  justice,  over  which  the  judges, 
those  venerable  sages  and  interpreters  of  the  law  presided,  for  deter- 
mining the  disputed  rights  and  properties  of  men,  as  well  as  for  the 
punishment  of  vice  and  protection  of  innocence.  I mentioned  the 
prudent  management  of  our  treasury,  the  valour  and  achievements 
of  our  forces  by  sea  and  land.  I computed  the  number  of  our  people, 
by  reckoning  how  many  millions  there  might  be  of  each  religious  sect 
or  political  party  among  us.  I did  not  omit  even  our  sports  and 
pastimes,  or  any  other  particular  which  I thought  might  redound  to  the 
honour  of  my  country.  And  I finished  all  with  a brief  historical 
account  of  affairs  and  events  in  England  for  about  an  hundred  years 
past. 

This  conversation  was  not  ended  under  five  audiences,  each  of  several 
hours,  and  the  King  heard  the  whole  with  great  attention,  frequently 
taking  notes  of  what  I spoke,  as  well  as  memorandums  of  all  questions 
he  intended  to  ask  me. 

When  I had  put  an  end  to  these  long  discourses,  his  Majesty  in  a 
sixth  audience,  consulting  his  notes,  proposed-  many  doubts,  queries, 
and  objections,  upon  every  article.  He  asked  what  methods  were  used 
to  cultivate  the  minds  and  bodies  of  our  young  nobility,  and  in  what 
kind  of  business  they  commonly  spent  the  first  and  teachable  part  of  i 
their  lives.  What  course  was  taken  to  supply  that  assembly  when  any 
noble  family  became  extinct.  What  qualifications  were  necessary  in 
those  who  are  to  be  created  new  lords  : whether  the  humour  of  the  * 
prince,  a sum  of  money  to  a court-lady,  or  a prime  minister,  or  a design  < 
of  strengthening  a party  opposite  to  the  public  interest,  ever  happened 
to  be  motives  in  those  advancements.  What  share  of  knowledge  these 
lords  had  in  the  laws  of  their  country,  and  how  they  came  by  it,  so  as 
to  enable  them  to  decide  the  properties  of  their  fellow-subjects  in  the 
last  resort.  Whether  they  were  always  so  free  from  avarice,  partiali- 
ties, or  want,  that  a bribe,  or  some  other  sinister  view,  could  have  no 
place  among  them.  Whether  those  holy  lords  I spoke  of  were  always 
promoted  to  that  rank  upon  account  of  their  knowledge  in  religi™,c  | 
matters,  and  the  sanctity  of  their  lives,  had  never  been  compilers  with 
the  times  while  they  were  common  priests,  or  slavish  prostitute  cnap- 
lains  to  some  nobleman,  whose  opinions  they  continued  servilely  to  , 
follow  after  they  were  admitted  into  that  assembly. 

He  then  desired  to  know  what  arts  were  practised  in  electing  those 
whom  I called  commoners  : whether  a stranger  with  a strong  purse 
might  not  influence  the  vulgar  voters  to  choose  him  before  their  own 
landlord,  or  the  most  considerable  gentleman  in  the  neighbourhood. 
How  it  came  to  pass,  that  people  were  so  violently  bent  upon  getting 
into  this  assembly,  which  I allowed  to  be  a great  trouble  and  expense, 
often  to  the  ruin  of  their  families,  without  any  salary  or  pension  : 
because  this  appeared  such  an  exalted  strain  of  virtue  and  public  spirit, 
that  his  Majesty  seemed  to  doubt  it  might  possibly  not  be  always  sin- 
cere : and  he  desired  to  know  whether  such  zealous  gentlemen  could  have 


A VOYAGE  TO  BR0BD1NGNAG. 


7$ 


any  views  of  refunding  themselves  for  the  charges  and  trouble  they 
were  at,  by  sacrificing  "the  public  good  to  the  designs  of  a weak'  and 
vicious  prince  in  conjunction  with  a corrupted  ministry.  He  multiplied 
his  questions,  and  sifted  me  thoroughly  upon  every  part  of  this  head, 
proposing  numberless  inquiries  and  objections,  which  I think  it  not 
prudent  or  convenient  to  repeat. 

Upon  what  I said  in  relation  to  our  courts  of  justice,  his  Majesty 
desired  to  be  satisfied  in  several  points  : and,  this  I was  the  better  able  to 
do,  having  been  formerly  almost  ruined  by  a long  suit  in  the  Chancery, 
which  was  decreed  for  me  with  costs.  He  asked,  what  time  was  usually 
spent  in  determining  between  right  and  wrong,  and  what  degree  of 
expense.  Whether  advocates  and  orators  had  liberty  to  plead  in  causes 
manifestly  known  to  be  unjust,  vexatious,  or  oppressive.  Whether 
party  in  religion  or  politics  were  observed  to  be  of  any  weight  in  the 
scale  of  justice.  Whether  those  pleading  orators  were  persons  edu- 
cated in  the  general  knowledge  of  equity,  or  only  in  provincial,  national, 
and  other  local  customs.  Whether  they  or  their  judges  had  any  part 
in  penning  those  laws  which  they  assumed  the  liberty  of  interpreting 
and  glossing  upon  at  their  pleasure.  Whether  they  had  ever  at  dif- 
ferent times  pleaded  for  and  against  the  same  cause,  and  cited  prece- 
dents to  prove  contrary  opinions.  Whether  they  were  a rich  or  a poor 
corporation.  Whether  they  received  any  pecuniary  reward  for  pleading 
or  delivering  their  opinions.  And  particularly,  whether  they  were  ever 
admitted  as  members  in  the  lower  senate. 

He  fell  next  upon  the  management  of  our  treasury,  and  said,  he 
thought  my  memory  had  failed  me,  because  I computed  our  taxes  at 
about  five  or  six  millions  a year,  and  when  I came  to  mention  the 
issues,  he  found  they  sometimes  amounted  to  more  than  double  ; for 
the  notes  he  had  taken  were  very  particular  in  this  point,  because  he 
hoped,  as  he  told  me,  that  the  knowledge  of  our  conduct  might  be 
useful  to  him,  and  he  could  not  be  deceived  in  his  calculations.  But, 
if  what  I told  him  were  true,  he  was  still  at  a loss  how  a kingdom  could 
run  out  of  its  estate  like  a private  person.  He  asked  me  who  were  our 
creditors,  and  where  we  should  find  money  to  pay  them.  He  wondered 
to  hear  me  talk  of  such  chargeable  and  extensive  wars  ; that  certainly 
we  must  be  a quarrelsome  people,  or  live  among  very  bad  neighbours, 
and  that  our  generals  must  needs  be  richer  than  our  kings.  He  asked 
what  business  we  had  out  of  our  own  islands,  unless  upon  the  score  of 
trade  or  treaty,  or  to  defend  the  coasts  with  aur  fleet.  Above  all,  he 
was  amazed  to  hear  me  talk  of  a mercenary  standing  army  in  the  midst 
of  peace,  and  among  a free  people.  He  said,  if  we  were  governed  by 
our  own  consent  in  the  persons  of  our  representatives,  he  could  not 
imagine  of  whom  we  were  afraid,  or  against  whom  we  were  to  fight, 
and  would  hear  my  opinion,  whether  a private  man’s  house  might  not 
better  be  defended  by  himself,  his  children  and  family,  than  by  half  a 
dozen  rascals  picked  up  at  a venture  in  the  streets,  for  small  wages, 
who  might  get  an  hundred  times  more  by  cutting  their  throats. 

He  laughed  at  my  odd  kind  of  arithmetic  (as  he  was  pleased  to  call 
it)  .in  reckoning  the  numbers  of  our  people  by  a computation  drawn 
from  the  several  sects  among  us  in  religion  and  politics.  He  said,  he 
knew  no  reason  why  those  who  entertain  opinions  prejudicial  to  the 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS , 


76 

public  should  be  obliged  to  change,  or  should  hot  be  obliged  to  conceat 
them.  And  as  it  was  tyranny  in  any  government  to  require  the  first, 
so  it  was  weakness  not  to  enforce  the  second  : for  a man  may  be 
allowed  to  keep  poisons  in  his  closet,  but  not  to  vend  them  about  for 
cordials. 

He  observed,  that  among  the  diversions  of  our  nobility  and  gentry, 

I had  mentioned  gaming.  He  desired  to  know  at  what  age  this  enter- 
tainment was  usually  taken  up.  and  when  it  was  laid  down  ; how  much 
of  their  time  it  employed  ; whether  it  ever  went  so  high  as  to  affect 
their  fortunes  : whether  mean  vicious  people,  by  their  dexterity  in  that 

# art,  might  not  arrive  at  great  riches,  and  sometimes  keep  out  very 

* nobles  in  dependance,  as  well  as  habituate  them  to  vile  companions, 
wholly  take  them  from  the  improvement  of  their  minds,  and  force  them, 
by  the  losses  they  have  received,  to  learn  and  practise  that  infamous 
dexterity  upon  others. 

He  was  perfectly  astonished  with  the  historical  account  I gave  him 
of  our  affairs  during  the  last  century,  protesting  it  was  only  an  heap  of 
conspiracies,  rebellions,  murders,  massacres,  revolutions,  banishments, 
the  very  worst  effects  that  avarice,  faction,  hypocrisy,  perfidiousness, 
cruelty,  rage,  madness,  hatred,  envy,  lust,  malice,  or  ambition  could 
produce. 

His  Majesty,  in  another  audience,  was  at  the  pains  to  recapitulate 
the  sum  of  all  I had  spoken,  compared  the  questions  he  made  with  the 
answers  I had  given  ; then  taking  me  into  his  hands,  and  stroking  me 
gently,  delivered  himself  in  these  words,  which  .1  shall  never  forget, 
nor  the  manner  he  spoke  them  in  : M My  little  friend  Grildrig,  you  have 
made  a most  admirable  panegyric  upon  your  country  : you  have  clearly 
proved  that  ignorance,  idleness  and  vice  may  be  sometimes  the  only 
ingredients  for  qualifying  a legislator : that  laws  are  best  explained, 
interpreted,  and  applied  by  those  whose  interest  and  abilities  lie  in 
perverting,  confounding,  and  eluding  them.  \ I observe  among  you 
some  lines  of  an  institution,  which  in  its  original  might  have  been 
tolerable,  *but  these  half  erased,  and  the  rest  wholly  blurred  and  blotted 
by  corruptions.  It  doth  not  appear  from  all  you  have  said,  how  any 
one  virtue  is  required  towards  the  procurement  of  any  one  station  . 
among  you,  much  less  that  men  were  ennobled  on  account  of  their 
virtue,  that  priests  were  advanced  for  their  piety  or  learning,  soldiers 
for  their  conduct  or  valour,  judges  for  their  integrity,  senators  for  the 
love  of  their  country,  or  counsellors  for  their  wisdom.  As  for  yourself  * 
(continued  the  King),  who  have  spent  the  greatest  part  of  your  life  in 
travelling,  I am  well  di  posed  to  hope  you  may  hitherto  have  escaped 
many  vices  of  your  country.  Bui  by  what  I have  gathered  from  your 
own  relation,  and  the  answers  I have  with  much  pains  wringed  and 
extorted  from  you,  I cannot  but  conclude  the  bulk  of  your  natives  to 
be  the  most  pernicious  race  of  little  odious  vermin  that  .Nature  ever 
suffered  to  crawl  upon  the  surface  of  the  earth." 


CHAPTER  VII. 


The  author’s  love  of  his  country.  He  makes  a proposal  of  much  advantage 
to  the  King,  which  is  rejected.  The  King’s  great  ignorance  in  politics. 
The  learning  of  that  country  very  imperfect  and  confined.  Their  laws,  and 
military  affairs,  and  parties  in  the  state. 

OTHING  but  an  extreme  love  of  truth  could  have  hindered  me 


from  concealing  this  part  of  my  story.  It  was  in  vain  to  dis- 
cover my  resentments,  which  were  always  turned  into  ridicule  ; and  I 
was  forced  to  rest  with  patience  while  my  noble  and  most  beloved 
country  was  so  injuriously  treated.  I am  heartily  sorry  as  any  of  my 
readers  can  possibly  be,  that  such  an  occasion  was  given  : but  this 
prince  happened  to  be  so  curious  and  inquisitive  upon  every  particular, 
that  it  could  not  consist  either  with  gratitude  or  good  manners  to  refuse 
giving  him  what  satisfaction  I was  able.  Yet  thus  much  I may  be 
allowed  to  say  in  my  own  vindication,  that  I artfully  eluded  many  of 
his  questions,  and  gave  to  every  point  a more  favourable  turn  by  many 
degrees  than  the  strictness  of  truth  would  allow.  For  I have  always 
borne  that  laudable  partiality  to  my  own  country,  which  Dionysius 
Halicarnassensis  with  so  much  justice  recommends  to  an  historian  : I 
would  hide  the  frailties  and  deformities  of  my  political  mother,  and 
place  her  virtues  and  beauties  in  the  most  advantageous  light.  This 
was  my  sincere  endeavour  in  those  many  discourses  I had  with  that 
monarch,  although  it  unfortunately  failed  of  success. 

But  great  allowances  should  be  given  to  a king  who  lives  wholly 
secluded  from  the  rest  of  the  world,  and  must  therefore  be  altogether 
unacquainted  with  the  manners  and  customs  that  most  prevail  in  other 
nations  : the  want  of  which  knowledge  will  ever  produce  many  preju- 
dices, and  a certain  narrowness  of  thinking,  from  which  we  an4  the 
politer  countries  of  Europe  are  wholly  exempted.  And  it  would  be 
hard,  indeed,  if  so  remote  a prince’s  notions  of  virtue  and  vice  were  to 
be  offered  as  a standard  for  all  mankind. 

To  confirm  what  I have  now  said,  and  further,  to  shew  the  miserable 
effects  of  a confined  education,  I shall  here  insert  a passage  which  will 
hardly  obtain  belief.  In  hopes  to  ingratiate  myself  farther  into  his 
Majesty’s  favour,  I told  him  of  an  invention  discovered  between  three 
and  four  hundred  years  ago,  to  make  a certain  powder,  into  an  heap  of 
which  the  smallest  spark  of  fire  falling,  would  kindle  the  whole  in  a 
moment,  although  it  were  as  big  as  a mountain,  and  make  it  all  fly  up 
in  the  air  together,  with  a noise,  and  agitation  greater  than  thunder. 
That  a proper  quantity  of  this  powder  rammed  into  an  hollow  tube  of 
brass  or  iron,  according  to  its  bigness,  would  drive  a ball  of  iron  or  lead 
with  such  violence  and  speed,  as  nothing  was  able  to  sustain  its  force. 
That  the  largest  balls  thus  discharged  would  not  only  destroy  whole 
ranks  of  an  army  at  once,  but  batter  the  strongest  walls  to  the  ground, 
sink  down  ships,  with  a thousand  men  in  each,  to  the  bottom  of  the 
sea ; and.  when  linked  together  by  a chain,  would  cut  through  masts 
and  rigging,  divide  hundreds  of  bodies  in  the  middle,  and  lay  all  waste 
beiore  them.  That  we  often  put  this  powder  into  large  hollow  balls  of 
iron,  and  discharged  them  by  an  engine  into  some  city  we  were 


DE AW  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


5ing,  which  would  rip  up  the  pavements,  tear  the  houses  to  pieces, 
urst  and  throw  splinters  on  every  side,  dashing  out  the  brains  of  all 
who  came  near.  That  I knew  the  ingredients  very  well,  which  were 
cheap  and  common ; I understood  the  manner  of  compounding  them, 
and  could  direct  his  workmen  how  to  make  those  tubes  of  a size  pro- 
portionable to  all  other  things  in  his  Majesty’s  kingdom,  and  the  largest 
need  not  be  above  an  hundred  foot  long  ; twenty  or  thirty  of  which  tubes, 
charged  with  the  proper  quantity  of  powder  and  balls,  would  batter 
down  the  .walls  of  the  strongest  town  in  his  dominions  in  a few  hours, 
or  destroy  the  whole  metropolis,  if  ever  it  should  pretend  to  dispute 
his  absolute  commands.  This  I humbly  offered  to  his  Majesty  as  a 
small  tribute  of  acknowledgment  in  return  of  so  many  marks  that  I had 
received  of  his  royal  favour  and  protection. 

The  King  was  struck  with  horror  at  the  description  I had  given  *>f 
those  terrible  engines  and  the  proposal  I had  made.  He  was  amazed 
how  so  impotent  and  grovelling  an  insect  as  I (these  were  his  expres- 
sions) could  entertain  such  inhuman  ideas,  and  in  so  familiar  a manner 
as  to  appear  wholly  unmoved  at  all  the  scenes  of  blood  and  desolation, 
which  I had  painted  as  the  common  effects  of  those  destructive  ma- 
chines, whereof  he  said,  some  evil  genius,  enemy  to  mankind,  must 
have  been  the  first  contriver.  As  for  himself,  he  protested,  that 
although  few  things  delighted  him  so  much  as  new  discoveries  in  art 
or  in  nature,  yet  he  would  rather  lose  half  his  kingdom  than  be  privy 
to  such  a secret,  which  he  commanded  me,  as  I valued  my  life,  never 
to  mention  any  more.  < 

A strange  effect  of  narrow  principles  and  short  views  ! that  a prince 
possessed  of  every  quality  which  procures  veneration,  love,  and  esteem ; 
of  strong  parts,  great  wisdom,  and  profound  learning,  endued  with  - 
admirable  talents  for  government,  and  almost  adored  by  his  subjects, ; 
should  from  a nice  unnecessary  scruple,  whereof  in  Europe  we  can  have 
no  conception,  let  slip  an  opportunity  put  into  his  hands,  that  would 
have  made  him  absolute  master  of  the  lives,  the  liberties,  and  the 
fortunes  of  his  people.  Neither  do  I say  this  with  the  least  intention 
to  detract  from  the  many  virtues  of  that  excellent  King,  whose  character 
I am  sensible,  will,  on  this  account,  be  very  much  lessened  in  the 
opinion  of  an  English  reader:  but  I take  this  detect  among  them  to 
have  risen  from  their  ignorance,  they  not  having  hitherto  reduced! 
politics  into  a science,  as  the  more  acute  wits  of  Europe  have  done. 
For  I remember  very  well,  in  a discourse  one  day  with  the  King,  when 
I happened  to  say  there  were  several  thousand  books  among  us  written 
upon  the  art  of  government,  it  gave  him  (directly  contrary  to  my  inten- 
tion) a very  mean  opinion  of  our  understandings.  He  professed  both 
to  abominate  and  despise  all  mystery,  refinement,  and  intrigue,  either 
in  a prince  or  a minister.  He  could  not  tell  what  I meant  by  secrets 
of  state,  where  an  enemy  or  some  rival  nation  were  not  in  the  case. 
He  confined  the  knowledge  of  governing  within  very  narrow  bouncis, 
to  common  sense  and  reason,  to  justice  and  lenity,  to  the  speedy 
determination  of  civil  and  criminal  causes  ; with  some  other  obvious 
topics  which  are  not  worth  considering.  And,  he  gave  it  for  his  opinion, 
that  whoever  could  make  tw7o  ears  of  corn,  or  two  blades  of  grass,  to 
grow  upon  a spot  of  ground  where  only  one  grew  before,  wornd  deserve 


A VOYAGE  TO  BROBDINGNAG.  *?9 

better  of  mankind,  and  do  more  essential  service  to  his  country  than 
the  whole  race  of  politicians  put  together^ 

The  learning  of  this  people  is  very  defective,  consisting  only  ini 
morality,  history,  poetry,  and  mathematics,  wherein  they  must  ber 
allowed  to  excel.  But,  the  last  of  these  is  wholly  applied  to  what  may  be 
useful  in  life,  to  the  improvement  of  agriculture  and  all  mechanical 
arts  ; so  that  among  us  it  would  be  little  esteemed.  And  as  to  ideas, 
entities,  abstractions  and  transcendental,  I could  never  drive  the  least 
conception  into  their  heads. 

No  law  of  that  country  must  exceed  in  words  the  number  of  letters 
in  their  alphabet,  which  consists  only  in  two  and  twenty.  But,  indeed, 
few  of  them  extend  even  to  that  length.  They  are  expressed  in  the 
most  plain  and  simple  terms,  wherein  those  people  are  not  mercurial 
enough  to  discover  above  one  interpretation  : and  to  write  a comment 
upon  any  law  is  a capital  crime.  As  to  the  decision  of  civil  causes,  or 
proceedings  against  criminals,  their  precedents  are  so  few,  that  they 
have  little  reason  to  boast  of  any  extraordinary  skill  in  either. 

They  have  had  the  art  of  printing,  as  well  as  the  Chinese,  time  out 
of  mind  : but  their  libraries  are  not  very  large  ; for  that  of  the  King’s, 
which  is  reckoned  the  biggest,  doth  not  amount  to  above  a thousand 
volumes,  placed  in  a gallery  of  twelve  hundred  foot  long,  from  whence 
I had  liberty  to  borrow  what  books  I pleased.  The  Queen’s  joiner  had 
contrived  in  one  of  Glumdalclitch’s  rooms  a kind  of  wooden  machine 
five  and  twenty  foot  high,  formed  like  a standing  ladder,  the  steps  were 
each  fifty  foot  long  : it  was  indeed  a moveable  pair  of  stairs,  the  lowest 
end  placed  at  ten  foot  distance  from  the  wall  of  the  chamber.  The 
book  I had  a mind  to  read  was  put  up  leaning  against  the  wall : I first 
mounted  to  the  upper  step  of  the  ladder,  and  turning  my  face  towards 
the  book,  began  at  the  top  of  the  page,  and  so  walking  to  the  right  and 
left  about  eight  or  ten  paces,  according  to  the  length  of  the  lines,  till  I 
had  gotten  a little  below  the  level  of  mine  eyes,  and  then  descending 
gradually  till  I came  to  the  bottom  : after  which  I mounted  again,  and 
began  the  other  page  in  the  same  manner,  and  so  turned  over  the  leaf, 
which  I could  easily  do  with  both  my  hands,  for  it  was  as  thick  and 
stiff  as  a pasteboard,  and  in  the  largest  folios  not  above  eighteen  or 
twenty  foot  long. 

Their  style  is  clear,  masculine,  and  smooth,  but  not  florid,  for  they 
avoid  nothing  more  than  multiplying  unnecessary  words,  or  using 
various  expressions.  I have  perused  many  of  their  books,  especially  * 
those  in  history  and  morality.  Among  the  rest  I was  much  diverted 
with  a little  old  treatise,  which  always  lay  in  Glumdalclitch’s  bed- 
chamber, and  belonged  to  her  governess,  a grave  elderly  gentlewoman, 
who  dealt  in  writings  of  morality  and  devotion.  The  book  treats  of 
the  weakness  of  human  kind,  and  is  in  little  esteem  except  among  the 
women  and  the  vulgar.  However,  I was  curious  to  see  what  an  author 
of  that  country  could  say  upon  such  a subject.  This  writer  went  through 
-all  the  usual  topics  of  European  moralists,  showing  how  diminutive, 
contemptible,  and  helpless  an  animal  was  man  in  his  own  nature  ; how 
unable  to  defend  himself  from  inclemencies  of  the  air,  or  the  fury  of 
wild  beasts  : howr  much  he  was  excelled  by  one  creature  in  strength, 
by  another  in  speed,  by  a third  in  foresight,  by  a fourth  in  industry. 


ga  DEAN  SWIFT’S  WORKS. 

He  added  that  nature  was  degenerated  in  these  latter  declining  ages  of 
the  world,  and  could  now  produce  only  small  abortive  births  m com- 
narison  of  those  in  ancient  times.  He  said  it  was  very  reasonable  to 
S „ot  only  that  the  species  of  man  were  originally  much  larger  but 
also  that  there  must  have  been  giants  in  former  ages  which,  as  it  is 
asserted  by  history  and  tradition,  so  it  hath  been  confirmed  by  huge 
bones  and  skulls  casually  dug  up  in  several  parts  of  the  kingdom  far 
exceeding  the  common  dwindled  race  of  man  in  our  days  He  aigued 
that  the  very  laws  of  nature  absolutely  required  we  should  have  been 
made  in  tlm  beginning  of  a size  more  large  and  robust,  not  so  liable  to 
detraction  front  every  little  accident  of  a tile  falling  from  an  house,  or 
a stone  cast  from  the  hand  of  a boy,  or  of  being  drowned  in  a little 
brook.  From  this  way  of  reasoning  the  author  drew  several  moral  ap- 
plications useful  in  the  conduct  of  life,  but  needless  here  to  repeat  For 
mv  own  part,  I could  not  avoid  reflecting  how  universally  this  talent 
was  spread  of  drawing  lectures  in  morality,  or,  indeed,  rather  matter  of 
discontent  and  repining,  from  the  quarrels  wft  raise  with  nature.  And 
I believe,  upon  a strict  inquiry,  those  quarrels  might  be  shown  as  fli- 
p-rounded among  us  as  they  are  among  that  people.  . 

g As  to  their  military  affairs,  they  boast  that  the  Kings  army  consists 
of  an  hundred  and  seventy-six  thousand  foot,  and  thirty-two  thousand 
horse  • if  that  maybe  called  an  army  which  is  made  up  of  tradesmen  in 
the  several  cities,  and  farmers  in  the  country,  whose  commanders  aie 
onlv  the  nobility  and  gentry,  without  pay  or  reward.  They  are  indeed 
perfect  enough  in  their  exercises,  and  under  very  good  discipline,  wherein 
I slw  no  great  merit ; for  how  should  it  be  otherwise,  where  every  far- 
mer is  under  the  command  of  his  own  landlord,  and  every  citizen  under 
Sat  of  the  principal  men  in  his  own  city,  chosen  after  the  manner  of, 

V Tha ve "o ft e n See n the  militia  of  Lorbrulgrud  drawn  out  to  exercise 
in  a <rreat  field  near  the  city  of  twenty  miles  square.  They  were  in  all 
not  above  twenty-five  thousand  foot,  and  six  thousand  horse ; but  it  was 
impossible  for  me  to  compute  their  number,  considering  the  space  of 
ground  they  took  up.  A cavalier  mounted  on  a large  steed  mignt  be 
about  a hundred  foot  high.  I have  seen  this  whole  body  of  horse : upon, 
a word  of  command  draw  their  swords  at  once,  and  brandish  them  in, 
the  air  Imagination  can  figure  nothing  so  grand,  so  surprising,  and 
so  astonistog0:  it  looked  as°if  ten  thousand  flashes  of  lightning  were 
• darting  at  the  same  time  from  every  quarter  of  the  sky.  . # 

Iwas  curious  to  know  how  this  Prince,  to  whose  dominions  there 
no  access  from  any  other  country,  came  to  think  of  armies,  or  to  tea 
his  people  the  practice  of  military  discipline.  But  I was  soon  informed, 
both  by  conversation  and  reading,  their  histones,  for  in  Recourse  of 
manv  ah-es  they  have  been  troubled  with  the  same  disease  to  which  so 
many  ofher  governments  are  subject,— the  nobility  often  contending  o 
y b i r imprtv  and  the  Kin0,  for  absolute  dominion  , all 

E’S of  the  kingdom,  have 
been  sometmms  violated  by  each  of  the  three  parties,  and  have  once  o I 
more  occasioned  civil  wars,  the  last  whereof  was  happily  put  an  end  to 
bv^ thi^Prfnce’s  grandfather  by  a general  comoosit.on  ; and  the  mill  ta 
Sen  settled  with  common  consent,  hath  been  ever  since  kept  in  the 
strictest  duty. 


A VO y AGE  TO  BROBDINGNAG. 


It 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

The  King  and  Queen  make  a progress  to  the  frontiers.  The  author  attends 
them.  The  manner  in  which  he  leaves  the  country  very  particularly  related. 
He  returns  to  England. 

I HAD  always  a strong  impulse  that  I should  sometime  recover  my 
liberty,  though  it  was  impossible  to  conjecture  by  what  means,  oi 
to  form  any  project  with  the  least  hope  of  succeeding.  The  ship  in 
which  I sailed  was  the  first  ever  known  to  be  driven  within  sight  oi 
that  coast,  and  the  King  had  given  strict  orders  that  if  at  any  time 
another  appeared  it  should  be  taken  ashore,  and  with  all  its  crew  and 
passengers  brought  in  a tumbril  to  Lorbrulgrud.  He  was  strongly  bent 
to  get  me  a woman  of  my  own  size,  by  whom  I might  propagate  the 
breed.  But  I think  I should  rather  have  died  than  undergone  the  dis- 
grace of  leaving  a posterity  to  be  kept  in  cages  like  tame  canary  birds, 
and  perhaps,  in  time,  sold  about  the  kingdom  to  persons  of  quality  for 
curiosities.  I was  indeed  treated  with  much  kindness.  I was  the 
favourite  of  a great  King  and  Queen,  and  the  delight  of  the  whole 
court,  but  it  was  upon  such  a foot  as  ill  became  the  dignity  of  human 
kind.  I could  never  forget  those  domestic  pledges  I had  left  behind 
me,  I wanted  to  be  among  people  with  whom  I could  converse  upon 
even  terms,  and  walk  about  the  streets  and  fields  without  fear  of  being 
trod  to  death  like  a frog  or  a young  puppy.  But  my  deliverance  came 
sooner  than  I expected,  and  in  a manner  not  very  common,  the  whole 
Story  and  circumstances  of  which  I shall  faithfully  relate. 

I had  now  been  two  years  in  this  country  ; and  about  the  beginning 
of  the  third,  Glumdalclitch  and  I attended  the^King  and  Queen  in  a 
progress  to  the  south  coast  of  the  kingdom.  I was  carried,  as  usual,  in 
my  travelling  box,  which,  as  I have  already  described,  was  a very  con- 
venient closet  of  twelve  foot  wide.  And  I had  ordered  a hammock  to 
be  fixed  by  silken  ropes  from  the  four  corners  at  the  top,  to  break  the 
jolts,  when  a servant  carried  me  before  him  on  horseback,  as  I some- 
times desired,  and  would  often  sleep  in  my  hammock  while  we  were 
upon  the  road.  On  the  roof  of  my  closet,  not  directly  over  the  middle 
of  the  hammock,  I ordered  the  joiner  to  cut  out  a hole  of  a foot  square, 
to  give  me  air  in  hot  weather  as  I slept,  which  hole  I shut  at  pleasure, 
with  a board  that  drew  backwards  and  forwards  through  a groove. 

When  we  came  to  our  journey’s  end  the  King  thought  proper  to  pass 
a few  days  at  a palace  he  hath  near  Flanflasnic,  a city  within  eighteen 
English  miles  of  the  seaside.  Glumdalclitch  and  I were  much  fatigued ; 
I had  gotten  a small  cold,  but  the  poor  girl  was  so  ill  as  to  be  confined 
to  her  chamber.  I longed  to  see  the  ocean,  which  must  be  the  only 
scene  of  my  escape  if  ever  it  should  happen.  I pretended  to  be  worse 
than  I really  was,  and  desired  leave  to  take  the  fresh  air  of  the  sea,  with 
a page  whom  I was  very  fond  of,  and  who  had  sometimes  been  trusted 
with  me.  I shall  never  forget  with  what  unwillingness  Glumdalclitch 
consented,  nor  the  strict  charge  she  gave  the  page  to  be  careful  of  me, 
bursting  at  the  same  time  into  a flooa  of  tears  as  if  she  had  some  fore- 
boding of  what  was  to  happen.  The  boy  took  me  out  in  my  box  about 

6 


89 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


half  an  hour’s  walk  from  the  palace  towards  the  rocks  on  the  sea  shore 
I ordered  him  to  set  me  down,  and  lifting  up  one  of  my  sashes  cast 
many  a wistful  melancholy  look  towards  the  sea.  I found  myself  not 
very  well,  and  told  the  page  that  I had  a mind  to  take  a nap  in  my 
hammock,  which  I hoped  would  do  me  good.  I got  in,  and  the  boy  shut 
the  window  close  down  to  keep  out  the  cold.  I soon  fell  asleep,  and 
all  I can  conjecture  is  that  while  I slept  the  page,  thinking  no  danger  could 
happen,  went  among  the  rocks  to  look  for  birds’  eggs,  having  before 
observed  him  from  my  window,  searching  about  and  picking  up  one  or 
two  in  the  clefts.  Be  that  as  it  will,  I found  myself  suddenly  awakened 
with  a violent  pull  upon  the  ring  which  was  fastened  at  the  top  of  my 
box  for  the  conveniency  of  carriage.  I felt  my  box  raised  very  high  in 
the  air,  and  then  borne  forward  with  prodigious  speed.  The  first  jolt 
had  like  to  have  shaken  me  out  of  my  hammock,  but  afterwards  the 
motion  was  easy  enough.  I called  out  several  times  as  loud  as  I could 
raise  my  voice,  but  all  to  no  purpose.  I looked  towards  my  windows, 
and  could  see  nothing  but  the  clouds  and  sky.  I heard  a noise  just 
over  my  head  like  the  clapping  of  wings,  and  then  began  to  perceive 
the  woful  condition  I was  in,  that  some  eagle  had  got  the  ring  of  my 
box  in  his  beak  with  an  intent  to  let  it  fall  on  a rock  like  a tortoise  in 
a shell,  and  then  pick  out  my  body,  and  devour  it.  For  the  sagacity 
and  smell  of  this  bird  enable  him  to  discover  his  quarry  at  a greatf 
distance,  though  better  concealed  than  I could  be  within  a two-inch 
board.  . . j 

In  a little  time  I observed  the  noise  and  flutter  of  wings  to  increase 
very  fast,  and  my  box  was  tossed  up  and  down  like  a sign-post  in  a windy 
day.  I heard  several  bangs  or  buffets,  as  I thought,  given  to  the  eagle 
(for  such  I am  certain  it  must  have  been  that  held  the  ring  of  my  box  in 
his  beak),  and  then  all  on  a sudden  felt  myself  falling  perpendicularly 
down  for  above  a minute,  but  with  such  incredible  swiftness  that  I 
almost  lost  my  breath.  My  fall  was  stopped  by  a terrible  squash  that 
sounded  louder  to  mine  ears  than  the  cataract  of  Niagara  ; after  which 
I was  quite  in  the  dark  for  another  minute,  and  then  my  box  began  to 
rise  so  high  that  I could  see  light  from  the  tops  of  my  windows.  I 
now  perceived  that  I was  fallen  into  the  sea.  My  box,  by  the  weight 
of  my  body,  the  goods  that  were  in,  and  the  broad  plates  of  iron  fixec| 
for  strength  at  the  four  corners  of  the  top  and  bottom,  floated  about 
five  foot  deep  in  water.  I did  then,  and  do  now,  suppose  that  the  eagle 
which  flew  away  with  my  box  was  pursued  by  two  or  three  others,  and 
forced  to  let  me  drop  while  he  was  defending  himself  against  the  rest; 
who  hoped  to  share  in  the  prey.  The  plates  of  iron  fastened  at  the 
bottom  of  the  box  (for  those  were  the  strongest)  preserved  the  balance 
while  it  fell,  and  hindered  it  from  being  broken  on  the  surface  of  the 
water.  Every  joint  of  it  was  well  grooved  ; and  the  door  did  not  move 
on  hinges,  but  up  and  down  like  a sash,  which  kept  my  closet  so  tight 
that  very  little  water  came  in.  I got,  with  much  difficulty,  out  of  my 
hammock,  having  first  ventured  to  draw  back  the  slipboard  on  the  roof 
already  mentioned,  contrived  on  purpose  to  let  in  air,  for  want  of  which 
I found  myself  almost  stifled. 

How  often  did  I then  wish  myself  with  my  dear  Glumdalclitch,  from 
whom  one  single  hour  had  so  far  divided  me  ! And  I may  say  with 


A VOYAGE  TO  BR0BD1NGNAG . 


83 

truth  that,  in  the  midst  of  my  own  misfortunes,  I could  not  forbear  la- 
menting my  poor  nurse, — the  grief  she  would  suffer  for  my  loss,  the 
displeasure  of  the  Queen,  and  the  ruin  of  her  fortune.  Perhaps  manj 
travellers  have  not  been  under  greater  difficulties  and  distress  than  I 
was  at  this  juncture,  expecting  every  moment  to  see  my  box  dashed  in 
pieces,  or  at  least  overset  by  the  first  violent  blast,  or  a rising  wave.  A 
breach  in  one  single  pane  of  glass  would  have  been  immediate  death, 
nor  could  anything  have  preserved  the  windows,  but  the  strong  lattice- 
wires  placed  on  the  outside  against  accidents  in  travelling.  I saw  the 
water  ooze  in  at  several  crannies,  although  the  leaks  were  not  considerable, 
and  I endeavoured  to  stop  them  as  well  as  I could.  I was  not  able  to 
lift  up  the  roof  of  my  closet,  which  otherwise  I certainly  should  have 
done,  and  sat  on  the  top  of  it,  where  I might,  at  least,  preserve  myself 
some  hours  longer  than  by  being  shut  up,  as  I may  call  it,  in  the  hold  ; 
or  if  I escaped  these  dangers  for  a day  or  two,  what  could  I expect  but 
a miserable  death  of  cold  and  hunger  ! I was  four  hours  under  these 
circumstances,  expecting,  and  indeed  wishing,  every  moment  to  be  my 
last. 

I have  already  told  the  reader  that  there  were  two  strong  staples  fixed 
upon  that  side  of  my  box  which  had  no  window,  and  into  which  the  ser- 
vant, who  used  to  carry  me  on  horseback,  would  put  a leathern  belt,  and 
buckle  it  about  his  waist.  Being  in  this  disconsolate  state  I heard,  or 
at  least  thought  I heard,  some  kind  of  grating  noise  on  that  side  of  my 
box  where  the  staples  were  fixed,  and  soon  after  I began  to  fancy  that 
the  box  was  pulled  or  towed  along  in  the  sea,  for  I now  and  then  felt  a 
sort  of  tugging  which  made  the  waves  rise  near  the  tops  of  my  windows, 
leaving  me  almost  in  the  dark.  This  gave  me  some  faint  hopes  of  re- 
lief, although  I was  not  able  to  imagine  how  it  could  be  brought  about. 

I ventured  to  unscrew  one  of  my  chairs,  which  were  always  fastened  to 
the  floor  ; and  having  made  a hard  shift  to  screw  it  down  again  directly 
under  the  slipping  board  that  I had  lately  opened,  I mounted  on  the 
chair,  and  putting  my  mouth  as  near  as  I could  to  the  hole,  I called  for 
help  in  a loud  voi  :e,  and  in  all  the  languages  I understood.  I then 
fastened  my  handkerchief  to  a stick  I usually  carried,  and  thrusting  it 
up  the  hole  waved  it  several  times  in  the  air,  that  if  any  boat  or  ship 
were  near,  the  seamen  might  conjecture  some  unhappy  mortal  to  be  shut 
up  in  this  box. 

I found  no  effect  from  all  I could  do,  but  plainly  perceived  my  closet 
to  be  moved  along ; and  in  the  space  of  an  hour  or  better  that  side  of  the 
box  where  the  staples  were,  and  had  no  window,  struck  against  some- 
thing that  was  hard.  I apprehended  it  to  be  a rock,  and  found  myself 
tossed  more  than  ever.  I plainly  heard  a noise  upon  the  cover  of  my 
closet  like  that  of  a cable,  and  the  grating  of  it  as  it  passed  through  the 
ring.  I then  found  myself  hoisted  up  by  degrees  at  least  three  foot 
higher  than  I was  before.  Whereupon  I again  thrust  up  my  stick  and 
handkerchiet,  calling  for  help  till  I was  almost  hoarse,  in  return  to  which 
I heard  a great  shout  repeated  three  times,  giving  me  such  transports  of 
joy  as  are  not  to  be  conceived  but  by  those  who  feel  them.  I now  heard 
atrampnngovermy  head,  and  somebody  calling  through  the  hole  with 
a loud  voice  in  the  English  tongue:  “ If  there  be  anybody  below  let  them 
speak.”  I answered  I was  an  Englishman,  drawn  by  ilf  fortune  into  the 


84 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


greatest  calamity  that  ever  any  creature  underwent,  and  begged,  by  all 
that  was  moving,  to  be  delivered  out -of  the  dungeon  I was  in.  The  voice 
replied  I was  safe,  for  my  box  was  fastened  to  their  ship  ; and  the  car- 
penter should  immediately  come  and  saw  a hole  in  the  cover  large 
enough  to  pull  me  out.  I answered,  that  was  needless,  and  would  take 
up  too  much  time,  for  there  was  no  more  to  be  done,  but  let  one  of  the 
crew  put  bis  finger  into  the  ring,  and  take  the  box  out  of  the  sea  into  the 
ship  and  so  into  the  captain’s  cabin.  Some  of  them  upon  hearing  me 
talk  so  wilcLly  thought  I was  mad;  others  laughed,  for  indeed  it  never 
came  into  my  head  that  I was  now  got  among  people  of  my  own 
stature  and  strength.  The  carpenter  came,  and  in  a few  minutes  sawed  i 
a passage  about  four  foot  square  ; then  let  down  a small  ladder,  upon 
which  I mounted,  and  from  thence  was  taken  into  the  ship  in  a very  weak 

condition.  , , . . , 

The  sailors  were  all  in  amazement,  and  asked  me  a thousand  ques- 
tions, which  I had  no  inclination  to  answer.  I was  equally  confounded 
at  the  sight  of  so  many  pigmies,  for  such  I took  them  to  be,  after  having 
so  long  accustomed  mv  eves  to  the  monstrous  objects  I had  left.  But 
the  captain,  Mr.  Thomas  Wilcocks,  an  honest  worthy  Shropshire  man, 
observing  I was  ready  to  faint,  took  me  into  his  cabin,  gave  me  a cordial 
to  comfort  me,  and  made  me  turn  in  upon  his  own  bed,  advising  me  to  j 
take  a little  rest,  of  which  I had  great  need.  Before  I went  to  sleep  I 
gave  him  to  understand  that  I had  some  valuable  furniture  in  my  box 
too  good  to  be  lost:  a fine  hammock,  an  handsome  field  bed,  two  chairs, 
a table,  and  a cabinet  ; that  my  closet  was  hung  on  all  sides,  or  rather! 
quilted  with  silk  and  cotton  ; that  if  he  would  let  one  of  the  crew  bring 
my  closet  into  his  cabin,  I would  open  it  there  before  him,  and  show  him 
my  goods.  The  captain  hearing  me  utter  these  absurdities  concluded' 
I was  raving.  However  (I  suppose  to  pacify  me),  he  promised  to  ghe 
order  as  I desired,  and  going  upon  deck  sent  some  of  his  men  down  into 
my  closet,  from  whence  (as  I afterwards  found)  they  drew  up  allmy  goods, 
and  stripped  off  the  quilting ; but  the  chair?,  cabinet,  and  bedstead  being 
screwed  to  the  floor,  were  much  damaged  by  the  ignorance  of  the  sea-; 
men.  who  tore  them  up  by  force.  Then  they  knocked  off  some  of  the, 
boards  for  the  use  of  the  ship,  and  when  they  had  got  all  they  had  a mind 
for,  let  the  hulk  drop  into  the  sea,  which  by  reason  of  many  breaches 
made  in  the  bottom  and  sides,  sunk  to  rights.  And  indeed  I was  glad, 
not  to  have  been  a spectator  of  the  havoc  they  made,  because  I am 
confident  it  would  have  sensibly  touched  me,  by  bringing  former  pas- 
sages into  my  mind  which  I had  rather  forget. 

I slept  some  hours,  but  perpetually  disturbed  with  dreams  of  the 
place  I had  left,  and  the  dangers  I had  escaped.  However,  upon  wak- 
ing, I found  myself  much  recovered.  It  was  now  about  eight  o’clock  al 
night,  and  the  captain  ordered  supper  immediately,  thinking  I had 
already  fasted  too  long.  He  entertained  me  with  great  kindness,  ob- 
serving me  not  to  look  wildly,  or  talk  inconsistently ; and  when  we  were 
left  alone,  desired  I would  give  him  a relation  of  my  travels,  and  by  whai 
accident  I came  to  be  set  adrift  in  that  monstrous  wooden  chest.  He 
said  that  about  twelve  o’clock  at  noon,  as  he  was  looking  through  hi< 
glass,  he  spied  it  at  a distance,  and  thought  it  was  a sail,  w'hich  he  had  2 
mind  to  make,  being  not  much  out  of  his  course,  in  hopes  of  buying 


A VOYAGE  TO  BR0BD1NGNAG. 


*5 

some  biscuit,  his  own  beginning  to  fall  short.  That  upon  coming  nearer, 
and  finding  his  error,  he  sent  out  his  long  boat  to  discover  what  I was  ; 
that  his  men  came  back  in  a fright,  swearing  they  had  seen  a swimming 
house.  That  he  laughed  at  their  folly,  and  went  himself  in  the  boat, 
ordering  his  men  to  take  a strong  cab.e  along  with  them.  That  the 
weather  being  calm  he  rowed  round  me  several  times,  observed  my 
windows,  and  the  wire-lattices  that  defended  them.  That  he  discovered 
two  staples  upon  one  side,  which  was  all  of  boards,  without  any  passage 
for  light.  He  then  commanded  his  men  to  row  up  to  that  side,  and 
fastening  a cable  to  one  of  the  staples,  ordered  them  to  row  my  chest, 
as  they  called  it,  towards  the  ship.  When  it  was  there,  he  gave  direc- 
tions to  fasten  another  cable  to  the  ring  fixed  in  the  cover,  and  to  raise 
up  my  chest  with  pulleys,  which  all  the  sailors  were  not  able  to  do  above 
two  or  three  foot.  He  said  they  saw  my  stick  and  handkerchief  thrust 
out  of  the  hole,  and  concluded  that  some  unhappy  men  must  be  shut 
up  in  the  cavity.  I asked  whether  he  or  the  crew  had  seen  any  prodi- 
gious birds  in  the  air  about  the  time  he  first  discovered  merto  which 
he  answered  that,  discoursing  this  matter  with  the  sailors  while  I was 
asleep,  one  of  them  said  he  had  observed  three  eagles  dying  towards  the 
north,  but  remarked  nothing  of  their  being  larger  than  the  usual  size, 
which  I suppose  must  be  imputed  to  the  great  height  they  were  at ; and 
he  could  not  guess  the  reason  of  my  question.  I then  asked  the  captain 
how  far  he  reckoned  we  might  be  from  land.  He  said,  by  the  best  com- 
putation he  could  make,  we  were  at  least  an  hundred  leagues.  I assured 
him  that  he  must  be  mistaken  by  almost  half,  for  1 had  not  left  the 
country  from  whence  I came  above  two  hours  before  I dropped  into  the 
sea  ; whereupon  he  began  again  to  think  that  my  brain  was  disturbed, 
of  which  he  gave  me  a hint,  and  advised  me  to  go  to  bed  in  a cabin  he 
had  provided.  I assured  him  I was  well  refreshed  with  his  good  enter- 
tainment and  company,  and  as  much  in  my  senses  as  ever  1 was  in  my 
life.  He  then  grew  serious,  and  desired  to  ask  me  freely  whether  I were 
not  troubled  in  mind  by  the  consciousness  of  some  enormous  crime,  for 
which  I was  punished  at  the  command  of  some  prince,  by  exposing  me 
in  that  chest,  as  great  criminals  in  other  countries  have  been  forced  to 
sea  in  a leaky  vessel  without  provisions  ; for,  although  he  should  be 
sorry  to  have  taken  so  ill  a man  into  his  ship,  yet  he  would  engage  his 
word  to  set  me  safe  on  shore  in  the  first  port  wnere  we  arrived.  He  added 
that  his  suspicions  were  much  increased  by  some  very  absurd  speeches 
I had  delivered  at  first  to  the  sailors,  and  afterwards  to  himself,  in  rela- 
tion to  my  closet  or  chest,  as  well  as  by  my  odd  looks  and  behaviour 
while  I was  at  supper. 

I begged  his  patience  to  hear  me  tell  my  story,  which  I faithfully  did 
from  the  last  time  I left  England  to  the  moment  he  first  discovered  me. 
And  as  truth  always  forceth  its  way  into  rational  minds,  so  this  honest 
worthy  gentleman,  who  had  some  tincture  of  learning,  and  very  good 
sense,  was  immediately  convinced  of  my  candour  and  veracity.  But 
further  to  confirm  all  I had  said,  I entreated  him  to  give  order  that  my 
cabinet  should  be  brought,  of  which  I had  the  key  in  my  pocket  (for 
he  had  already  informed  me  how  the  seamen  disposed  of  my  closet). 
1 opened  it  in  his  own  presence,  and  shewed  him  the  small  collection 
of  rarities  I made  in  the  country  from  wnence  1 had  been  so  strangely 


86 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


delivered.  There  was  the  comb  I had  contrived  out  of  the  stumps  of 
the  King's  beard,  and  another  of  the  same  materials,  but  fixed  into  a 
paring  of  her  Majesty's  thumb-nail,  which  served  for  the  back.  There 
was  a collection  of  needles  and  pins  from  a foot  to  half  a yard  long  : 
four  wasp  stings,  like  joiners'  tacks  : some  combings  of  the  Queen's  j 
hair  : a gold  ring  which  one  day  she  made  me  a present  of  in  a most 
obliging  manner,  taking  it  from  her  little  finger,  and  throwing  it  over 
my  head  like  a collar.  I desired  the  captain  would  please  to  accept 
this  ring,  in  return  of  his  civilities,  which  he  absolutely  refused.  I 
shewed  him  a corn  that  I had  cut  off  with  my  own  hand,  from  a maid  I 
of  honour's  toe,  it  was  about  the  bigness  of  a Kentish  pippin,  and  ! 
grown  so  hard,  that  when  I returned  to  England,  I got  it  hollowed  into  i. 
a cup,  and  set  in  silver.  Lastly,  I desired  him  to  see  the  breeches  I 
had  then  on,  which  were  made  of  a mouse's  skin. 

I could  force  nothing  on  him  but  a footman’s  tooth,  which  I observed 
him  to  examine  with  great  curiosity,  and  found  he  had  a fancy  for  it. 
He  received  it  with  abundance  of  thanks,  more  than  such  a trifle  could  i 
deserve.  It  was  drawn  by  an  unskilful  surgeon  in  a mistake  from  one  j 
of  Glumdalclitch's  men,  who  was  afflicted  with  the  toothache,  but  it  j 
was  as  sound  as  any  in  his  head.  I got  it  cleaned,  and  put  it  into  my  j 
cabinet.  It  was  about  a foot  long,  and  four  inches  in  diameter. 

The  captain  was  very  well  satisfied  with  this  plain  relation  I had  j 
given  him,  and  said,  he  hoped  when  we  returned  to  England,  I would 
oblige  the  world  by  putting  it  in  paper,  and  making  it  public.  My  ;j 
answer  was,  that  I thought  we  were  already  overstocked  with  books  | 
of  travels  : that  nothing  could  now  pass  which  "was  not  extraordi-  ; 
nary,  wherein  I doubted  some  authors  less  consulted  truth  than  | 
iheir  own  vanity,  or  interest,  or  the  diversion  of  ignorant  readers.  » 
That  my  story  could  contain  little  besides  common  events,  without 
hose  ornamental  descriptions  of  strange  plants,  trees,  birds,  and 
other  animals,  or  of  the  barbarous  customs  and  idolatry  of  savage 
People,  with  which  most  writers  abound.  However,  I thanked 
ffm  for  his  good  opinion,  and  promised  to  take  the  matter  into  my 
' noughts.  ? 

He  said,  he  wondered  at  one  thing  very  much,  which  was,  to  hear 
me  speak  so  loud,  asking  me  whether  the  King  or  Queen  of  that  - 
country  were  thick  ot  hearing.  I told  him,  it  was  what  I had  been 
used  to  for  above  two  years  past ; and  that  I admired  as  much  at  the 
voices  ot  him  and  his  men,  who  seemed  to  me  only  to  whisper,  and  yet  j 
1 could  hear  them  well  enough.  But  when  I spoke  in  that  country,  it 
was  like  a man  talking  in  the  street  to  another  looking  out  from  the  top 
of  a steeple,  unless  w>hen  I was  placed  on  a table,  or  held  in  any  person’s 
hand.  I told  him,  I had  likewise  observed  another  thing,  that  w^hen  I 
first  got  into  the  ship,  and  the  sailors  stood  all  about  me,  I thought  they 
were  the  most  little  contemptible  creatures  I had  ever  beheld.  For, 
indeed,  while  I was  in  that  prince’s  country,  I could  never  endure  to 
look  in  a glass  after  mine  eyes  had  been  accustomed  to  such  prodigious 
objects,  because  the  comparison  gave  me  so  despicable  a conceit  of 
nyselt.  The  captain  said,  that  while  we  were  at  supper,  he  observed 
me  to  look  at  everything  with  a sort  of  wonder,  and  that  I often  seemed 
Hardly  able  to  contain  my  laughter,  which  he  knew  not  well  how  to 


A VOYAGE  TO  BROBDINGNAG. 


87 


take,  but  imputed  it  to  some  disorder  in  my  brain.  I answered,  it  was 
very  true  ; and  I wondered  how  I could  forbear,  when  I saw  his  dishes 
of  the  size  of  a silver  threepence,  a leg  of  pork  hardly  a mouthful,  a 
cup  not  so  big  as  a nutshell ; and  so  I went  on,  describing  the  rest  of 
his  household  stuff  and  provisions  after  the  same  manner.  For  although 
the  Queen  had  ordered  a little  equipage  of  all  things  necessary  while  ^ 
was  in  her  service,  yet  my  ideas  were  wholly  taken  up  with  what  I saw 
on  every  side  of  me,  and  I winked  at  my  own  littleness  as  people  do  at 
their  own  faults.  The  captain  understood  my  raillery  very  well,  and 
merrily  replied  with  the  old  English  proverb,  that  he  doubted  mine  eyes 
were  bigger  than  my  belly,  for  he  did  not  observe  my  stomach  so  good, 
although  I had  fasted  all  day  ; and  continuing  in  his  mirth,  protested 
he  would  have  gladly  given  a hundred  pounds  to  have  seen  my  closet 
in  the  eagle’s  bill,  and  afterwards  in  its  fall  from  so  great  an  height  into 
the  sea ; which  would  certainly  have  been  a most  astonishing  object, 
worthy  to  have  the  description  of  it  transmitted  to  future  ages  : and  the 
comparison  of  Phaeton  was  so  obvious,  that  he  could  not  forbear  apply- 
ing it,  although  I did  not  much  admire  the  conceit. 

The  captain  having  been  at  Tonquin  was  in  his  return  to  England 
driven  north-eastward  to  the  latitude  of  44  degrees,  and  of  longitude 
143.  But  meeting  a trade  wind  two  days  after  I came  on  board  him, 
we  sailed  southward  a long  time,  and  coasting  New  Holland  kept  our 
course  west-south-west,  and  then  south-south- west  till  we  doubled  the 
Cape  of  Good  Hope.  Our  voyage  was  very  prosperous,  but  I shall  not 
trouble  the  reader  with  a journal  of  it.  The  captain  called  in  at  one 
or  two  ports  and  sent  in  his  longboat  for  provisions  and  fresh  water, 
but  I never  went  out  of  the  ship  till  we  came  into  the  Downs,  which  was 
on  the  3rd  day  of  June,  1706,  about  nine  months  after  my  escape.  1 
offered  to  leave  my  goods  in  security  for  payment  of  my  freight ; but 
the  captain  protested  he  would  not  receive  one  farthing.  We  took  kind 
leave  of  each  other,  and  I made  him  promise  he  would  come  to  see  me 
at  my  house  in  Redriff.  I hired  a horse  and  guide  for  five  shillings, 
which  I borrowed  of  the  captain. 

As  I was  on  the  road,  observing  the  littleness  of  the  houses,  the  trees, 
the  cattle,  and  the  people,  I began  to  think  myself  in  Lilliput.  I was 
afraid  of  trampling  on  every  traveller  I met,  and  often  called  aloud  to 
have  them  stand  out  of  the  way,  so  that  I had  like  to  have  gotten  one 
or  two  broken  heads  for  my  impertinence 

When  I came  to  my  own  house,  for  which  1 was  forced  to  enquire, 
one  of  the  servants  opening  the  door,  I bent  down  to  go  in  (like  a goose 
under  a gate)  for  fear  of  striking  my  head.  My  wife  ran  out  to  embrace 
me,  but  I stooped  lower  than  her  knees,  thinking  she  could  otherwise 
never  be  able  to  reach  my  mouth.  My  daughter  kneeled  to  ask  me 
blessing,  but  I could  not  see  her  till  she  arose,  having  been  so  long 
used  to  stand  with  my  head  and  eyes  erect  to  above  sixty  foot ; and 
then  I went  to  take  her  up  with  one  hand  by  the  waist.  I looked  down 
upon  the  servants  and  one  or  two  friends  who  were  in  the  house,  as  if 
they  had  been  pigmies,  and  I a giant.  I told  my  wife  she  had  been 
too  thrifty,  for  I found  she  had  starved  herself  and  her  daughter  to 
nothing.  In  short,  I behaved  myself  so  unaccountably,  that  they  were 
all  of  the  captain’s  opinion  when  he  first  saw  me,  and  concluded  I haa 


88 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


lost  my  wits.  This  I mention  as  an  instance  of  the  great  power  of 

a little  time  I and  my  family  and  friends  came  to  a right  under- 
standino  • but  my  wife  protested  I should  never  go  to  sea  any  more  ; 
although  my  evil  destiny  so  ordered  that  she  had  not  power  to  hmder 
me  as  the  reader  may  know  hereafter.  In  the  meantime  I here  con- 
clude the  second  part  of  my  unfortunate  voyages. 


VHS  END  OF  THE  SECOND  PAE& 


PART  III. 


A VOYAGE  TO  LAPUTA,  BALNIBARBT,  LUGGNAGG, 
GLUBBDUBDRIBB,  AND  JAPAN. 

CHAPTER  I. 

The  Author  sets  out  on  his  Third  Voyage  ; is  taken  by  Pirates.  The  Malice 
of  a Dutchman.  Hfis  arrival  at  an  Island.  He  is  received  into  Laputa. 

I HAD  not  been  at  home  above  ten  days,  when  Captain  William 
Robinson,  a Cornish  man,  commander  of  the  Hopewell,  a stout 
ship  of  three  hundred  tons,  came  to  my  house.  I had  formerly  been 
surgeon  of  another  ship  where  he  was  master,  and  a fourth  part  owner, 
in  a voyage  to  the  Levant ; he  had  always  treated  me  more  like  a brother 
than  an  inferior  officer,  and  hearing  of  my  arrival  made  me  a visit,  as 
I apprehended  only  out  of  friendship,  for  nothing  passed  more  than 
what  is  usual  after  long  absences.  But  repeating  his  visits  often,  ex- 
pressing his  joy  to  find  me  in  good  health,  asking  whether  I were  now 
settled  for  life,  adding  that  he  intended  a voyage  to  the  East  Indies, 
in  two  months.  At  last  he  plainly  invited  me,  though  with  some  apolo- 
gies, to  be  surgeon  of  the  ship  ; that  I should  have  another  surgeon 
under  me  besides  our  two  mates  ; that  my  salary  should  be  double  to  the 
usual  pay ; and  that  having  experienced  my  knowledge  in  sea-affairs  to 
be  at  least  equal  to  his,  he  would  enter  into  any  engagement  to  follow 
my  advice,  as  much  as  if  I had  share  in  the  command. 

He  said  so  many  other  obliging  things,  and  I knew  him  to  be  so 
honest  a man,  that  I could  not  reject  his  proposal  ; the  thirst  I had 
of  seeing  the  world,  notwithstanding  my  past  misfortunes,  continuing  as 
violent  as  ever.  The  only  difficulty  that  remained,  was  to  persuade  my 
wife,  whose  consent,  however,  I at  last  obtained  by  the  prospect  of  ad- 
vantage she  proposed  to  her  children. 

We  set  out  the  5th  day  of  August,  1706,  and  arrived  at  Fort  St.  George 
the  nth  of  April,  1707.  Stayed  there  three  weeks  to  refresh  our  crew. 


90 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


many  of  whom  were  sick.  From  thence  we  went  to  Tonquin,  where 
the  captain  resolved  to  continue  some  time,  because  many  of  the  goods 
he  intended  to  buy  were  not  ready,  nor  could  he  expect  to  be  dispatched 
in  some  months.  Therefore  in  hopes  to  defray  some  of  the  charges  he 
must  be  at,  he  bought  a sloop,  loaded  it  with  several  sorts  of  goods, 
wherewith  the  Tonquinese  usually  trade  to  the  neighbouring  islands, 
and  putting  fourteen  men  on  board,  whereof  three  were  of  the  country, 
he  appointed  me  master  of  the  sloop,  and  gave  me  power  to  traffic  for 
two  months,  while  he  transacted  his  affairs  at  Tonquin. 

We  had  not  sailed  above  three  days,  when  a great  storm  arising, 
we  were  driven  five  days  to  the  north-north-east,  and  then  to  the  east ; 
after  which  we  had  fair  weather,  but  still  with  a pretty  strong  gale  from 
the  west.  Upon  the  tenth  day  we  were  chased  by  two  pirates,  who 
soon  overtook  us  ; for  my  sloop  was  so  deep  loaden,  that  she  sailed  very 
slow,  neither  were  we  in  a condition  to  defend  ourselves. 

We  were  boarded  about  the  same  time  by  both  the  pirates,  who  en- 
tered furiously  at  the  head  of  their  men,  but  finding  us  all  prostrate 
upon  our  faces  (for  so  1 gave  order,)  they  pinioned  us  with  strong  ropes, 
and  setting  a guard  upon  us,  went  to  -search  the  sloop. 

I observed  among  them  a Dutchman,  who  seemed  to  be  of  some 
authority,  though  he  was  not  commander  of  either  ship.  He  knew  us  by 
our  countenances  to  be  Englishmen,  and  jabbering  to  us  in  his  own  lan- 
guage, swore  we  should  be  tied  back  to  back,  and  thrown  into  the  sea. 

I spoke  Dutch  tolerably  well  ; I told  him  who  we  were,  and  begged 
him,  in  consideration  of  our  being  Christians  and  Protestants,  of  neigh-  : 
bouring  countries,  in  strict  alliance,  that  he  would  move  the  captains  to 
take  some  pity  on  us.  This  inflamed  his  rage  ; he  repeated  his  threat- 
enings,  and,  turning  to  his  companions,  spoke  with  great  vehemence,  in 
the  Japanese  language,  as  I suppose,  often  using  the  word  Christianos. 

The  largest  of  the  two  pirate  ships  was  commanded  by  a Japanese 
captain,  who  spoke  a little  Dutch,  but  very  imperfectly.  He  came  up 
to  me,  and  after  several  questions,  which  I answered  in  great  humility, 
he  said  we  should  not  die.  I made  the  captain  a very  low  bow,  and 
then  turning  to  the  Dutchman,  said  I was  sorry  to  find  more  mercy  in 
a heathen  than  in  a brother  Christian.  But  I had  soon  reason  to  re- 
pent those  foolish  words,  for  that  malicious  reprobate,  having  often  en- 
deavoured in  vain  to  persuade  both  the  captains  that  I might  be  thrown' 
into  the  sea,  (which  they  would  not  yield  to  after  the  promise  made 
me,  that  I should  not  die),  however  prevailed  so  far  as  to  have  a punish- 
ment inflicted  on  me,  worse  in  all  human  appearance  than  death  itself. 
My  men  were  sent  by  an  equal  division  into  both  the  pirate  ships,  and 
my  sloop  new  manned.  As  to  myself,  it  was  determined  that  I should 
be  set  adrift  in  a small  canoe,  with  paddles  and  a sail,  and  four  da\s’ 
provisions,  which  last  the  Japanese  captain  was  so  kind  to  double  out 
of  his  own  stores,  and  would  permit  no  man  to  search  me.  I got  down  j 
into  the  canoe,  while  the  Dutchman  standing  upon  the  deck,  loaded  me 
with  all  the  curses  and  injurious  terms  his  language  could  afford. 

About  an  hour  before  we  saw  the  pirates  I had  taken  an  observation, 
and  found  we  were  in  the  latitude  of  46  N.  and  of  longitude  183.  ! 
When  I was  at  some  distance  from  the  pirates,  I discovered  by  my 
pocket-glass  several  islands  to  the  south-easL  I set  up  my  sail,  the 


A VOYAGE  TO  LA  PUT A,  <£rv. 


0* 


wind  being  fair,  with  a design  to  reach  the  nearest  of  those  islands, 
which  I made  a shift  to  do  in  about  three  hours.  It  was  all  rocky  ; 
however,  I got  many  birds’  eggs,  and  striking  fire  I kindled  some  heath 
and  dry  sea-weed,  by  which  I roasted  my  eggs.  I eat  no  other  supper, 
being  resolved  to  spare  my  provisions  as  much  as  I could.  I passed 
the  night  under  the  shelter  of  a rock,  strowing  some  heath  under  me, 
and  slept  pretty  well. 

The  next  day  I sailed  to  another  island,  and  thence  to  a third  and 
fourth,  sometimes  using  my  sail,  and  sometimes  my  paddles.  But  not 
to  trouble  the  reader  with  a particular  account  of  my  distresses,  let  it 
suffice,  that  on  the  fifth  day  I arrived  at  the  last  island  in  my  sight, 
which  lay  south-south-east  to  the  former. 

This  island  was  at  a greater  distance  than  I expected,  and  I did  not 
reach  it  in  less  than  five  hours.  I encompassed  it  almost  round  before 
I could  find  a convenient  place  to  land  in,  which  was  a small  creek, 
about  three  times  the  wideness  of  my  canoe.  I found  the  island*to  be  all 
rocky,  only  a little  intermingled  with  tufts  of  grass,  and  sweet-smelling 
herbs.  I took  out  my  small  provisions,  and  after  having  refreshed  my- 
self, I secured  the  remainder  in  a cave,  whereof  there  were  great  num- 
bers. I gathered  plenty  of  eggs  upon  the  rocks,  and  got  a quantity  of 
dry  sea-weed  and  parched  grass,  which  I designed  to  kindle  the  next 
day,  and  roast  my  eggs  as  well  as  I could  (for  I had  about  me  my 
flint,  steel,  match,  and  burning-glass).  I lay  all  night  in  the  cave  where 
I had  lodged  my  provisions.  My  bed  was  the  same  dry  grass  and  sea- 
weed which  I intended  for  fuel.  I slept  very  little,  for  the  disquiets  of  my 
mind  prevailed  over  my  weariness,  and  kept  me  awake.  I considered 
how  impossible  it  was  to  preserve  my  life  in  so  desolate  a place,  and 
how  miserable  my  end  must  be.  Yet  I found  myself  so  listless  and 
desponding,  that  I had  not  the  heart  to  rise,  and  before  I could  get  spirits 
enough  to  creep  out  of  my  cave,  the  day  was  far  advanced.  1 walked 
a while  among  the  rocks  ; the  sky  was  perfectly  clea%and  the  sun  so 
hot,  that  I was  forced  to  turn  my  face  from  it : when  all  on  a sudden  it 
became  obscured,  as  I thought,  in  a manner  very  different  from  what 
happens  by  the  interposition  of  a cloud.  I turned  back,  and  perceived 
a vast  opaque  body  between  me  and  the  sun,  moving  forward  towards 
the  island  : it  seemed  to  be  about  two  miles  high,  and  hid  the  sun  six 
or  seven  minutes  : but  I did  not  observe  the  air  to  be  much  colder,  or 
the  sky  more  darkened,  than  if  I had  stood  under  the  shade  of  a moun- 
tain. As  it  approached  nearer  over  the  place  where  I was,  it  appeared 
to  be  a firm  substance,  the  bottom  flat,  smooth,  and  shining  very  bright 
from  the  reflection  of  the  sea  below.  I stood  upon  a height  about  two 
hundred  yards  from  the  shore,  and  saw  this  vast  body  descending 
almost  to  a parallel  with  me,  at  less  than  an  English  mile  distance.  I 
took  out  my  pocket-perspective,  and  could  plainly  discover  numbers  of 
people  moving  up  and  down  the  sides  of  it,  which  appeared  to  be  slop- 
ing, but  what  those  people  were  doing,  I was  not  able  to  distinguish. 

The  natural  love  of  life  gave  me  some  inward  motions  of  joy,  and  I 
was  ready  to  entertain  a hope,  that  this  adventure  might  some  way 
or  other  help  to  deliver  me  from  the  desolate  place  and  condition  I was 
in.  But  at  the  same  time  the  reader  can  hardly  conceive  my  astonish- 
ment to  behold  an  island  in  the  air,  inhabited  by  men,  who  were  able 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


9* 

(as  it  should  seem),  to  raise,  or  sink,  or  put  it  into  a progressive  motion, 
as  they  pleased.  But  net  being  at  that  time  in  <t  disposition  to  philoso- 
phise upon  this  phenomenon,  I rather  chose  to  observe  what  course 
the  island  would  take,  because  it  seemed  for  a while  to  stand  still.  Yet 
soon  after  it  advanced  nearer,  and  I could  see  the  sides  of  it  encom- 
passed with  several  gradations  of  galleries  and  stairs,  at  certain  inter- 
vals, to  descend  from  one  to  the  other.  In  the  lowest  gallery  I beheld 
some  people  fishing  with  long  angling  rods,  and  others  looking  on.  I 
waved  my  cap  (for  my  hat  was  long  since  worn  out),  and  my  handker- 
chief towards  the  island  ; and,  upon  its  nearer  approach,  I called  and 
shouted  with  the  utmost  strength  of  my  voice,  and  then  looking  circum- 
spectly, I beheld  a crowd  gathered  to  that  side  which  was  most  in 
my  view.  I found  by  their  pointing  towards  me,  and  to  each  other, 
thet  they  plainly  discovered  me,  although  they  made  no  return  to  my 
shouting.  But  I could  see  four  or  five  men  running  in  great  haste  up 
the  stairs  to  the  top  of  the  island,  who  then  disappeared.  1 happened 
rightly  to  conjecture,  that  these  were  sent  for  orders  to  some  person  in 
authority  upon  this  occasion. 

The  number  of  people  increased,  and  in  less  than  half  an  hour  the 
island  was  moved  and  raised  in  such  a manner  that  the  lowest  gallery  j 
appeared  in  a parallel  of  less  than  an  hundred  yards  distance  from  the 
height  where  I stood.  I then  put  myself  into  the  most  supplicating 
postures,  and  spoke  in  the  humblest  accent,  but  received  no  answer. 
Those  who  stood  nearest  over-against  me,  seemed  to  be  persons  of  dis- 
tinction, as  I supposed  by  their  habit.  They  conferred  earnestly  with  : 
each  other,  looking  often  upon  me.  At  length  one  of  them  called  out  1 
in  a clear,  polite,  smooth,  dialect,  not  unlike  in  sound  to  the  Italian  : and 
therefore  I returned  an  answer  in  that  language,  hoping  at  least  that 
the  cadence  might  be  more  agreeable  to  his  ears.  Although  neither  of 
us  understood  the  other,  yet  my  meaning  was  easily  known,  for  the 
people  saw  the  jhstress  I was  in. 

They  made  s^ns  for  me  to  come  down  from  the  rock,  and  go  towards 
the  shoie,  which  I accordingly  did  ; and  the  flying  island  being  raised 
to  a convenient  height,  the  verge  directly  over  me,  a chain  was  let  down  , 
from  the  lowest  gallery  with  a seat  fastened  to  the  bottom,  to  which  I 
fixed  myself,  and  was  drawn  up  by  pulley?. 

CHAPTER  II.  1 

The  humours  and  dispositions  of  the  Laputians  described.  An  account  of  their 

learning.  Of  the  King  and  his  court.  The  author’s  reception  there.  The  q 

inhabitants  subject  to  fears  and  disquietudes.  An  account  of  the  women. 


AT  my  alighting  I was  surrounded  by  a crowd  of  people  ; but  those 
who  stood  nearest  seemed  to  be  of  better  quality.  They  beheld 
me  with  all  the  marks  and  circumstances  of  wonder  ; neither  indeed 
was  I much  in  their  debt,  having  never  till  then  seen  a race  of  mortals 
so  singular  in  their  shapes,  habits,  and  countenances.  Their  heads 
were  all  reclined  either  to  the  right  or  the  left ; one  of  their  eyes  turned  j 
inward,  and  the  other  directly  up  to  the  zenith.  Their  outward  garments 
were  adorned  with  the  figures  of  suns,  moons,  and  stars,  interwoven 
with  those  of  fiddles,  flutes,  harps,  trumpets,  guitars,  harpsicords,  and 

• ~ T 


A VOYAGE  TO  LA  PUT  A, 


93 


here  and  there  many  in  the  habit  of  servants,  with  a blown  bladdei 
fastened  like  a flail  to  the  end  of  a short  stick,  which  they  carried  in 
their  hands.  In  each  bladder  was  a small  quantity  of  dried  pease,  oi 
little  pebbles  (as  I was  afterwards  informed).  With  these  bladders 
they  now  and  then  slapped  the  mouths  and  ears  of  those  who  stood 
near  them,  of  which  practice  I could  not  then  conceive  the  meaning. 
It  seems  the  minds  of  these  people  are  so  taken  up  with  intense  specu- 
lations, that  they  neither  can  speak  nor  attend  to  the  discourses  of  others 
without  being  roused  by  some  external  taction  upon  the  organs  of  speech 
and  hearing,  for  which  reason  those  persons  who  are  able  to  afford  it 
always  keep  a Flapper  (the  original  is  Climenole)  in  their  family  as  one 
of  their  domestics,  nor  ever  walk  abroad  or  make  visits  without  him. 
And  the  business  of  this  officer  is,  when  two  or  three  more  persons  are 
in  company,  gently  to  strike  with  his  bladder  the  mouth  of  him  who  is 
to  speak,  and  the  right  ear  of  him  or  them  to  whom  the  speaker  ad- 
dresseth  himself.  This  flapper  is  likewise  employed  diligently  to  attend 
his  master  in  his  walks,  and  upon  occasion  to  give  him  a soft  flap  on  his 
eyes,  because  he  is  always  so  wrapped  up  in  cogitation  that  he  is  in  ma- 
nifest danger  of  falling  down  every  precipice,  and  bouncing  his  head 
against  every  post,  and  in  the  streets  of  justling  others,  or  being  justled 
himself  into  the  kennel. 

It  was  necessary  to  give  the  reader  this  information,  without  which 
he  would  be  at  the  same  loss  with  me  to  understand  the  proceedings  of 
these  people,  as  they  conducted  me  up  the  stairs  to  the  top  of  the  island, 
and  from  thence  to  the  royal  palace.  While  we  were  ascending  they  forgot 
several  timeswhat  they  were  about,  and  left  me  to  myself,  till  their  memo- 
ries were  again  roused  by  their  flappers  ; for  they  appeared  altogether 
unmoved  by  the  sight  of  my  foreign  habit  and  countenance,  and  by  the 
shouts  of  the  vulgar,  whose  thoughts  and  minds  were  more  disengaged. 

At  last  we  entered  the  palace,  and  proceeded  into  the  chamber  of 
presence,  where  I saw  the  King  seated  on  his  throne,  attended  on  each 
side  by  persons  of  prime  quality.  Before  the  throne  was  a large  table 
filled  with  globes  and  spheres,  and  mathematical  instruments  of  all  kinds. 
Hisjjdajesty  took  not  the  least  notice  of  us,  although  our  entrance  was 
not  withour‘sufficient  noise  by  the  concourse  of  all  persons  belong 
ing  to  the  court.  But  he  was  then  deep  in  a problem,  and  we  attended 
at  least  an  hour  before  he  could  solve  it.  There  stood  by  him  on  each 
side  a young  page  with  flaps  in  their  hands,  and  when  they  saw  he 
was  at  leisure  one  of  them  gently  struck  his  mouth,  and  the  other  his 
right  ear,  at  which  he  started  like  one  awaked  on  the  sudden  ; and  look- 
ing towards  me,  and  the  company  I was  in,  recollected  the  occasion  of 
our  coming,  whereof  he  had  been  informed  before.  He  spoke  some 
words,  whereupon  immediately  a young  man  with  a flap  came  up  to  my 
side,  and  flapped  me  gently  on  the  right  ear,  but  I made  signs  as  well 
as  I could  that  I had  no  occasion  for  such  an  instrument,  which,  as  1 
afterwards  found,  gave  his  Majesty  and  the  whole  court  a very  mean 
opinion  of  my  understanding.  The  King,  as  far  as  I could  conjecture, 
asked  me  several  questions,  and  I addressed  myself  to  him  in  all  the 
languages  I had.  When  it  was  found  that  I could  neither  understand 
nor  be  understood,  I was  conducted  by  the  King's  order  to  an  apart- 
ment in  his  palace  (this  prince  being  distinguished  above  all  his  prede 


94 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


censors  for  his  hospitality  to  strangers),  where  two  servants  were  ap- 
pointed to  attend  me.  My  dinner  was  brought ; and  four  persons  of 
quality,  whom  I remembered  to  have  seen  very  near  the  King’s  person, 
did  me  the  honour  to  dine  with  me.  We  had  two  courses  of  three 
dishes  each.  In  the  first  course  there  was  a shoulder  of  mutton  cut  into 
an  equilateral  triangle,  a piece  of  beef  into  a rhomboides,  and  a pudding 
into  a cycloid.  The  second  course  was  two  ducks,  trussed  up  into 
the  form  of  fiddles,  sausages  and  puddings  resembling  flutes  and  haut- 
ooys,  and  a breast  of  veal  in  the  shape  of  a harp.  The  servants  cut  our 
bread  into  cones,  cylinders,  parallelograms,  and  several  other  mathe- 
natical  figures. 

While  we  were  at  dinner  I made  bold  to  ask  the  names  of  several 
filings  in  their  language,  and  those  noble  persons,  by  the  assistance  of 
their  flappers,  delighted  to  give  me  answers,  hoping  to  raise  my  admira- 
tion of  their  great  abilities  if  I could  be  brought  to  converse  with  them. 
I was  soon  able  to  call  for  bread  and  drink,  or  whatever  else  I wanted. 

After  dinner  my  company  withdrew,  and  a person  was  sent  to  me  by 
the  King’s  order,  attended  by  a flapper.  He  brought  with  him  pen, 
ink,  and  paper,  and  three  or  four  books,  giving  me  to  understand  by 
signs  that  he  was  sent  to  teach  me  the  language.  We  sat  together  four 
hours,  in  which  time  I wrote  down  a great  number  of  words  in  columns, 
with  the  translations  over  against  them.  I likewise  made  a shift  to 
learn  several  short  sentences,  for  my  tutor  would  order  one  of  my  ser- 
vants to  fetch  something,  or  turn  about,  to  make  a bow,  to  sit,  or  stand, 
or  walk,  and  the  like.  Then  I took  down  the  sentence  in  writing.  He 
showed  me,  also,  in  one  of  his  books,  the  figures  of  the  sun,  moon,  and 
stars,  the  zodiac,  the  tropics,  and  polar  circles,  together,  with  the  de- 
nominations of  many  figures  of  planes  and  solids.  He  gave  me  the 
names  and  descriptions  of  all  the  musical  instruments,  and  the  general 
terms  of  art  in  playing  on  each  of  them.  After  he  had  left  me  I placed 
all  my  words  with  their  interpretations  in  alphabetical  order.  And  thus, 
in  a few  days,  by  the  help  of  a very  faithful  memory,  I got  some  insight 
into  their  language. 

The  word  which  I interpret  the  flying  or  floating  island  is,  in  the  ori- 
ginal, Laputa,  whereof  I could  never  learn  the  true  etymology.  Lap,  in 
tne  old  obsolete  language,  signifieth  high;  and  Untuh,  a governor,  from 
which,  they  say,  by  corruption  was  derived  Laputa  from  Lapuntuh  ; but 
I do  not  approve  of  this  derivation,  which  seems  to  be  a little  strained. 
I ventured  to  offer  to  the  learned  among  them  a conjecture  of  my  own, 
that  Laputa  was  quasi  Lap  Outed,  Lap  signifying  properly  the  dancing 
of  the  sunbeams  in  the  sea,  and  Outed  a wing  ; which,  however,  I shall 
not  obtrude,  but  submit  to  the  judicious  reader. 

Those  to  whom  the  King  had  entrusted  me,  observing  how  ill  I was 
clad,  ordered  a tailor  to  come  next  morning,  and  take  my  measure  for  a 
suit  of  clothes.  This  operator  did  his  office  after  a different  manner 
from  those  of  his  trade  in  Europe.  He  first  took  my  altitude  by  a 
quadrant,  and  then  with  rule  and  compasses  described  the  dimensions 
vnd  outlines  of  my  whole  body,  all  which  he  entered  upon  paper,  and 
*n  six  days  brought  my  clothes  very  ill  made,  and  quite  out  of  shape  by 
happening  to  mistake  a figure  in  the  calculation.  But  my  comfort  was 
ffiat  I observed  such  accidents  very  frequent,  and  little  regarded. 


A VOYAGE  TO  LA  PUT  A,  <&v. 


9? 


During  my  confinement  for  want  of  clothes,  and  by  an  lndisposit 
that  held  me  some  days  longer,  I much  enlarged  my  dictionary  ; and 
when  I went  next  to  court  was  able  to  understand  many  things  the  King 
spale  aTd  to  return  him  some  kind  of  answers.  His  Majesty  had  given 
orders  that  the  island  should  move  north-east  and  by  east  to  the  vertical 
point  over  Lagado,  the  metropolis  of  the  whole  kingdom  below  upon  the 
firm  earth.  It  was  about  ninety  leagues  distant,  and  our  voyage  las  e 
four  days  and  a half.  I was  not  in  the  least  sensible  of  the  progressive 
motion  made  in  the  air  by  the  island.  On  the  second  moving  about 
eleven  o’clock,  the  King  himself  m person,  attended  by  his  nobility, 
courtiers,  and  officers,  having  prepared  all  their  musical  instruments^ 
played  on  them  for  three  hours  without  intermission,  so  that  I was  quite 
stunned  with  the  noise  ; neither  could  I possibly  guess  the  meaning  ti 
my  tutor  informed  me.  He  said  that  the  people  of  their  island  had  the,r 
ears  adapted  to  hear  the  music  of  the  spheres,  g 

certain  periods,  and  the  court  was  now  prepared  to  bear  their  part  m 
whatever  instrument  they  most  excelled.  , ......  j . j 

• In  our  journey  towards  Lagado,  the  capital  city,  his  Majesty  ordered 
that  the  island  should  stop  over  certain  towns  villages,  from  whence 
he  might  receive  the  petitions  of  his  subjects.  And  to  this  purpose  se 
veral  packthreads  were  let  down  with  small  weights  at  the  bottom.  On 
these  packthreads  the  people  strung  their  Pftmons,  which ^ 
directly  like  the  scraps  of  paper  fastened  by  schoolboys  at  ^ d 
the  string  that  holds  their  kite.  Sometimes  we  received  wme  ana 
victuals  from  below,  which  were  drawn  up  by  pulleys.  . • 

The  knowledge  I had  in  mathematics  gave  me  great  assistance  m 

acquiring  their  phraseology,  which  depended  much  upon  t a scien 

and  music  ; and  in  the  latter  I was  not  unskilled.  Their  ideas  aie  per 
-petually  conversant  in  lines  and  figures.  If  they  wouid,  for  ex^p^ 
praise  the  beauty  of  a woman,  or  any  other  animal,  they  describe  t y 
rhombs,  circles,  parallelograms,  ellipses  and  other  geometrical  terms  o 
by  words  of  art  drawn  from  music,  needless  here  to  repeat  ^served 
in  the  King’s  kitchen  all  sorts  of  mathematical  and  musical  instruments 
after  the  figures  of  which  they  cut  up  the  joints  that  were  served  to  his 

M^hdr  houses  are  very  ill  built;  the  walls  bevel  without  one  right 
angle  in  any  apartment ; and  this  defect  ariseth  from  the  contempt  they  V 
bear  to  practical  geometry,  which  they  despise  as  vuigar  and  mechanic,  X 
those  instructions  they  give  being  too  refined  for  the  mteUectual 
workmen,  which  occasions  perpetual  mistakes  And  althou  h they 
are  dexterous  enough  upon  a piece  of  paper  in  the  °f; 

rule,  the  pencil,  and  the  divider,  yet  in  the  common  actions  and  benaviour 
of  life,  I have  not  seen  a more  clumsy,  awkward,  and  s’ 

nor  so  slow  and  perplexed  in  their  conceptions  upon  all  other  subjects, 
except  those  of  mathematics  and  music.  They  are  very  bad  reasoners, 
and  vehemently  given  to  opposition  unless  when  they  t°be°d 

the  right  opinion,  which  is  seldom  their  case.  Imagination,  fancy  and 
invention  they  a’re  wholly  strangers  to,  nor  have  any  words  in ^their 
language  by  which  those  ideas  can  be  expressed  ; the  whole  compass 
of  their  thoughts  and  mind  being  shut  up  within  the  two  forementioned 
sciences. 


0 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


Most  of  them,  and  especially  those  who  deal  in  the  astronomical  part, 
have  great  faith  in  judicial  astrology,  although  they  are  ashamed  to  own 
it  publicly.  But  what  I chiefly  admired  and  thought  altogether  unac- 
countable, was  the  strong  disposition  I observed  in  them  towards  news 
and  politics,  perpetually  inquiring  into  public  affairs,  giving  their  judg- 
ments in  matters  of  State,  and  passionately  disputing  every  inch  of 
a party  opinion.  I have  indeed  observed  the  same  disposition  among 
most  of  the  mathematicians  I have  known  in  Europe,  although  I could 
never  discover  the  least  analogy  between  the  two  sciences,  unless  those 
people  suppose  that,  because  the  smallest  circle  hath  as  many  degrees 
as  the  largest,  therefore  the  regulation  anjl  management  of  the  world 
require  no  more  abilities  than  the  handling  and  turning  of  a globe;  but 
I rather  take  this  quality  to  spring  from  a very  common  infirmity  of 
human  nature,  inclining  us  to  be  more  curious  and  conceited  in  matters 
where  we  have  least  concern,  and  for  which  we  are  least  adapted  either 
by  study  or  nature. 

These  people  are  under  continual  disquietudes,  never  enjoying  a 
minute’s  peace  of  mind ; and  their  disturbances  proceed  from  causes 
which  very  little  affect  the  rest  of  mortals.  Their  apprehensions  arise 
from  several  changes  they  dread  in  the  celestial  bodies.  For  instance, 
that  the  earth  by  the  continual  approaches  of  the  sun  towards  it,  must 
in  course  of  time  be  absorbed  or  swallowed  up.  That  the  face  of  the  sun 
will,  by  degrees,  be  encrusted  with  its  own  effluvia,  and  give  no  more 
light  to  the  world.  That  the  earth  very  narrowly  escaped  a brush  from 
the  tail  of  the  last  comet,  which  would  have  infallibly  reduced  it  to 
ashes  ; and  that  the  next,  which  they  have  calculated  for  one  and  thirty 
years  hence,  will  probably  destroy  us.  For,  if  in  its  perihelign  it  should 
approach  within  a certain  degree  of  the  sun,  (as  by  their  calculations 
they  have  reason  to  dread),  it  will  conceive  a degree  of  heat  ten  thousand 
times  more  intense  than  that,  of  red-hot  glowing  iron  ; and  in  its  ab- 
sence from  the  sun  carry  a blazing  tail  ten  hundred  thousand  and  four- 
teen miles  long  ; through  which,  if  the  earth  should  pass  at  the  dis- 
tance of  one  hundred  thousand  miles  from  the  nucleus  or  main  body  of 
the  comet,  it  must  in  its  passage  be  set  on  fire,  and  reduced  to  ashes. 
That  the  sun  daily  spending  its  rays  without  any  nutriment  to  supply 
them,  will  at  last  be  wholly  consumed  and  annihilated  : which  must  be 
attended  with  the  destruction  of  this  earth,  and  of  all  the  planets  that 
S receive  their  light  from  it. 

They  are  so  perpetually  alarmed  with  the  apprehensions  of  these  and 
the  like  impending  dangers,  that  they  can  neither  sleep  quietly  in  their 
beds,  nor  have  any  relish  for  the  common  pleasures  or  amusements  of 
life.  When  they  meet  an  acquaintance  in  the  morning,  the  first  question 
is  about  the  sun’s  health,  how  he  looked  at  his  setting  and  rising,  and 
what  hopes  they  have  to  avoid  the  stroke  of  the  approaching  comet. 
This  conversation  they  are  apt  to  run  into  with  the  same  temper  that 
boys  discover  in  delighting  to  hear  terrible  stories  of  spirits  and  hob- 
goblins, which  they  greedily  listen  to,  and  dare  not  go  to  bed  for  fear. 

The  women  of  the  island  have  abundance  of  vivacity  ; they  contemn 
their  husbands,  and  are  exceedingly  fond  of  strangers,  whereof  there  is 
always  a considerable  number  from  the  continent  below,  attending  at 
court,  either  upon  affairs  of  the  several  towns  and  corporations,  or  tneir 


A VOYAGE  TO  LAPUTA,  &e. 


9? 


own  particular  occasions,  but  are  much  despised,  because  they  want 
the  same  endowments.  Among  these  the  ladies  choose  their  gallants  ; 
but  the  vexation  is  that  they  act  with  too  much  ease  and  security,  for 
the  husband  is  always  so  wrapt  in  speculation,  that  the  mistress  and 
lover  may  proceed  to  the  greatest  familiarities  before  his  face,  if  he  be 
but  provided  with  paper  and  implements,  and  without  his  flapper  at  his 
side. 

The  wives  and  daughters  lament  their  confinement  to  the  island, 
although  I think  it  the  most  delicious  spot  of  ground  in  the  world  ; 
and  although  they  live  here  in  the  greatest  plenty  and  magnificence, 
and  are  allowed  to  do  whatever  they  please,  they  long  to  see  the  world, 
and  take  the  diversions  of  the  metropolis,  which  they  are  not  allowed  to  do 
without  a particular  licence  from  the  king  ; and  this  is  not  easily  to  be 
obtained,  because  the  people  of  quality  have  found,  by  frequent  expe- 
rience, how  hard  it  is  to  persuade  their  women  to  return  from  below.  I 
was  told  that  a great  court  lady,  who  had  several  children,  is  married 
to  the  Prime  Minister,  the  richest  subject  in  the  kingdom,  a very  grace- 
ful person,  extremely  fond  of  her,  and  lives  in  the  finest  palace  of  the 
island,  went  down  to  Lagado,  on  the  pretence  of  health,  there  hid  her- 
self for  several  months,  till  the  king  sent  a warrant  to  search  for  her, 
and  she  was  found  in  an  obscure  eating-house  all  in  rags,  having 
pawned  her  clothes  to  maintain  an  old  deformed  footman,  who  beat  her 
every  day,  and  in  whose  company  she  was  taken  much  against  her  will. 

And  although  her  husband  received  her  with  all  possible  kindness,  and 
without  the  least  reproach,  she  soon  after  contrived  to  steal  down  again, 
with  all  her  jewels,  to  the  same  gallant,  and  hath  not  been  heard  of  since. 

This  may,  perhaps,  pass  with  the  reader  rather  for  an  European  or 
English  story,  than  for  one  of  a country  so  remote  : but  he  may  please 
to  consider  that  the  caprices  of  womenkind  are  not  limited  by  any  i 
climate  or  nation,  and  that  they  are  much  more  uniform  than  can  be 
easily  imagined. 

In  about  a months  time  I had  made  a tolerable  proficiency  in  their 
language,  and  was  able  to  answer  most  of  the  King’s  questions,  when  I 
had  the  honour  to  attend  him.  His  Majesty  discovered  not  the  least 
curiosity  to  inquire  into  the  laws,  government,  history,  religion,  or  man-  • 
ners  of  the  countries  where  I had  been,  but  confined  his  questions  to 
the  state  of  mathematics,  and  received  the  account  I gave  him  with 
great  contempt  and  indifference,  though  often  roused  by  his  flapper  on  x 
each  side* 

CHAPTER  IIL 

A Phenomenon  solved  by  modern  Philosophy  and  Astronomy.  The  Laputians* 
great  Improvements  in  the  latter.  The  King’s  Method  of  suppressing  Insur- 
rections. 

I DESIRED  leave  of  this  prince  to  see  the  curiosities  of  the  island, 
which  he  was  graciously  pleased  to  grant,  and  ordered  my  tutor  to 
attend  me.  I chiefly  wanted  to  know  to  what  cause  in  art,  or  in  nature, 
it  owed  its  several  motions,  whereof  I will  now  give  a philosophical 
account  to  the  reader. 

The  flying  or  floating  island  is  exactly  circular,  its  diameter  7,837 

7 


98 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


yards,  or  about  four  miles  and  an  half,  and  consequently  contains  ten 
thousand  acres.  It  is  three  hundred  yards  thick.  The  bottom  or 
under  surface,  which  appears  to  those  who  view  it  from  below,  is  one 
even  regular  plate  of  adamant,  shooting  up  to  the  height  of  about  two 
hundred  yards.  Above  it  lie  the  several  minerals  in  their  usual  order, 
andover  all  is  a coat  of  rich  mould  ten  or  twelve  foot  deep.  This  declivity 
of  the  upper  surface,  from  the  circumference  to  the  centre,  is  the  natu- 
ral cause  why  all  the  dews  and  rains  which  fall  upon  the  island,  are 
conveyed  in  small  rivulets  towards  the  middle,  where  they  are  emptied 
into  four  large  basins,  each  of  about  half  a mile  in  circuit,  and  two 
hundred  yards  distant  from  the  centre.  From  these  basins  the  water 
is  continually  exhaled  by  the  sun  in  the  day-time,  which  effectually 
prevents  their  overflowing.  Besides,  as  it  is  in  the  power  of  the 
Monarch  to  raise  the  island  above  the  region  of  clouds  and  vapours,  he 
can  prevent  the  falling  of  dews  and  rains  whenever  he  pleases  : for  the 
highest  clouds  cannot  rise  above  two  miles,  as  naturalists  agree,  at  least 
they  were  never  known  to  do  in  that  country. 

At  the  centre  of  the  island  there  is  a chasm  about  fifty  yards  in  dia- 
meter, from  whence  the  astronomers  descend  into  a large  dome,  which 
is  therefore  called  Flandona  Gagnole,  or  the  Astronomer’s  Cave,  situ- 
ated at  the  depth  of  a hundred  yards  beneath  the  upper  surface  of  the 
adamant.  In  this  cave  are  twenty  lamps  continually  burning,  which 
from  the  reflection  of  the  adamant  cast  a strong  light  into  every  part. 
The  place  is  stored  with  great  variety  of  sextants,  quadrants,  telescopes,  j 
astrolabes,  and  other  astronomical  instruments.  But  the  greatest  cu- 
riosity, upon  which  the  fate  of  the  island  depends,  is  a loadstone  of  a 
prodigious  size,  in  shape  resembling  a weaver’s  shuttle.  It  is  in  length  i 
six  yards,  and  in  the  thickest  part  at  least  three  yards  over.  This 
magnet  is  sustained  by  a very  strong  axle  of  adamant  passing  through 
its  middle,  upon  which  it  plays,  and  is  poised  so  exactly,  that  the 
weakest  hand  can  turn  it.  It  is  hooped  round  with  an  hollow  cylinder 
of  adamant,  four  foot  deep,  as  many  thick,  and  twelve  yards  in  diame- 
ter, placed  horizontally,  and  supported  by  eight  adamantine  feet,  each 
six  yards  high.  In  the  middle  of  the  concave  side  there  is  a groove 
• twelve  inches  dee$,  in  which  the  extremities  of  the  axle  are  lodged,  and 
turned  round  as  there  is  occasion. 

The  stone  cannot  be  moved  from  its  place  by  any  force,  because  the 
hoop  and  its  feet  are  one  continued  piece  with  that  body  of  adamant, 
wnich  constitutes  the  bottom  of  the  island. 

By  means  of  this  loadstone,  the  island  is  made  to  rise  and  fall,  and 
move  from  one  place  to  another.  For,  with  respect  to  that  part  of  the 
earth  over  which  the  Monarch  presides,  the  stone  is  endued  at  one  of 
its  sides  with  an  attractive  power,  and  at  the  other  with  a repulsive. 
Upon  placing  the  magnet  erect  with  its  attracting  end  towards  the 
earth,  the  island  descends  ; but  when  the  repelling  extremity  points 
downwards,  the  island  mounts  directly  upwards.  When  the  position 
of  the  stone  is  oblique,  the  motion  of  the  island  is  so  too.  For  in  this 
magnet  the  forces  always  act  in  lines  parallel  to  its  direction. 

By  this  oblique  motion  the  island  is  conveyed  to  different  parts 
of  the  Monarch^  dominions.  To  explain  the  manner  of  its  progress, 
let  A B represent  a line  drawn  cross  the  dominions  of  Balnibarbi,  let 


Tlra  Library 

of  the 

University  of  lltimm 


H 


A VOYAGE  TO  LAPUTA , <5 *r. 


99 


the  line  c d represent  the  loadstone,  of  which  let  d be  the  repelling 
end,  and  c the  attracting  end  ; the  island  being  over  C,  let  the  stone 
be  placed  in  the  position  c d,  with  its  repelling  end  downwards,  then 
the  island  will  be  driven  upwards  obliquely  towards  D.  When  it  is  ar- 
rived at  D,  let  the  stone  be  turned  upon  its  axle  till  its  attracting  end 
points  towards  E,  and  then  the  island  will  be  carried  obliquely  towards 
E,  where,  if  the  stone  be  again  turned  upon  its  axle  till  it  stands  in  the 
position  E F,  with  its  repelling  point  downwards,  the  island  will  rise 
obliquely  towards  F,  where,  by  directing  the  attracting  end  towards 
G,  the  island  may  be  carried  to  G,  and  from  G to  H,  by  turning  the 
stone,  so  as  to  make  its  repelling  extremity  point  directly  downwards. 
And  thus  by  changing  the  situation  of  the  stone  as  often  as  there  is 
occasion,  the  island  is  made  to  rise  and  fall  by  turns  in  an  oblique  di- 
rection ; and  by  those  alternate  risings  and  fallings  (the  obliquity  being 
not  considerable)  is  conveyed  from  one  part  of  the  dominions  to  theother. 

But  it  must  be  observed,  that  this  island  cannot  move  beyond  the 
extent  of  the  dominions  below,  nor  can  it  rise  above  the  height  of  four 
miles.  For  which  the  astronomers  (who  have  written  large  systems 
concerning  the  stone)  assign  the  following  reason  : that  the  magnetic 
virtue  does  not  extend  beyond  the  distance  of  four  miles,  and  that  the 
mineral  which  acts  upon  the  stone  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth,  and  in 
the  sea  about  six  leagues  distant  from  the  shore,  is  not  diffused  through 
the  whole  globe,  but  terminated  with  the  limits  of  the  King's  dominions; 
and  it  was  easy,  from  the  great  advantage  of  such  a superior  situation, 
for  a prince  to  bring  under  his  obedience  whatever  country  lay  within 
the  attraction  of  that  magnet. 

When  the  stone  is  put  parallel  to  the  plane  of  the  horizon,  the  island 
standeth  still ; for  in  that  case,  the  extremities  of  it  being  at  equal 
distance  from  the  earth,  act  with  equal  force,  the  one  in  drawing 
downwards,  the  other  in  pushing  upwards,  and  consequently  no  motion 
can  ensue. 

This  loadstone  is  under  the  care  of  certain  astronomers,  who  from 
time  to  time  give  it  such  positions  as  the  monarch  directs.  They  spend 
the  greatest  part  of  their  lives  in  observing  the  celestial  bodies,  which 
they  do  by  the  assistance  of  glasses  far  excelling  ours  in  goodness. 
For  this  advantage  hath  enabled  them  to  extend  toe  discoveries  much 
farther  than  our  astronomers  in  Europe  ; for  they  have  made  a cata- 
logue of  ten  thousand  fixed  stars ; whereas  the  largest  of  ours  do  not 
contain  above  one  third  part  of  that  number.  They  have  likewise  dis- 
covered two  lesser  stars,  or  satellites,  which  revolve  about  Mars,  whereof 
the  innermost  is  distant  from  the  centre  of  the  primary  planet  exactly 
three  of  his  diameters,  and  the  outermost  five  ; the  former  revolves  in 
the  space  of  ten  hours,  and  the  latter  in  twenty-one  and  an  half ; so  that 
the  squares  of  their  periodical  times  are  very  near  in  the  same  propor- 
tion with  the  cubes  of  their  distance  from  the  centre  of  Mars,  which 
evidently  shews  them  to  be  governed  by  th^same  law  of  gravitation 
that  influences  the  other  heavenly  bodies.  A 7 

They  have  observed  ninety-three  different  cofnets,  and  settled  their 
periods  with  great  exactness.  If  this  be  true  (and  they  affirm  it  with 
great  confidence),  it  is  much  to  be  wished  that  their  observations  were 
made  public,  whereby  the  theory  of  comets,  which  at  present  is  very 

7-2 


too  DEAN  SWIFT9 S WORKS. 

lame  and  defective,  might  be  brought  to  the  same  perfection  with  othei 
parts  of  astronomy. 

The  King  would  be  the  most  absolute  prince  in  the  universe,  if  he 
could  but  prevail  on  a ministry  to  join  with  him  ; but  these  having  their 
estates  below  on  the  continent,  and  considering  that  the  office  of  a 
favourite  hath  a very  uncertain  tenure,  would  never  consent  to  the  en- 
slaving th^ir  country. 

If  any  town  should  engage  in  rebellion  or  mutiny,  fall  into  violent 
factions,  or  refuse  to  pay  the  usual  tribute,  the  King  hath  two  methods 
of  reducing  them  to  obedience.  The  first  and  the  mildest  course  is  by 
keeping  the  island  hovering  over  such  a town,  and  the  lands  about  it, 
whereby  he  can  deprive  them  of  the  benefit  of  the  sun  and  the  rain, 
and  consequently  afflict  the  inhabitants  with  death  and  diseases.  And. 
if  the  crime  deserve  it,  they  are  at  the  same  time  pelted  from  above 
with  great  stones,  against  which  they  have  no  defence  but  by  creeping 
into  cellars  or  caves,  while  the  roofs  of  their  houses  are  beaten  to 
pieces.  But  if  they  still  continue  obstinate,  or  offer  to  raise  insurrec- 
tions, he  proceeds  to  the  last  remedy,  by  letting  the  island  drop  directly 
upon  their  heads,  which  makes  an  universal  destruction  both  of  houses 
and  men.  However,  this  is  an  extremity  to  which  the  prince  is  seldom 
driven,  neither  indeed  is  he  willing  to  put  it  in  execution,  nor  dare  his 
ministers  advise  him  to  an  action,  which,  as  it  would  render  them  odious 
to  the  people,  so  it  would  be  a great  damage  to  their  own  estates,  which 
lie  all  below,  for  the  island  is  the  King’s  demesne. 

But  there  is  still  indeed  a more  weighty  reason  why  the  kings  of  this 
country  have  been  always  averse  from  executing  so  terrible  an  action, 
unless  upon  the  utmost  necessity.  For  if  the  town  intended  to  be  de- 
stroyed should  have  in  it  any  tall  rocks,  as  it  generally  falls  out  in  the 
larger  cities,  a situation  probably  chosen  at  first  with  a view  to  prevent 
such  a catastrophe  ; or  if  it  abound  in  high  spires  or  pillars  of  stone,  a 
sudden  fall  might  endanger  the  bottom  or  under-surface  of  the  island, 
which,  although  it  consists,  as  I have  said,  of  one  entire  adamant  two 
hundred  yards  thick,  might  happen  to  crack  by  too  great  a shock,  or 
burst  by  approaching  too  near  the  fires  from  the  houses  below,  as  the 
backs  both  of  iron  and  stone  will  often  do  in  our  chimneys.  Of  all  this 
the  people  are  well  apprised,  and  understand  how  far  to  carry  their  ob-  j 
stinacy,  where  their  liberty  or  property  is  concerned.  And  the  King, 
when  he  is  highest  provoked,  and  most  determined  to  press  a city  to-' 
rubbish,  orders  the  island  to  descend  with  great  gentleness,  out  of  i 
pretence  of  tenderness  to  his  people,  but  indeed  tor  fear  of  breaking 
the  adamantine  bottom  ; in  which  case,  it  is  the  opinion  of  all  theii\ 
philosophers,  that  the  loadstone  could  no  longer  hold  it  up,  and  the  j 
whole  mass  would  fall  to  the  ground.  . J 

By  a fundamental  law  of  this  realm,  neither  the  King,  nor  either  of 
his  two  elder  sons,  are  permitted  to  leave  the  island ; nor  the  Queen, 
till  she  is  past  child-bearing. 


A VOYAGE  TO  LAPUTA,  &v. 


101 


CHAPTER  IV. 

The  author  leaves  Laputa,  is  conveyed  to  Balnibarbi,  arrives  at  the  metropolis. 
A description  of  the  metropolis  and  the  country  adjoining.  The  author 
hospitably  received  by  a great  lord.  His  conversation  with  that  lord. 

ALTHOUGH  I cannot  say  that  I was  ill-treated  in  this  island,  yet 
I must  confess  I thought  myself  too  much  neglected,  not  without 
some  degree  of  contempt.  For  neither  prince  nor  people  appeared  to 
be  curious  in  any  part  of  knowledge,  except  mathematics  and  music, 
wherein  I was  far  their  inferior,  and  upon  that  account  very  little  re- 
garded. 

On  the  other  side,  after  having  seen  all  the  curiosities  of  the  island, 
I was  very  desirous  to  leave  it,  being  heartily  weary  of  those  people. 
They  were  indeed  excellent  for  two  sciences  for  which  I have  great 
esteem,  and  wherein  I am  not  unversed ; but  at  the  same  time,  so  ab- 
stracted and  involved  in  speculation,  that  I never  met  with  such  dis- 
agreeable companions.  I conversed  only  with  women,  tradesmen, 
flappers,  and  court  pages,  during  two  months  of  my  abode  here,  by 
which,  at  last,  I rendered  myself  extremely  contemptible ; yet  these 
were  the  only  people  from  whom  I could  ever  receive  a reasonable 
answer. 

I had  obtained,  by  hard  study,  a good  degree  of  knowledge  in  their 
language  ; I was  weary  of  being  confined  to  an  island  where  I received 
so  little  countenance,  and  resolved  to  leave  it  with  the  first  opportu- 
nity. 

There  was  a great  lord  at  court,  nearly  related  to  the  King,  and  for 
that  reason  alone  used  with  respect.  He  was  universally  reckoned  the 
most  ignorant  and  stupid  person  among  them.  He  had  performed 
many  eminent  services  for  the  Crown,  had  great  natural  and  acquired 
parts,  adorned  with  integrity  and  honour,  but  so  ill  an  ear  for  music, 
that  his  detractors  reported  he  had  been  often  known  to  beat  time  in 
the  wrong  place;  neither  could  his  tutors,  without  extreme  difficulty, 
teach  him  to  demonstrate  the  most  easy  proposition  in  the  mathematics. 
He  was  pleased  to  shew  me  many  marks  of  favour,  often  did  me  the 
honour  of  a visit,  desired  to  be  informed  in  the  affairs  of  Europe,  the 
laws  and  customs,  the  manners  and  learning,  of  the  several  countries 
where  I had  travelled.  He  listened  to  me  with  great  attention,  and 
made  very  wise  observations  on  all  I spoke.  He  had  two  flappers  at- 
tending him  for  state,  but  never  made  use  of  them  except  at  court  and 
in  visits  of  ceremony,  and  would  always  command  them  to  withdraw 
when  we  were  alone  together. 

I entreated  this  illustrious  person  to  intercede  in  my  behalf  with  his 
Majesty  for  leave  to  depart,  which  he  accordingly  did,  as  he  was  pleased 
to  tell  me,  with  regret : for,  indeed,  he  had  made  me  sev«  ral  offers  very 
advantageous,  which  however  I refused  with  expressions  of  the  highest 
acknowledgment. 

On  the  1 6th  day  of  February  I took  leave  of  his  Majesty  and  the 
court.  The  King  made  me  a present  to  the  value  of  about  two  hundred 
pounds  English,  and  my  protector  his  kinsman  as  much  more,  together 
with  a letter,  of  recommendation  to  a friend  of  his  in  Lagado,  the 


102 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


metropolis : the  island  being  then  hovering  over  a mountain  about  two 
miles  from  it,  I was  let  down  from  the  lowest  gallery,  in  the  same 
manner  as  I had  been  taken  up. 

The  continent,  as  far  as  it  is  subject  to  the  monarch  of  the  Flying 
Island,  passes  under  the  general  name  of  Balnibarbi,  and  the  metro- 
polis, as  I said  before,  is  called  Lagado.  I felt  some  little  satisfaction 
in  finding  myself  on  firm  ground.  I walked  to  the  city  without  any 
concern,  being  clad  like  one  of  the  natives,  and  sufficiently  instructed 
to  converse  with  them.  I soon  found  out  the  person’s  house  to  whom 
I was  recommended,  presented  my  letter  from  his  friend  the  grandee 
in  the  island,  and  was  received  with  much  kindness.  This  great  lord, 
whose  name  was  Munodi,  ordered  me  an  apartment  in  his  own  house, 
where  I continued  during  my  stay,  and  was  entertained  in  a most 
hospitable  manner. 

The  next  morning  after  my  arrival,  he  took  me  in  his  chariot  to  see 
the  town,  which  is  about  half  the  bigness  of  London,  but  the  houses 
very  strangely  built,  and  most  of  them  out  of  repair.  The  people  in 
the  streets  walked  fast,  looked  wild,  their  eyes  fixed,  and  were  generally 
in  rags.  We  passed  through  one  of  the  town  gates,  and  went  about 
three  miles  into  the  country,  where  I saw  many  labourers  working  with 
several  sorts  of  tools  in  the  ground,  but  was  not  able  to  conjecture  what 
they  were  about ; neither  did  I observe  any  expectation  either  of  corn 
or  grass,  although  the  soil  appeared  to  be  excellent.  I could  not  forbear 
admiring  at  these  odd  appearances  both  in  town  and  country,  and  I made 
bold  to  desire  my  conductor,  that  he  would  be  pleased  to  explain  to  me  ! 
what  could  be  meant  by  so  many  busy  heads,  hands,  and  faces,  both  in 
the  streets  and  the  fields,  because  I did  not  discover  any  good  effects 
they  produced  ; but  on  the  contrary,  I never  knew  a soil  so  unhappily  < 
cultivated,  houses  so  ill  contrived  and  so  ruinous,  or  a people  whose 
countenances  and  habit  expressed  so  much  misery  and  want. 

This  Lord  Munodi  was  a person  of  the  first  rank,  and  had  been  some 
years  Governor  of  Lagado  ; but  by  a cabal  of  ministers  was  discharged 
for  insufficiency.  However,  the  King  treated  him  with  tenderness,  as 
a well-meaning  man,  but  of  a low  contemptible  understanding. 

When  I gave  that  free  censure  of  the  country  and  its  inhabitants,  be 
made  no  further  answer  than  by  telling  me  that  I had  not  been  long 
enough  among  them  to  form  a judgment ; and  that  the  different  nations 
of  the  world  had  different  customs,  with  other  common  topics  to  the 
same  purpose.  But  when  we  returned  to  his  palace,  he  asked  me  how 
I liked  the  building,  what  absurdities  I observed,  and  what  quarrel  I 
had  with  the  dress  and  looks  of  his  domestics.  This  he  might  safely 
do,  because  everything  about  him  was  magnificent,  regular,  and  polite. 

I answered,  that  his  excellency’s  prudence,  quality,  and  fortune,  had 
exempted  him  from  those  defects  which  folly  and  beggary  had  produced 
in  others.  He  said,  if  I would  go  with  him  to  his  country  house  about 
twenty  miles  distant,  where  his  estate  lay,  there  would  be  more  leisure 
ror  this  kind  of  conversation.  I told  his  excellency  that  I was  entirely 
at  his  disposal ; and  accordingly  we  set  out  next  morning. 

During  our  journey,  he  made  me  observe  the  several  methods  used 
by  farmers  in  managing  their  lands,  which  to  me  were  wholly  unac- 
countable ; for,  except  in  some  very  few  places;  I could  not  disco  vei 


A VOYAGE  TO  LAPUTA , &c.  io^ 

one  ear  of  corn  or  blade  of  grass.  But,  in  three  hours  travelling,  the 
scene  was  wholly  altered  ; we  came  into  a most  beautiful  country  ; 
farmers’  houses  at  small  distances,  neatly  built ; the  fields  enclosed, 
containing  vineyards,  corn-grounds  and  meadows.  Neither  do  I re- 
member to  have  seen  a more  delightful  prospect.  His  excellency 
observed  my  countenance  to  clear  up  ; he  told  me,  with  a sigh,  that 
there  his  estate  began,  and  would  continue  the  same  till  we  should 
come  to  his  house  ; that  his  countrymen  ridiculed  and  despised  him  for 
managing  his  affairs  no  better,  and  for  setting  so  ill  an  example  to  the 
kingdom,  which  however  was  followed  by  very  few,  such  as  were  old, 
and  wilful,  and  weak,  like  himself. 

We  came  at  length  to  the  house,  which  was  indeed  a noble  structure, 
built  according  to  the  best  rules  of  ancient  architecture.  The  fountains, 
gardens,  walks,  avenues,  and  groves,  were  all  disposed  with  exact  judg- 
ment and  taste.  I gave  due  praises  to  everything  I saw ; whereof  his 
excellency  took  not  the  least  notice  till  after  supper,  when/  there  being 
no  third  companion,  he  told  me,  with  a very  melancholy  air,  that  he 
doubted  he  must  throw  down  his  houses  in  town  and  country,  to  rebuild 
them  after  the  present  mode,  destroy  ail  his  plantations,  and  cast  others 
in  such  a form  as  modern  usage  required,  a4K  give  the  same  directions 
to  all  his  tenants,  unless  he  would  submit  to  incur  the  censure  of  pride, 
singularity,  affectation,  ignorance,  caprice,  and  perhaps  increase  his 
Majesty’s  displeasure. 

That  the  admiration  I appeared  to  be  under  would  cease  or  diminish 
when  he  had  informed  me  of  some  particulars,  which  probably  I never 
heard  of  at  court,  the  people  there  being  too  much  taken  up  in  their 
own  speculations  to  have  regard  to  what  passed  here  below. 

The  sum  of  his  discourse  was  to  this  effect  . that  about  forty  years 
ago,  certain  persons  went  up  to  Laputa,  either  upon  business  or  diver- 
sion, and  after  five  months’  continuance  came  back  with  a very  little 
smattering  in  mathematics,  but  full  of  volatile  spirits  acquired  in  that 
airy  region.  That  these  persons  upon  their  return  began  to  dislike  the 
management  of  everything  below,  and  fell  into  schemes  of  putting  all 
arts,  sciences,  languages,  and  mechanics  upon  a new  foot.  To  this 
end  they  procured  a royal  patent  for  erecting  an  Academy  of  Projectors 
in  Lagado ; and  the  humour  prevailed  so  strongly  among  the  people 
that  there  is  not  a town  of  any  consequence  in  the  kingdom  without 
such  an  academy.  In  these  colleges  the  professors  contrive  new  rules 
and  methods  of  agriculture  and  building,  and  new  instruments  and 
tools  for  all  trades  and  manufactures,  whereby,  as  they  undertake,  one 
man  shall  do  the  work  of  ten  ; a palace  may  be  built  in  a week,  of  ma- 
terials so  durable  as  to  last  for  ever  without  repairing  ; all  the  fruits  of 
the  earth  shall  come  to  maturity  at  whatever  season  we  think  fit  to 
choose,  and  increase  a hundred-fold  more  than  they  do  at  present, 
with  innumerable  other  happy  proposals.  The  only  inconvenience  is 
that  none  of  these  projects  are  yet  brought  to  perfection,  and  in  the 
meantime  the  whole  country  lies  miserably  waste,  the  houses  in  ruins, 
and  the  people  without  food  or  clothes,  by  all  which,  instead  of  being 
discouraged,  they  are  fifty  times  more  violently  bent  upon  prosecuting 
their  schemes,  driven  equally  on  by  hope  and  despair.  That  as  for 
himself,  being  not  of  an  enterprising  spirit,  he  was  content  to  go  on  in 


104 


DEAN  SWIFT* S WORKS. 


the  oH  forms,  to  live  in  the  houses  his  ancestors  had  built,  and  act  as 
they  did  in  every  part  of  life  without  innovation.  That  some  few  other 
persons  of  quality  and  gentry  had  done  the  same,  but  were  looked  on 
with  an  eye  of  contempt  and  ill  will,  as  enemies  to  art,  ignorant  and  ill 
commonwealthsmen,  preferring  their  own  ease  and  sloth  before  the  ge- 
neral improvement  of  their  country. 

His  lordship  added  that  he  would  not  by  any  further  particulars  pre- 
vent the  pleasure  I should  certainly  take  in  viewing  the  grand  academy, 
whither  he  was  resolved  I should  go.  He  only  desired  me  to  observe  a 
ruined  building  upon  the  side  of  a mountain  about  three  miles  distant, 
of  which  he  gave  me  this  account : that  he  had  a very  convenient  mill 
within  half  a mile  of  his  house,  turned  by  a current  from  a large  river, 
and  sufficient  for  his  own  family  as  well  as  a great  number  of  his  tenants. 
That  about  seven  years  ago  a club  of  those  projectors  came  to  him  with 
proposals  to  destroy  this  mill,  and  build  another  on  the  side  of  that 
mountain,  on  the  long  ridge  whereof  a long  canal  must  be  cut  for  a re- 
pository of  water  to  be  conveyed  up  by  pipes  and  engines  to  supply  the 
mill ; because  the  wind  and  air  upon  a height  agitated  the  water,  and 
thereby  made  it  fitter  for  motion.  And  because  the  water  descending 
down  a declivity  would  turn  the  mill  with  half  the  current  of  a river 
whose  course  is  more  up<HT  a level.  He  said  that,  being  not  then  very 
well  with  the  court,  and  pressed  by  many  of  his  friends,  he  complied 
with  the  proposal  ; and  after  employing  an  hundred  men  for  two  years 
the  work  miscarried,  the  projectors  went  off,  laying  the  blame  entirely 
upon  him,  railing  at  him  ever  since,  and  putting  others  upon  the  same  j 
experiment  with  equal  assurance  of  success  as  well  as  equal  disappoint- 
ment. 

In  a few  days  we  came  back  to  town,  and  his  Fxcellency,  considering  < 
the  bad  character  he  had  in  the  academy,  would  not  go  with  me  himself^ 
but  recommended  me  to  a friend  of  his  to  bear  me  company  thither. 

My  lord  was  pleased  to  represent  me  as  a great  admirer  of  projects,  and 
a person  of  much  curiosity  and  easy  belief ; which  indeed  was  not 
without  truth,  for  I myself  had  been  a sort  of  a projector  in  my  younger 
days. 

i 

CHAPTER  V. 

The  author  permitted  to  see  the  Grand  Academy  of  Lagado.  The  academy 
largely  described.  The  arts  wherein  the  professors  employ  themselves. 

THIS  Academy  is  not  an  entire  single  building,  but  a continuation  j 
of  several  houses  on  both  sides  of  a street,  which  growing  waste 
was  purchased  and  applied  to  that  use. 

I was  received  very  kindly  by  the  warden,  and  went  for  many  days 
to  the  academy.  Every  room  hath  in  it  one  or  more  projectors,  and  I 
believe  I could  not  be  in  fewer  than  five  hundred  rooms. 

The  first  man  I saw  was  of  a meagre  aspect,  with  sooty  hands  and 
face,  his  hair  and  beard  long,  ragged,  and  singed  in  several  places  ; his 
clothes,  shirt,  and  skin  were  all  of  the  same  colour.  He  had  been  eight 
years  upon  a project  for  extracting  sunbeams  out  of  cucumbers,  which  ' 
were  to  be  put  into  vials  hermetically  sealed,  and  let  out  to  warm  the 
air  in  raw,  inclement  summers.  He  told  me  he  did  not  doubt  in  eight 


A VOYAGE  TO  LA  PUT  A,  &c. 


*>3 

years  more  he  should  be  able  to  supply  the  governor’s  gaidens  with 
sunshine  at  a reasonable  rate  ; but  he  complained  that  his  stock  was  low, 
and  entreated  me  to  give  him  something  as  an  encouragement  to  inge- 
nuity, especially  since  this  had  been  a very  dear  season  for  cucumbers. 

I made  him  a small  present,  for  my  lord  had  furnished  me  with  money 
on  purpose,  because  he  knew  their  practice  of  begging  from  all  who  go 
to  see  them. 

I went  into  another  chamber,  but  was  ready  to  hasten  back,  being 
almost  overcome  with  a horrible  stink.  My  conductor  pressed  me  for- 
ward, conjuring  me  in  a whisper  to  give  no  offence,  which  would  be 
highly  resented,  and  therefore  I durst  not  so  much  as  stop  my  nose. 
The  projector  of  this  cell  was  the  most  ancient  student  of  the  academy. 
His  face  and  beard  were  of  a pale  yellow  ; his  hands  and  clothes  daubed 
over  with  filth.  When  I was  presented  to  him  he  gave  me  a very  close 
embrace  (a  compliment  I could  well  have  excused).  His  employment 
from  his  first  coming  into  the  academy  was  an  operation  to  reduce  hu- 
man excrement  to  its  original  food  by  separating  the  several  parts, 
removing  the  tincture  which  it  receives  from  the  gall,  making  the  odour 
exhale,  and  scumming  off  the  saliva.  He  had  a weekly  allowance  from 
the  society  of  a vessel  filled  with  human  ordure  about  the  bigness  of  a 
Bristol  barrel. 

I saw  another  at  work  to  calcine  ice  into  gunpowder,  who  likewise 
showed  me  a treatise  he  had  written  concerning  the  malleability  of  fire, 
which  he  intended  to  publish. 

There  was  a most  ingenious  architect  who  had  contrived  a new  me- 
thod for  building  houses  by  beginning  at  the  roof  and  working  down- 
wards to  the  foundation,  which  he  justified  to  me  by  the  like  practice 
of  those  two  prudent  insects  the  bee  and  the  spider. 

There  was  a man  born  blind  who  had  several  apprentices  in  his  own 
condition.  Their  employment  was  to  mix  colours  for  painters,  which 
theq:  master  taught  them  to  distinguish  by  feeling  and  smelling.  It  was 
indeed  my  misfortune  to  find  them  at  that  time  not  very  perfect  in  their 
lessons,  and  the  professor  himself  happened  to  be  generally  mistaken. 
This  artist  is  much  encouraged  and  esteemed  by  the  whole  fraternity. 

In  another  apartment  I was  highly  pleased  with  a projector  who  had 
found  a device  of  ploughing  the  ground  with  hogs  to  save  the  charges  of 
ploughs,  cattle  and  labour.  The  method  is  this  : in  an  acre  of  ground 
you  bury  at  six  inches  distance,  and  eight  deep,  a quantity  of  acorns, 
dates,  chestnuts,  and  other  mast  or  vegetables  whereof  these  animals 
are  fondest ; then  you  drive  six  hundred  or  more  of  them  into  the  field, 
where,  in  a few  days,  they  will  root  up  the  whole  ground  in  search  of 
their  food,  and  make  it  fit  for  sowing,  at  the  same  time  manuring  it 
with  their  dung.  It  is  true,  upon  experiment,  they  found'the  charge 
and  trouble  very  great,  and  they  had  little  or  no  crop.  However,  it  is 
not  doubted  that  this  invention  may  be  capable  of  great  improvement. 

I went  into  another  room  where  the  walls  and  ceiling  were  all  hung 
round  with  cobwebs,  except  a narrow  passage  for  the  artist  to  go  in  and 
out.  At  my  entrance  he  called  aloud  to  me  not  to  disturb  his  webs. 
He  lamented  the  fatal  mistake  the  world  had  been  so  long  in  ot  using 
silkworms,  while  we  had  such  plenty  of  domestic  insects  who  infinitely 
excelled  the  former,  because  they  understood  how  to  weave  as  well  as 


to6 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


spin.  And  he  proposed  farther  that,  by  employing  spiders,  the  chargt 
of  dyeing  silks  should  be  wholly  saved,  whereof  I was  fully  convinced 
when  he  showed  me  a vast  number  of  flies  most  beautifully  coloured, 
wherewith  he  fed  his  spiders,  assuring  us  that  the  webs  would  take  a 
tincture  from  them  ; and  as  he  had  them  of  all  hues  he  hoped  to  fit 
everybody's  fancy  as  soon  as  he  could  find  proper  food  for  the  flies  of 
certain  gums,  oils,  and  other  glutinous  matter  to  give  a strength  and 
consistence  to  the  threads. 

There  was  an  astronomer  who  had  undertaken  to  place  a sun-dial 
upon  the  great  weather-cock  on  the  town  house,  by  adjusting  the  annual 
and  diurnal  motions  of  the  earth  and  sun  so  as  to  answer  and  coincide 
with  all  accidental  turnings  by  the  wind. 

I was  complaining  of  a small  fit  of  the  cholic,  upon  which  my  con- 
ductor led  me  into  a room  where  a great  physician  resided,  who  was 
famous  for  curing  that  disease  by  contrary  operations  from  the  same 
instrument.  He  had  a large  pair  of  bellows  with  a long,  slender  muzzle 
of  ivory.  This  he  conveyed  eight  inches  up  the  anus,  and  drawing  in 
the  wind  he  affirmed  he  could  make  the  guts  as  lank  as  a dried  bladder. 
But  when  the  disease  was  more  stubborn  and  violent  he  let  in  the  muzzle 
while  the  bellows  were  full  of  wind,  which  he  discharged  into  the  body 
of  the  patient  ; then  withdrew  the  instrument  to  replenish  it,  clapping 
his  thumb  strongly  against  the  orifice  of  the  fundament  ; and  this  being 
repeated  three  or  four  times,  the  adventitious  wind  would  rush  out,  bring- 
ingthe  noxious  along  with  it  (like  water  put  into  a pump)  and  the  patient 
recover.  I saw  him  try  both  experiments  upon  a dog,  but  could  not 
discern  any  effect  from  the  former.  After  the  latter  the  animal  was 
ready  to  burst,  and  made  so  violent  a discharge  as  was  very  offensive 
to  me  and  my  companions.  The  dog  died  on  the  spot,  and  we  left  the 
doctor  endeavouring  to  recover  him  by  the  same  operation. 

I visited  many  other  apartments,  but  shall  not  trouble  my  reader  with 
all  the  curiosities  I observed,  being  studious  of  brevity. 

I had  hitherto  seen  only  one  side  of  the  academy,  the  other  being 
appropriated  to  the  advancers  of  speculative  learning,  of  whom  I shall 
say  something  when  I have  mentioned  one  illustrious  person  more,  who 
is  called  among  them  the  universal  artist.  He  told  us  he  had  been 
thirty  years  employing  his  thoughts  for  the  improvement  of  human  life. 
He  had  two  large  rooms  full  of  wonderful  curiosities,  and  fifty  men  at 
work.  Some  were  condensing  air  into  a dry  tangible  substance,  by 
extracting  the  nitre,  and  letting  the  aqueous  or  fluid  particles  percolate  ; 
others  softening  marble  for  pillows  and  pincushions  ; others  petrifying 
the  hoofs  of  a living  horse  to  preserve  them  from  foundering.  The 
artist  himself  was  at  that  time  busy  upon  two  great  designs  : the  first, 
to  sow  land  with  chaff,  wherein  he  affirmed  the  true  seminal  virtue  to 
be  contained,  as  he  demonstrated  by  several  experiments  which  I was 
not  skilful  enough  to  comprehend.  The  other  was  by  a certain  com- 
position of  gums,  minerals,  and  vegetables  outwardly  applied,  to  prevent 
the  growth  of  wool  upon  two  young  lambs  ; and  he  hoped  in  4 reasonable 
time  to  propagate  the  breed  of  naked  sheep  all  over  the  kingdom. 

We  crossed  a walk  to  the  other  part  of  the  academy,  where,  as  I have 
already  said,  the  projector  in  speculative  learning  resided. 

The  first  professor  I saw  was  in  a very  large  room  with  iorty  pupils 


A VOYAGE  TO  LA  PUT  A t &c. 


107 


about  him.  After  salutation,  observing  me  to  look  earnestly  upon  a 
frame,  which  took  up  the  greatest  part  of  both  the  length  and  breadth 
of  the  room,  he  said  perhaps  I might  wonder  to  see  him  employed  in  a 
project  for  improving  speculative  knowledge  by  practical  and  mechani- 
cal operations.  But  the  world  would  soon  be  sensible  of  its  usefulness , 
and  he  flattered  himself  that  a more  noble,  exalted  thought  never  sprung 
in  any  other  man’s  head.  Every  one  knew  how  laborious  the  usual 
method  is  of  attaining  to  arts  and  sciences;  whereas,  by  his  contrivance, 
the  most  ignorant  person,  at  a reasonable  charge,  and  with  a little 
bodily  labour  may  write  both  in  philosophy,  poetry,  politics,  law,  ma- 
thematics, and  theologv,  without  the  least  assistance  from  genius  or 
study.  He  then  led  me  to  the  frame,  about  the  rides  whereof  all  his 
pupils  stood  in  ranks.  It  was  twenty  foot  square,  placed  in  the  middle 
of  the  room.  The  superficies  was  composed  of  several  bits  of  wood 
about  the  bigness  of  a dye,  but  some  larger  than  others.  They  were 
all  linked  together  by  slender  wires.  These  bits  of  wood  were  covered 
on  every  square  with  paper  pasted  on  them,  and  on  these  papers  were 
written  all  the  words  of  their  language  in  their  several  moods,  tenses, 
and  declensions,  but  without  any  order.  The  professor  then  desired 
me  to  observe,  for  he  was  going  to  set  his  engine  at  work.  The  pupils, 
at  his  command,  took  each  of  them  hold  of  an  iron  handle,  whereof 
there  were  forty  fixed  round  the  edges  of  the  frame,  and  giving  them  a 
sudden  turn  the  whole  disposition  of  the  words  was  entirely  changed. 
He  then  commanded  six  and  thirty  of  the  lads  to  read  the  several  lines 
softly  as  they  appeared  upon  the  frame  ; and  where  they  found  three  or 
four  words  together  that  might  make  part  of  a sentence  they  dictated 
to  the  four  remaining  boys  who  were  scribes.  This  work  was  repeated 
three  or  four  times,  and  at  every  turn  the  engine  was  so  contrived  that 
the  words  shifted  into  new  places,  or  the  square  bits  of  wood  moved 
upside  down. 

Six  hours  a day  the  young  students  were  employed  in  this  labour, 
and  the  professor  showed  me  several  volumes  in  large  folio  already 
collected  of  broken  sentences,  which  he  intended  to  piece  together,  and 
out  of  those  rich  materials  to  give  the  world  a complete  body  of  all  arts 
and  sciences  ; which  however  might  be  still  improved  and  much  expe- 
dited if  the  public  would  raise  a fund  for  making  and  employing  five 
hundred  such  frames  in  Lagado,  and  oblige  the  managers  to  contribute 
in  common  their  several  collections. 

He  assured  me  that  this  invention  had  employed  all  his  thoughts 
from  his  youth,  that  he  had  employed  the  whole  vocabulary  into  his 
frame,  and  made  the  strictest  computation  of  the  general  proportion 
there  is  in  the  book  between  the  numbers  of  particles,  nouns,  and  verbs, 
and  other  parts  of  speech. 

I made  my  humblest  acknowledgment  to  this  illustrious  person  for 
his  great  communicativeness,  and  promised  if  ever  1 had  the  good  for- 
tune to  return  to  my  native  country  that  I would  do  him  justice  as  the 
sole  inventor  of  this  wonderful  machine,  the  form  ana  contrivance  of 
which  I desired  leave  to  delineate  upon  paper  as  in  the  figure  here  an- 
nexed. I told  him,  although  it  were  the  custom  of  our  learned  in  Europe 
to  steal  inventions  from  each  other,  who  had  thereby  at  least  this  ad- 
vantage, that  it  became  a controversy  which  was  the  right  owner,  yet  I 


lo$  DEAN  SWTFTS  WORKS. 

would  take  such  caution  that  he  should  have  the  honour  entire  without 
a rival. 

We  next  went  to  the  school  of  language,  where  three  professors  sat 
in  consultation  upon  improving  that  of  their  own  country. 

The  first  project  was  to  shorten  discourse  by  cutting  polysyllables 
into  one,  and  leaving  out  verbs  and  participles,  because,  in  reality,  al 
things  imaginable  are  but  nouns. 

The  other  was  a scheme  for  entirely  abolishing  all  words  whatsoever; 
and  this  was  urged  as  a great  advantage  in  point  of  health  as  well  as 
brevity.  For  it  is  plain  that  every  word  we  speak  is  in  some  degree  a 
diminution  of  our  lungs  by  corrosion,  and  consequently  contributes  to 
the  shortening  of  our  lives.  An  expedient  was  therefore  offered  that, 
since  words  are  only  names  for  things,  it  would  be  more  convenient  for 
all  men  to  carry  about  them  such  things  as  were  necessary  to  express 
the  particular  business  they  are  to  discourse  on.  And  this  invention 
would  certainly  have  taken  place  to  the  great  ease  as  well  as  health  of 
the  subject,  if  the  women  in  conjunction  with  the  vulgar  and  illiterate 
had  not  threatened  to  raise  a rebellion  unless  they  might  be  allowed 
the  liberty  to  speak  with  their  tongues  after  the  manner  of  their  ances- 
tors ; such  constant  irreconcilable  enemies  to  science  are  the  common 
people.  However,  many  of  the  most  learned  and  wise  adhere  to  the 
new  scheme  of  expressing  themselves  by  things,  which  hath  only  this 
inconvenience  attending  it,  that  if  a man’s  business  be  very  great,  and 
of  various  kinds,  he  must  be  obliged  in  proportion  to  carry  a great 
bundle  of  things  upon  his  back  unless  he  can  afford  one  or  two  strong 
servants  to  attend  him.  I have  often  beheld  two  of  those  sages  almost 
sinking  under  the  weight  of  their  packs  like  pedlars  among  us,  who, 
when  they  meet  in  the  streets,  would  lay  down  their  loads,  open  their 
saddles,  and  hold  conversation  for  an  hour  together ; then  put  up  their 
implements,  help  each  other  to  resume  their  burthens,  and  take  their 
leave. 

But  for  short  conversations  a man  may  carry  implements  in  his 
pockets  and  under  his  arms  enough  to  supply  him,  and  in  his  house  he 
cannot  be  at  a loss.  Therefore,  the  room  where  company  meet  who 
practise  this  art,  is  full  of  all  things  ready  at  hand  requisite  to  furnish 
matter  of  this  kind  of  artificial  converse. 

Another  great  advantage  proposed  by  this  invention  was,  that  it  would 
serve  as  an  universal  language  to  be  understood  in  all  civilized  nations, 
whose  goods  and  utensils  are  generally  of  the  same  kind,  or  nearly  re- 
sembling, so  that  their  uses  might  easily  be  comprehended.  And  the 
ambassadors  would  be  qualified  to  treat  with  foreign  princes  or  ministers 
of  State,  to  whose  tongues  they  were  utter  strangers. 

I was  at  the  mathematical  school,  where  the  master  taught  his  pupils 
after  a method  scarce  imaginable  to  us  in  Europe.  The  proposition 
and  demonstration  were  fairly  written  on  a thin  wafer,  with  ink  com- 
posed of  a cephalic  tincture.  This  the  student  was  to  swallow  upon  a 
fasting  stomach,  and  for  three  days  following  eat  nothing  but  bread  and 
water.  As  the  wafer  digested  the  tincture  mounted  to  his  brain,  bear- 
ing the  proposition  along  with  it.  But  the  success  hath  not  hitherto 
been  answerable,  partly  by  some  error  in  the  quantum  or  composition, 
and  partly  by  the  perverseness  of  lads,  to  whom  this  bolus  is  so  nauseous 


A VOYAGE  TO  LA  PUT  A,  <5hc. 


109 


that  they  generally  steal  aside,  and  discharge  it  upwards  before  it  can 
operate  ; neither  have  they  been  yet  persuaded  to  use  so  long  an  abstin- 
ence as  the  prescription  requireST? 

CHAPTER  VI. 

A further  account  of  the  academy.  The  author  proposes  some  improvements 
which  are  honourably  received. 

IN  the  school  of  political  projectors  I was  but  ill  entertained,  the  pro- 
fessors appearing  in  'my  judgment  wholly  out  of  their  senses,  which 
is  a scene  that  never  fails  to  make  me  melancholy.  These  unhappy 
people  were  proposing  schemes  for  persuading  monarchs  to  choose  fa- 
vourites upon  the  score  of  their  wisdom,  capacity,  and  virtue  ; of  teach- 
ing ministers  to  consult  the  public  good ; of  rewarding  merit,  great 
abilities,  and  eminent  services ; of  instructing  princes  to  know  their 
true  interest  by  placing  it  on  the  same  foundation  with  that  of  their 
people  ; of  choosing  for  employments  persons  qualified  to  exercise  them, 
with  many  other  wild  impossible  chimasras  that  never  entered  before 
into  the  heart  of  man  to  conceive,  and  confirmed  in  me  the  old  observa- 
tion that  there  is  nothing  so  extravagant  and  irrational  which  some 
philosophers  have  not  maintained  for  truth. 

But,  however,  I shall  so  far  do  justice  to  this  part  of  the  Academy, 
as  to  acknowledge  that  all  of  them  were  not  so  visionary.  There  was  a 
most  ingenious  doctor  who  seemed  to  be  perfectly  versed  in  the  whole 
nature  and  system  of  government.  This  illustrious  person  had  very 
usefully  employed  his  studies  in  finding  out  effectual  remedies  for  all 
diseases  and  corruptions,  to  which  the  several  kinds  of  public  adminis- 
tration are  subject  by  the  vices  or  infirmities  of  those  who  govern,  as  well 
as  by  the  licentiousness  of  those  who  are  to  obey  : for  instance,  whereas 
all  writers  and  reasoners  have  agreed  that  there  is  a strict  universal  re- 
semblance between  the  natural  and  the  political  body  ; can  there  be 
anything  more  evident,  than  that  the  health  of  both  must  be  preserved* 
and  the  diseases  cured  by  the  same  prescription  ? It  is  allowed  that  se- 
nates and  great  councils  are  often  troubled  with  redundant,  ebullient, 
and  other  peccant  humours,  with  many  diseases  of  the  head  and  more 
of  the  heart ; with  strong  convulsions,  with  grievous  contractions  of  the 
nerves  and  sinews  in  both  hands,  but  especially  the  right ; with  spleen, 
flatus,  vertigos,  and  deliriums ; with  scrofulous  tumours,  full  of  foetid 
purulent  matter ; with  sour  frothy  ructations,  with  canine  appetites  and 
crudeness  of  digestion,  besides  many  others  needless  to  mention. 
This  doctor  therefore  proposed,  that  upon  the  meeting  of  a Senate,  cer- 
tain physicians  should  attend  at  the  three  first  days  of  their  sitting,  and  at 
the  close  of  each  day’s  debate,  feel  the  pulses  of  every  Senator ; after  which, 
having  maturely  considered  and  consulted  upon  the  nature  of  the  several 
maladies,  and  the  method  of  cure,  they  should  on  the  fourth  day  return 
to  the  Senate  House,  attended  by  their  apothecaries  stored  with  proper 
medicines,  and  before  the  members  sate,  administer  to  each  of  them 
lenatives,  aperitives,  abstersives,  corrosives,  restringents,  palliatives, 
laxatives,  cephalalgics,  icterics,  apophlegmatics,  acoustics,  as  their  seve- 
ral cases  required,  and  according  as  these  medicines  should  operate, 
repeat,  alter,  or  omit  them  at  the  next  meeting. 


no 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


This  project  could  not  be  of  any  great  expense  to  the  public,  and 
would,  in  my  poor  opinion,  be  of  much  use  for  the  dispatch  of  business 
in  those  countries  where  senates  have  any  share  in  the  legislative 
power,  beget  unanimity,  shorten  debates,  open  a few  mouths  which  are 
now  closed,  and  close  many  more  which  are  now  open  ; curb  the  petu- 
lancy  of  the  young,  and  correct  the  positiveness  of  the  old  ; rouse  the 
stupid,  and  damp  the  pert. 

; Again,  because  it  is  a general  complaint  that  the  favourites  of  princes 
are  troubled  with  short  and  weak  memories,  the  same  doctor  proposed 
that  whoever  attended  a First  Minister,  after  having  told  his  business 
with  the  utmost  brevity,  and  in  the  plainest  words,  should,  at  his  de- 
parture, give  the  said  Minister  a tweak  by  the  nose,  or  a kick  in  the 
belly,  or  tread  on  his  corns,  or  lug  him  thrice  by  both  ears,  or  run  a 
pin  into  his  breech,  or  pinch  his  arm  black  and  blue,  to  prevent  forget- 
fulness : and  at  every  levee  day  repeat  the  same  operation,  till  the 
business  were  done  or  absolutely  refused. 

He  likewise,  directed  that  every  senator  fcn  the  great  council  of  a 
nation,  after  he  had  delivered  his  opinion,  and  argued  in  the  defence  of 
It,  should  be  obliged  to  give  his  vote  directly  contrary  ; because  if  that 
were  done,  the  result  would  infallibly  terminate  in  the  good  of  the 
public. 

When  parties  in  a state  are  violent,  he  offered  a wonderful  contriv- 
ance to  reconcile  them.  The  method  is  this.  You  take  an  hundred 
'eaders  of  each  party,  you  dispose  of  them  into  couples  of  such  whose 
neads  are  nearest  of  a size  ; then  let  two  nice  operators  saw  off  the  ' 
occiput  of  each  couple  at  the  same  time,  in  such  a manner  that,  the 
brain  may  be  equally  divided.  Let  the  occiputs  thus  cut  off  be  inter- 
changed, applying  each  to  the  head  of  his  opposite  party  man.  It  ' 
seems  indeed  to  be  a work  that  requireth  some  exactness,  but  the  Pro- 
essor  assured  us,  that  if  it  were  dexterously  performed,  the  cure  would 
be  infallible.  For  he  argued  thus  : that  the  two  half  brains  being  left 
to  debate  the  matter  between  themselves  within  the  space  of  one  skull, 
would  soon  come  to  a good  understanding,  and  produce  that  modera- 
tion as  well  as  regularity  of  thinking,  so  much  to  be  wished  for  in  the 
heads  of  those  who  imagine  they  come  into  the  w orld  only  to  watch  and 
govern  its  motion.  And  as  to  the  difference  of  brains  in  quantity  or 
quality,  among  those  who  are  directors  in  faction,  the  Doctor  assured ! 
us  from  his  own  knowledge,  that  it  was  a perfect  trifle. 

I heard  a very  warm  debate  between  two  professors,  about  the  most 
commodious  and  effectual  ways  and  means  of  raising  money  without 
grieving  the  subject.  The  first  affirmed  the  justest  method  would  be 
to  lay  a certain  tax  upon  vices  and  folly,  and  the  sum  fixed  upon  every 
man,  to  be  rated  after  the  fairest  manner  by  a jury  of  his  neighbours. 
The  second  was  of  an  opinion  directly  contrary,  to  tax  those  qualities 
of  body  and  mind  for  which  men  chiefly  value  themselves,  the  rate  to  be 
more  or  less  according  to  the  degrees  of  excelling,  the  decision  whereof 
should  be  left  entirely  to  their  own  breast.  The  highest  tax  was  upon  men 
who  are  the  greatest  favourites  of  the  other  sex,  and  the  assessments  i 
according  to  the  number  and  natures  of  the  favours  they  have  received, 
for  which  they  are  allowed  to  be  their  own  vouchers.  Wit,  valour,  and 


XIX 


A VOYAGE  TO  LA  PUT  A,  &e. 

politeness  were  likewise  proposed  to  be  largely  taxed  and  collected 
m the  same  manner,  by  every  person  giving  his  own  word  for  the 
quantum  of  what  he  possessed.  But  as  to  honour,  justice,  wisdom,  and 
learning,  they  should  not  be  taxed  at  all,  because  they  are  qualifica- 
tions of  so  singular  a kind  that  no  man  will  either  allow  them  in  his 
neighbour,  or  value  them  in  himself. 

The  women  were  proposed  to  be  taxed  according  to  their  beauty  and 
skill  in  dressing,  wherein  they  had  the  same  privilege  with  the  men,  to 
be  determined  by  their  own  judgment.  But  constancy,  charity,  good 
sense,  and  good  nature  were  not  rated,  because  they  would  not  bear  the 
charge  of  collecting, 

To  keep  Senators  in  the  interest  of  the  Crown,  it  was  proposed  th?t 
the  members  should  raffle  for  employments,  every  man  first  taking  an 
oath,  and  giving  security  that  he  would  vote  for  the  court,  whether  be 
won  or  no,  after  which  the  losers  had  in  their  turn  the  liberty  of  raffling 
upon  the  next  vacancy.  Thus  hope  and  expectation  would  be  kept 
alive,  none  would  complain  of  broken  promises,  but  impute  their  dis- 
appointments wholly  to  Fortune,  whose  shoulders  are  broader  and 
Stronger  than  those  of  a ministry. 

Another  Professor  showed  me  a large  paper  of  instructions  for  dis- 
covering plots  and  conspiracies  against  the  Governments.  He  advised 
great  statesmen  to  examine  into  the  diet  of  all  suspected  persons  ; their 
times  of  eating ; upon  which  side  they  lay  in  bed  ; with  which  hand 
they  wiped  their  posteriors  ; take  a strict  view  of  their  excrements,  and 
from  the  colour,  the  odour,  the  taste,  the  consistence,  the  crudeness, 
or  maturity  of  digestion  form  a judgment  of  their  thoughts  and 
designs.  Because  men  are  never  so  serious,  thoughtful,  and  intent, 
as  when  they  are  at  stool,  which  he  found  by  frequent  experiment : for 
in  such  conjunctures,  when  he  used  merely  as  a trial  to  consider  which 
was  the  best  way  of  murdering  the  king,  his  ordure  would  have  a tinc- 
ture of  green,  but  quite  different  when  he  thought  only  of  raising  an 
insurrection  or  burning  the  metropolis. 

The  whole  discourse  was  written  with  great  acuteness,  containing 
many  observations  both  curious  and  useful  for  politicians,  but  as  I con- 
ceived not  altogether  complete.  This  I ventured  to  tell  the  author,  and 
©ftered,  if  he  pleased,  to  supply  him  with  some  additions.  He  received 
my  proposition  with  more  compliance  than  is  usual  among  writers, 
especially  those  of  the  projecting  species,  professing  he  would  be  glad’ 
to  receive  farther  information. 

. ^ him  that  should  I live  in  a country  where  plots  and  conspira- 
ctes  were  either  in  vogue  from  the  turbulency  of  the  meaner  people,  or 
could  be  turned  to  the  use  and  service  of  ‘the  higher  rank  of  them,  I 
first  would  take  care  to  cherish  and  encourage  the  breed  of  discoverers, 
witnesses,  informers,  accusers,  prosecutors,  evidences,  swearers,  to- 
gether with  their  several  subservient  and  subaltern  instruments  ; and 
when  I had  got  a competent  number  of  them  of  all  sorts  and  capaci- 
ties, I would  put  them  under  the  colour  and  conduct  of  some  dexterous 
person  in  sufficient  power  both  to  protect  and  reward  them.  Men  thus 
qualified  and  thus  empowered  might  make  a most  excellent  use  and 
advantage  of  plots.,  they  might  raise  their  own  characters  and  pass  for 
most  profound  politicians,  they  mignt  restore  new  vigour  to  a craiy 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


113 

administration,  they  might  stifle  or  divert  general  discontents  ; fill  their 
pockets  with  forfeitures,  and  advance  or  sink  the  opinion  of  public  cre- 
dit, as  either  might  answer  their  private  advantage.  This  might  be 
done  by  first  agreeing  and  settling  among  themselves  what  suspected 
persons  should  be  accused  of  a plot  Then  effectual  care  is  taken  to 
secure  all  their  letters  and  papers,  and  put  the  criminal  in  safe  and  se- 
cure custody.  These  papers  might  be  delivered  to  a set  of  artists  of 
dexterity  sufficient  to  find  out  the  mysterious  meanings  of  words,  syl- 
lables and  letters.  They  should  be  allowed  to  put  what  interpretation 
they  pleased  upon  them,  giving  them  a sense  not  only  which  has  no 
relation  at  all  to  them,  but  even  what  is  quite  contrary  to  their  true 
intent  and  real  meaning  ; thus,  for  instance,  they  may,  if  they  so  fancy, 
interpret  a sieve  to  signifiy  a court  lady,  a lame  dog  an  invader,  the 
plague  a standing  army,  a buzzard  a great  statesman,  the  gout  a high 
priest,  a chamber-pot  a committee  of  grandees,  a broom  a revolution, 
a mouse-trap  an  employment,  a bottomless-pit  a treasury,  a sink  a 
court,  a cap  and  bells  a favourite,  a broken  reed  a court  of  justice,  an 
empty  tun  a general,  a running  sore  an  administration. 

But  should  this  method  fail,  recourse  might  be  had  to  others  more 
effectual,  by  learned  men  called  acrostics  and  anagrams.  First  might 
be  found  men  of  skill  and  penetration  who  can  discern  that  all  initial 
letters  have  political  meanings.  Thus  N shall  signify  a plot,  B a regi- 
ment of  horse,  L a fleet  at  sea.  Or  secondly,  by  transposing  the  letters 
of  the  alphabet  in  any  suspected  paper,  who  can  discover  the  deepest 
designs  of  a discontented  party.  So  for  example,  if  I should  say  in  a 
letter  to  a friend,  “ Our  brother  Tom  has  just  got  the  piles,”  a man  of  skill 
in  this  art  would  discover  how  the  same  fetters  which  compose  that 

sentence  may  be  analysed  into  the  following  words  ; “ Resist  a 

plot  is  brought  home The  Tower.”  And  this  is  the  ana- 

grammatic  method. 

The  professor  made  me  great  acknowledgments  for  communicating 
these  observations,  and  promised  to  make  honourable  mention  of  me  in 
his  treatise. 

I saw  nothing  in  this  country  that  could  invite  me  to  a longer  con- 
tinuance, and  began  to  think  of  returning  home  to  England. 

CHAPTER  V. 

The  Author  leaves  Lagado,  arrives  at  Maldonada.  No  Ship  ready.  He  takes 
a short  Voyage  to  Glubbdubdrib.  His  reception  by  the  Governor. 

THE  continent  of  which  this  kingdom  was  a part,  extends  itself,  as  I 
have  reason  to  believe,  eastward  to  that  unknown  tract  of  Ame- 
rica?  westward  of  California,  and  north  to  the  Pacific  Ocean,  which  is 
not  above  a hundred  and  fifty  miles  from  Lagado,  where  there  is  a good 
port  and  much  commerce  with  the  great  island  of  Luggnagg,  situated 
ro  the  north-west  about  29  degrees  north  latitude,  and  140  longitude. 
This  Island  of  Luggnagg  stands  south-eastwards  of  Japan,  about 
an  hundred  leagues  distant.  There  is  a strict  alliance  between  the 
Japanese  Emperor  and  the  King  of  Luggnagg,  which  affords  frequent 
opportunities  of  sailing  from  one  island  to  the  other.  I determined 
therefore  to  direct  my  course  this  way,  in  order  to  my  return  to  Europe. 


A VOYAGE  TO  LA  PUT  A,  &*.  113 

I hired  two  mules  with  a guide  to  show  me  the  way,  and  carry  my  small 
baggage.  I took  leave  of  my  noble  protector,  who  had  shown  me  so 
much  favour,  and  made  me  a generous  present  at  my  departure. 

My  journey  was  without  any  accident  or  adventure  worth  relating. 
When  I arrived  at  the  port  of  Maldonada  (for  so  it  is  called),  there  was 
no  ship  in  the  harbour  bound  for  Luggnagg,  nor  like  to  be  in  some 
time.  The  town  is  about  as  large  as  Portsmouth.  I soon  fell  into  some 
acquaintance,  and  was  very  hospitably  received.  A gentleman  of  dis- 
tinction said  to  me  that  since  the  ships  bound  for  Luggnagg  could  not 
be  ready  in  less  than  a month,  it  might  be  no  disagreeable  amusement 
for  me  to  take  a trip  to  the  little  island  of  Glubbdubdrib,  about  five 
leagues  off  to  the  south-west.  He  offered  himself  and  a friend  to  ac- 
company me,  and  that  I should  be  provided  with  a small  convenient' 
barque  for  the  voyage. 

Glubbdubdrib,  as  nearly  as  I can  interpret  the  word,  sign;*  ~es  the 
Island  of  Sorcerers  or  Magicians.  It  is  about  one-third  as  lrJge  as  the 
Isle  of  Wight,  and  extremely  fruitful : it  is  governed  by  the  head  of  a 
certain  tribe,  who  are  all  magicians.  This  tribe  married  only  among 
each  other,  and  the  eldest  in  succession  is  princ^  or  governor.  He  hath 
a noble  palace  and  a park  of  about  three  thousand  acres,  surrounded 
by  a wall  of  hewn  stone  twenty  foot  high.  In  this  park  are  several 
smaller  inclosures  for  cattve,  z^n,  and  gardening. 

The  governor  and  his  family  are  served  and  attended  by  domestics 
of  a kind  somewhat  unusual.  By  his  skill  in  necromancy,  he  hath  a 
power  of  calling  whom  he  pleaseth  from  the  dead,  and  commanding 
their  service  for  twenty-four  hours,  but  no  longer  ; nor  can  he  call  the 
same  persons  up  again  in  less  than  three  months,  except  upon  very 
extraordinary  occasions. 

When  we  arrived  at  the  island,  which  was  about  eleven  in  the  morn- 
ing, one  of  the  gentlemen  who  accompanied  me,  went  to  the  governor, 
and  desired  admittance  for  a stranger,  who  came  on  purpose  to  have 
the  honour  of  attending  on  his  highness.  This  was  immediately 
granted,  and  we  all  three  entered  the  gate  of  the  palace  between  two 
rows  of  guards,  armed  and  dressed  after  a very  antic  manner,  and 
something  in  their  countenances  that  made  my  flesh  creep  with  a horror 
I cannot  express.  We  passed  through  several  apartments  between 
servants  of  the  same  sort,  ranked  on  each  side  as  before,  till  we  came 
to  the  chamber  of  presence,  wheie,  after  three  profound  obeisances 
and  a few  general  questions,  we  were  permitted  to  sit  on  three  stools 
near  the  lowest  step  of  his  highness’s  throne.  He  understood  the  lan- 
guage of  Balnibarbi,  although  it  were  different  from  that  of  his  island. 
He  desired  me  to  give  him  some  account  of  my  travels  ; and  to  let  me 
see  that  I should  be  treated  without  ceremony,  he  dismissed  all  his 
attendants  with  a turn  of  his  finger,  at  which,  to  my  great  astonishment, 
they  vanished  in  an  instant,  like  visions  in  a dream,  when  we  awake  on 
a sudden.  I could  not  recover  myself  in  some  time,  till  the  governor 
assured  me  that  I should  receive  no  hurt ; and  observing  my  two  com- 
panions to  be  under  no  concern,  who  had  been  often  entertained  in  the 
same  manner,  I began  to  take  courage,  and  related  to  his  highness  a 
short  history  ot  my  several  adventures,  yet  not  without  some  hesitation, 
and  frequently  looking  behind  me  to  the  place  where  I had  seen  those 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS . 


1 14 

domestic  spectres.  I had  the  honour  to  dine  with  the  governor,  where 
a new  set  of  ghosts  served  up  the  meat,  and  waited  at  table.  I now 
observed  myself  to  be  less  terrified  than  I had  been  in  the  morning.  I 
stayed  till  sunset,  but  humbly  desired  his  highness  to  excuse  me  for  not 
accepting  of  his  invitation  of  lodging  in  the  palace.  My  two  friends  and 
I lay  at  a private  house  in  the  town  adjoining,  which  is  the  capital  of 
this  little  island  ; and  the  next  morning  we  returned  to  pay  our  duty  to 
the  governor,  as  he  was  pleased  to  command  us. 

Alter  this  manner  we  continued  in  the  island  for  ten  days,  most  part 
of  every  day  with  the  governor,  and  at  night  in  our  lodging.  I soon 
grew  so  familiarised  to  the  sight  of  spirits,  that  after  the  third  or  fourth 
time  they  gave  me  no  emotion  at  all ; or  if  I had  any  apprehensions 
Adeft,  my  curiosity  prevailed  over  them.  For  his  highness  the  governor 
ordered  me  to  call  up  whatever  persons  I would  choose  to  name,  and  in 
whate  ver  numbers,  among  all  the  dead  from  the  beginning  of  the  world 
to  the  pi^sent  time,  and  command  them  to  answer  any  questions  I 
should  thirh^  fit  to  ask  ; with  this  condition,  that  my  questions  must  be 
confined  witl[j*n  the  compass  of  the  times  they  lived  in.  And  one  thing 
I might  deperrf  *ifp-on>  that  they  would  certainly  tell  me  truth,  for  ; 
lying  was  a talent  of  no’  pse  in  the  lower  world. 

1 made  my  humble  acknowledgments  to  his  highness  for  so  great  a 
favour.  We  were  in  a chamber,  irtei  whence  Xbere  * fair  prospect 
into  the  park.  And  because  my  first  inclination  was  to  be  entertained 
with  scenes  of  pomp  and  magnificence,  I desired  to  see  Alexander  the 
Great,  at  the  head  of  his  army  just  after  the  battle  of  Arbela,  which 
upon  a motion  of  the  governor’s  finger  immediately  appeared  in  a large 
field  under  the  window,  where  we  stood.  Alexander  was  called  up  into 
the  room  : it  was  with  great  difficulty  that  I understood  his  Greek,  and 
had  but  little  of  my  own.  He  assured  me  upon  his  honour  that  he  was 
not  poisoned,  but  died  of  a fever  by  excessive  drinking. 

Next  I saw  Hannibal  passing  the  Alps,  who  told  me  he  had  not  a 
drop  of  vinegar  in  his  camp. 

I saw  Caesar  and  Pompey  at  the  head  of  their  troops  just  ready  to 
engage.  I saw  the  former  in  his  last  great  triumph.  I desired  that 
the  senate  of  Rome  might  appear  before  me  in  one  large  chamber,  and 
an  assembly  of  somewhat  a latter  age,  in  counterview  in  another.  The,1 
first  seemed  to  be  an  assembly  of  heroes  and  demigods ; the  other  a 
knot  of  pedlars,  pickpockets,  highwaymen  and  bullies. 

The  governor  at  my  request  gave  the  sign  for  Caesar  and  Brutus  to; 
advance  towards  us.  I was  struck  with  a profound  veneration  at  the 
sight  of  Brutus,  and  could  easily  discover  the  most  consummate  virtue, 
the  greatest  intrepidity,  and  firmness  of  mind,  the  truest  love  of  his 
country,  and  general  benevolence  for  mankind  in  every  lineament  of 
his  countenance.  I observed  with  much  pleasure,  that  these  two  per- 
sons were  in  good  intelligence  with  each  other,  and  Caesar  freely  con- 
fessed to  me,  that  the  greatest  actions  of  his  own  life  were  not  equal  by 
many  degrees  to  the  glory  of  taking  it  away.  I had  the  honour  to  have 
much  conversation  with  Brutus  ; and  was  told  that  his  ancestor  Junius, 
Socrates,  Epaminondas,  Cato  the  Younger,  Sir  Thomas  More  and  him- 
self, were  perpetually  together : a sextumvirate  to  which  all  the  ages 
of  the  world  cannot  add  a seventh. 


A VOYAGE  TO  LA  PUT  A,  &c. 


US 

It  would  be  tedious  to  trouble  the  reader  with  relating  what  vast 
numbers  of  illustrious  persons  were  called  up,  to  gratify  that  insatiable 
desire  I had  to  see  the  world  in  every  period  of  antiquity  placed  before 
me.  I chiefly  fed  mine  eyes  with  beholding  the  destroyers  of  tyrants 
and  usurpers,  and  the  restorers  of  liberty  to  oppressed  and  injured  na- 
tions. But  it  is  impossible  to  express  the  satisfaction  I received  in  my 
own  mind,  after  such  a manner  as  to  make  it  a suitable  entertainment 
to  the  reader. 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

A farther  account  of  Glubbdubdrib.  Ancient  and  modem  history  corrected. 

HAVING  a desire  to  see  those  ancients  who  were  most  renowned 
for  wit  and  learning,  I set  apart  one  day  on  purpose.  I proposed 
that  Homer  and  Aristotle  might  appear  at  the  head  of  all  their  com- 
mentators ; but  these  were  so  numerous  that  some  hundreds  were 
forced  to  attend  in  the  court  and  outward  rooms  of  the  palace.  I knew 
and  could  distinguish  those  two  heroes  at  first  sight,  not  only  from  the 
crowd,  but  from  each  other.  Homer  was  the  taller  and  comelier  person 
of  the  two,  walked  very  erect  for  one  of  his  age,  and  his  eyes  were  the 
most  quick  and  piercing  I ever  beheld.  Aristotle  stooped  much,  and 
made  use  of  a staff.  His  visage  was  meagre,  his  hair  lank  and  thin, 
and  his  voice  hollow.  I soon  discovered  that  both  of  them  were  perfect 
strangers  to  the  rest  of  the  company,  and  had  never  seen  or  heard  of 
them  before.  And  I had  a whisper  from  a ghost,  who  shall  be  name- 
less, that  these  commentators  always  kept  in  the  most  distant  quarters 
from  their  principals  in  the  lower  world,  through  a consciousness  of 
shame  and  guilt,  because  they  had  so  horribly  misrepresented  the 
meaning  of  those  authors  to  posterity.  I introduced  Didymus  and 
Eustathius  to  Homer,  and  prevailed  on  him  to  treat  them  better  than 
perhaps  they  deserved,  for  he  soon  found  they  wanted  a genius  to  enter 
into  the  spirit  of  a poet.  But  Aristotle  was  out  of  all  patience  with  the 
account  I gave  him  of  Scotus  and  Ramus,  as  I presented  them  to  him, 
and  he  asked  them  whether  the  rest  of  the  tribe  were  as  great  dunces 
as  themselves. 

I then  desired  the  governor  to  call  up  Descartes  and  Gassendi,  with 
whom  I prevailed  to  explain  their  systems  to  Aristotle.  This  great 
philosopher  freely  acknowdedged  his  own  mistakes  in  natural  philo- 
sophy, because  he  proceeded  in  many  things  upon  conjecture,  as  all 
men  must  do ; and  he  found,  that  Gassendi,  who  had  made  the  doctrine 
of  Epicurus  as  palatable  as  he  could,  and  the  Vortices  of  Descartes 
were  equally  exploded.  He  predicted  the  same  fate  to  Attraction, 
whereof  the  present  learned  are  such  zealous  asserters.  He  said,  that 
new  systems  of  nature  were  but  new'  fashions,  which  would  vary  in 
every  age ; and  even  those  who  pretend  to  demonstrate  them  from 
mathematical  principles,  would  flourish  but  a short  period  of  time,  and 
be  out  of  vogue  when  that  was  determined. 

I spent  five  days  in  conversing  with  many  others  of  the  ancient 
learned.  I saw  most  of  the  first  Roman  emperors.  I prevailed  on  the 
governor  to  call  up  Heliogabalus’s  cooks  to  dress  us  a dinner,  but  they 
could  not  shew  us  much  of  their  skill,  for  want  of  materials.  A heloi 

8 — 2 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


11$ 

of  Agesilaus  made  us  a dish  of  Spartan  broth,  but  I was  not  able  tc 
get  down  a second  spoonful. 

The  two  gentlemen  who  conducted  me  to  the  island  were  pressed 
by  their  private  affairs  to  return  in  three  days,  which  I employed  in 
seeing  some  of  the  modern  dead,  who  had  made  the  greatest  figure  for 
two  or  three  hundred  years  past  in  our  own  and  other  countries  of 
Europe;  and  having  been  always  a great  admirer  of  old  illustrious 
families,  I desired  the  governor  would  call  up  a dozen  or  two  of  kings 
with  their  ancestors  in  order  for  eight  or  nine  generations.  But  my 
disappointment  was  grievous  and  unexpected.  For  instead  of  a long 
train  with  royal  diadems,  I saw  in  one  family  two  fiddlers,  three  spruce 
courtiers,  and  an  Italian  prelate.  In  another  a barber,  an  abbot,  and 
two  cardinals.  I have  too  great  a veneration  for  crowned  heads  to 
dwell  any  longer  on  so  nice  a subject.  But  as  to  counts,  marquesses, 
dukes,  earls,  and  the  like  I was  not  so  scrupulous.  And  I confess  it 
was  not  without  some  pleasure  that  I found  myself  able  to  trace  the 
particular  features  by  which  certain  families  are  distinguished  up  to 
their  originals.  I could  plainly  discover  from  whence  one  family 
derives  a long  chin,  why  a second  hath  abounded  with  knaves  for  two 
generations,  and  fools  for  two  more ; why  a third  happened  to  be  crack-/ 
brained,  and  a fourth  to  be  sharpers.  Whence  it  came  what  Polydore 
Virgil  says  of  a certain  great  house,  nec  vir  fortis , nec  foemina  casta. 
How  cruelty,  falsehood,  and  cowardice  grew  to  be  characteristics  by 
which  certain  families  are  distinguished  as  much  as  by  their  coat  of  , 
arms.  Who  first  brought  the  pox  into  a noble  house,  which  hath 
lineally  descended  in  scrofulous  tumours  to  their  posterity.  Neither 
could  I wonder  at  all  this,  when  I saw  such  an  interruption  of  lineages  i 
by  pages,  lacqueys,  valets,  coachmen,  gamesters,  captains,  and  pick-  : 
pockets. 

I was  chiefly  disgusted  with  modern  history.  For  having  strictly 
examined  all  the  persons  of  greatest  name  in  the  courts  of  princes  for 
an  hundred  years  past,  I found  how  the  world  had  been  misled  by  pros- 
titute writers  to  ascribe  the  greatest  exploits  in  war  to  cowards,  the 
wisest  counsel  to  fools,  sincerity  to  flatterers,  Roman  virtue  to  betrayers  ; 
of  their  country,  piety  to  atheists,  chastity  to  sodomites,  truth  to  in- 
formers. How  many  innocent  and  excellent  persons  had  been  con-  , 
demned  to  death  or  banishment,  by  the  practising  of  great  ministers 
upon  the  corruption  of  judges,  and  the  malice  of  faction.  How  many 
villains  had  been  exalted  to  the  highest  places  of  trust,  power,  dignity,  j 
and  profit.  How  great  a share  in  the  motions  and  events  of  courts, 
councils,  and  senates  might  be  challenged  by  bawds,  whores,  pimps, 
parasites,  and  buffoons  ! How  low  an  opinion  I had  of  human  wisdom 
and  integrity,  when  I was  truly  informed  of  the  springs  and  motives  of 
great  enterprises  and  revolutions  in  the  world,  and  of  the  contemptible 
accidents  to  which  they  owed  their  success. 

Here  I discovered  the  roguery  and  ignorance  of  those  who  pretend 
to  write  anecdotes,  or  secret  history,  who  send  so  many  kings  to  their 
graves  with  a cup  of  poison  ; will  repeat  the  discourse  between  a 
prince  and  chief  minister,  where  no  witness  was  by  ; unlock  the 
thoughts  and  cabinets  of  ambassadors  and  secretaries  of  State,  and 
have  the  perpetual  mistortune  to  be  mistaken.  Here  I discovered  the 


A VOYAGE  TO  LAPUTa , &c. 


ii7 

secret  causes  of  many  great  events  that  have  surprised  the  world,  how 
a whore  can  govern  the  back-stairs,  the  back-stairs  a council,  and  the 
council  a senate.  A general  confessed  in  my  presence  that  he  got  a 
victory  purely  by  the  force  of  cowardice  and  ill  conduct  ; and  an  admi- 
ral that  for  want  of  proper  intelligence  he  beat  the  enemy  to  whom  he 
intended  to  betray  the  fleet.  Three  kings  protested  to  me,  that  in  their 
whole  reigns  they  did  never  once  prefer  any  person  of  merit,  unless  by 
mistake  or  treachery  of  some  minister  in  whom  they  confided  ; neither 
would  they  do  it  if  they  were  to  live  again  : and  they  showed  with  great 
strength  of  reason  that  the  royal  throne  could  not  be  supported  without 
corruption,  because  that  positive,  confident,  restive  temper,  which  virtue 
infused  into  man,  was  a perpetual  clog  to  public  business. 

I had  the  curiosity  to  inquire  in  a particular  manner,  by  what  method 
great  numbers  had  procured  to  themselves  high  titles  of  honour,  and 
prodigious  estates  ; and  I confined  my  inquiry  to  a very  modern  period  ; 
however,  without  grating  upon  present  times,  because  I would  be  sure 
to  give  no  offence  even  to  foreigners  (for  I hope  the  reader  need  not 
be  told  that  I do  not  in  the  least  intend  my  own  country  in  what  I say 
upon  this  occasion)  a great  number  of  persons  concerned  were  called 
up,  and  upon  a very  slight  examination,  discovered  such  a scene  of 
infamy,  that  I cannot  reflect  upon  it  without  some  seriousness.  Perjury, 
oppression,  subornation,  fraud,  pandarism,  and  the  like  infirmities  were 
amongst  the  most  excusable  arts  they  had  to  mention,  and  for  these 
I gave,  as  it  was  reasonable,  great  allowance.  But  when  some  con- 
fessed they  owed  their  greatness  and  wealth  to  sodomy  and  incest,  others 
to  the  prostituting  of  their  own  wives  and  daughters  ; others  to  the  be- 
traying their  country  or  their  prince  ; some  to  poisoning;  more  to  the 
perverting  of  justice  in  order  to  destroy  the  innocent ; I hope  I may  be 
pardoned  if  these  discoveries  inclined  me  a little  to  abate  of  that  pro- 
found veneration  which  I am  naturally  apt  to  pay  to  persons  of  high 
rank,  who  ought  to  be  treated  with  the  utmost  respect  due  to  their  sub- 
lime dignity  by  us  their  inferiors. 

1 had  often  read  of  some  great  services  done  to  princes  and  states, 
and  desired  to  see  the  persons  by  whom  those  services  were  performed. 
Upon  inquiry  I was  told  that  their  names  were  to  be  found  on  no  re- 
cord, except  a few  of  them  whom  history  hath  represented  as  the  vilest 
rogues  and  traitors.  As  to  the  rest,  I had  never  once  heard  of  them. 
They  all  appeared  with  dejected  looks,  and  in  the  meanest  habit,  most 
of  them  telling  me  they  died  in  poverty  and  disgrace,  and  the  rest  on 
a scaffold  or  a gibbet. 

Among  the  rest  there  was  one  person  whose  case  appeared  a little 
singular.  He  had  a youth  about  eighteen  years  old  standing  by  his 
side.  He  told  me  he  had  for  many  years  been  commanoer  of  a ship, 
and  in  the  sea-fight  at  Actium,  had  the  good  fortune  to  break  through 
the  enemy’s  great  line  of  battle,  sink  three  of  their  capital  ships,  ana 
take  a fourth,  which  was  the  sole  cause  of  Anthony’s  flight,  and  of  the 
victory  that  ensued  ; that  the  youth  standing  by  him,  his  only  son,  was 
killed  in  the  action.  He  added  that  upon  the  confidence  of  some 
merit,  this  war  being  at  an  end,  he  went  to  Rome,  and  solicited  at  the 
court  of  Augustus  to  be  preferred  to  a greater  ship,  whose  commander 
had  been  killed  : but  without  any  regard  to  his  pretensions,  it  was  given 


1 18 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


to  a youth  who  had  never  seen  the  sea,  the  son  of  Libertina,  wha 
waited  upon  one  of  the  Emperor’s  mistresses.  Returning  back  to  his 
own  vessels,  he  was  charged  with  neglect  of  duty,  and  the  ship  given 
to  a favourite  page  of  Publicola  the  vice-admiral  ; whereupon  he  re- 
tired to  a poor  farm,  at  a great  distance  from  Rome,  and  there  ended 
his  life.  I was  so  curious  to  know  the  truth  of  this  story,  that  I de- 
sired Agrippa  might  be  called,  who  was  admiral  in  that  fight.  He 
appeared  and  confirmed  the  whole  account,  but  with  much  more  ad- 
vantage to  the  captain,  whose  modesty  had  extenuated  or  concealed  a 
great  part  of  his  merit. 

I was  surprised  to  find  corruption  grown  so  high  and  so  quick  in  that 
empire,  by  the  force  of  luxury  so  lately  introduced,  which  made  me  less 
wonder  at  many  parallel  cases  in  other  countries,  where  vices  of  all 
kinds  have  reigned  so  much  longer,  and  where  the  whole  praise  as  well 
as  pillage  hath  been  engrossed  by  the  chief  commander,  who  perhaps 
had  the  least  title  to  either. 

As  every  person  called  up  made  exactly  the  same  appearance  he  had 
done  in  the  world,  it  gave  me  melancholy  reflections  to  observe  how 
much  the  race  of  human  kind  was  degenerate  among  us,  within  these 
hundred  years  past.  How  the  pox  under  all  its  consequences  and  de- 
nominations had  altered  every  lineament  of  an  English  countenance, 
shortened  the  size  of  bodies,  unbraced  the  nerves,  relaxed  the  sinews 
and  muscles,  introduced  a sallow  complexion,  and  rendered  the  flesh 
loose  and  rancid. 

I descended  so  low  as  to  desire  that  some  English  yeomen  of  the  old  t 
stamp,  might  be  summoned  to  appear,  once  so  famous  for  the  simplicity 
of  their  manners,  diet  and  dress,  for  justice  in  their  dealings,  for  their 
true  spirit  of  liberty,  for  their  valour  and  love  of  their  country.  Neither 
could  I be  wholly  unmoved  after  comparing  the  living  with  the  dead, 
when  I considered  how  all  these  pure  native  virtues  were  prostituted 
for  a piece  of  money  by  their  grand-children,  who  in  selling  their  votes, 
and  managing  at  elections,  have  acquired  everv  vice  and  corruption 
that  can  possibly  be  learned  in  a court. 

CHAPTER  IX. 

The  Author’s  Return  to  Maldonada.  Sails  to  the  Kingdom  of  Luggnagg. 

The  Author  confined.  He  is  sent  for  to  Court.  The  manner  of  his  Admit- 
tance. The  King’s  great  Lenity  to  his  Subjects. 

THE  day  of  our  departure  being  come,  I took  leave  of  his  Highness 
the  Governor  of  Glubbdubdribb,  and  returned  with  my  two  com- 
panions to  Maldonada,  where,  after  a fortnight’s  waiting,  a ship  was 
ready  to  sail  for  Luggnagg.  The  two  gentlemen  and  some  others  were 
so  generous  and  kind  as  to  furnish  me  with  provisions,  and  see  me  on 
board.  I was  a month  in  this  voyage.  We  had  one  violent  storm,  and 
were  under  a necessity  of  steering  westward  to  get  into  the  Trade-wind, 
which  holds  for  above  sixty  leagues.  On  the  21st  of  April,  17 11,  we 
sailed  in  the  River  Clumegnig,  which  is  a seaport  town,  at  the  south- 
east point  of  Luggnagg.  We  cast  anchor  within  a league  of  the  town, 
and  made  a signal  for  a pilot.  Two  of  them  came  on  board  in  less 
than  half  an  hour,  by  whom  we  were  guided  between  certain  shoals  and 


A VOYAGE  TO  LA  PUT  A > <5*f.  119 

rocks  which  are  very  dangerous  in  a passage  to  a large  basin,  where  a. 
fleet  may  ride  in  safety  within  a cable’s  length  of  the  town  wall. 

Some  of  our  sailors,  whether  out  of  treachery  or  inadvertence,  had 
informed  the  pilots  that  I was  a stranger  and  a great  traveller,  whereof 
these  gave  notice  to  a custom-house  officer,  by  whom  I was  examined 
very  strictly  upon  my  landing.  This  officer  spoke  to  me  in  the  lan- 
guage of  Balnibarbi,  which  by  the  force  of  much  commerce  is  generally 
understood  in  that  town,  especially  by  seamen,  and  those  employed  in 
the  customs.  I gave  him  a short  account  of  some  particulars,  and 
made  my  story  as  plausible  and  consistent  as  I could  ; but  I thought  it 
necessary  to  disguise  my  country,  and  call  myself  an  Hollander,  because 
my  intentions  were  for  Japan,  and  I knew  the  Dutch  were  the  only 
Europeans  permitted  to  enter  into  that  kingdom.  I therefore  told  the 
officer,  that  having  been  shipwrecked  on  the  coast  of  Balnibarbi,  and 
cast  on  a rock,  I was  received  up  into  Laputa,  or  the  flying  island  (of 
which  he  had  often  heard)  and  was  now  endeavouring  to  get  to  Japan, 
from  whence  I might  find  a convenience  of  returning  to  my  own  coun- 
try. The  officer  said  I must  be  confined  till  he  could  receive  orders 
from  court,  for  which  he  would  write  immediately,  and  hoped  to  receive 
an  answer  in  a fortnight.  I was  carried  to  a convenient  lodging,  with 
a sentry  placed  at  the  door  ; however  I had  the  liberty  of  a large  g ar- 
aen,  and  was  treated  with  humanity  enough,  being  maintained  all  the 
time  at  the  King’s  charge.  I was  invited  by  several  persons,  chiefly  out 
of  curiosity,  because  it  was  reported  that  I came  from  countries  very 
remote,  of  which  they  never  heard. 

I hired  a young  man  who  came  in  the  same  ship  to  be  an  inter* 
preter ; he  was  a native  of  Luggnagg,  but  had  lived  some  years  at 
Maldonada,  and  was  a perfect  master  of  both  languages.  By  his  assist- 
ance I was  able  to  hold  a conversation  with  those  who  came  to  visit 
me ; but  this  consisted  only  of  their  questions,  and  my  answers. 

The  dispatch  came  from  court  about  the  time  we  expected.  It  con- 
tained a warrant  for  conducting  me  and  my  retinue  to  Traldragdubb 
or  Trildrogdrib,  for  it  is  pronounced  both  ways  as  near  as  I can 
remember,  by  a party  of  ten  horse.  All  my  retinue  was  that  poor  lad 
for  an  interpreter,  whom  I persuaded  into  my  service,  and  at  my 
humble  request,  we  had  each  of  us  a mule  to  ride  on.  A messenger 
was  dispatched  half  a day’s  journey  before  us,  to  give  the  King  notice 
of  my  approach,  and  to  desire  that  his  Majesty  would  please  to  appoint 
a day  and  hour,  when  it  would  be  his  gracious  pleasure  that  I might 
have  the  honour  to  lick  the  dust  before  his  footstool . This  is  the  court 
style,  and  I found  it  to  be  more  than  matter  of  form.  For  upon  my 
admittance  two  days  after  my  arrival,  I was  commanded  to  crawl  on 
my  belly,  and  lick  the  floor  as  I advanced  ; but  on  account  of  my  being 
a stranger,  care  was  taken  to  have  it  swept  so  clean  that  the  dust  was 
not  offensive.  However,  this  was  a peculiar  grace,  not  allowed  to  any 
but  persons  of  the  highest  rank,  when  they  desire  an  admittance.  Nay, 
sometimes  the  floor  is  strewed  with  dust  on  purpose,  when  the  person 
to  be  admitted  happens  to  have  powerful  enemies  at  court.  And  I 
have  seen  a great  lord  with  his  mouth  so  crammed,  that  when  he  had 
crept  to  the  proper  distance  from  the  throne,  he  was  not  able  to  speak 
& word.  Neither  is  there  any  remedy,  because  it  is  capital  for  those 


1 20 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


,ho  “S' “ allots 

SSR  SBpr^  «-*  *•  — » *>  “ 

n0To°retarn  from  this  digression  ; when  I had  orept  ™jlEEtnking 

1XBlSS^^SS.f^^^S^ 

^&&£E£Srsgz*£< 

rendered  int  g tjjjs  the  King  returned  some  answer, 

Majesty  could  put  m atove  an  h ^ ^ ^ ^ of  Luggnagg. 

^’Wnt  was  SSugffi  with  my  company,  and  ordered  his, 
Bltffmaridub  or  high  chamberlain  to  appoint  a lodging  in t the  court  for 
Se  and  my  interpreter,  with  a daily  allowance  for  my  table,  and  a large, 

T^S»*S!  out  of  perfect  obedience  to  his 

Mijls,;  who  »,  pjeased  highly  to  <=,  »e  and  rn.de  me  * * 

SiSto  » % to  ;iS“«  of  »r  ^ «*■> -or «“  “d  ‘'"•“f 


A VOYAGE  TO  LAPUTA,  G-* 


121 


CHAPTER  X 

The  Ltiggnuggians  commended.  A particular  description  of  the  Struldbrugs, 
with  many  conversations  between  the  author  and  some  eminent  persons  upon 
that  subject 

THE  Luggnuggians  are  a polite  and  generous  people,  and  although 
they  are  not  without  some  share  of  that  pride  which  is  peculiar 
to  all  eastern  countries,  yet  they  shew  themselves  courteous  to  strangers, 
especially  such  who  are  countenanced  by  the  court.  I had  many  ac- 
quaintances among  persons  of  the  best  fashion,  and  being  always 
attended  by  my  interpreter,  the  conversation  we  had  was  not  dis- 
agreeable. 

One  day  in  much  good  company  I was  ashed  by  a person  of  quality, 
whether  I had  seen  any  of  their  Struldbrugs  or  immortals.  I said  I 
had  not,  and  desired  he  would  explain  to  me  what  he  meant  by  such 
an  appellation  applied  to  a mortal  creature.  He  told  me,  that  some- 
times, though  very  rarely,  a child  happened  to  be  born  in  a family  with 
a red  circular  spot  in  the  forehead,  directly  over  the  left  eyebrow,  which 
was  an  infallible  mark  that  it  should  never  die.  The  spot,  as  he 
described  it,  was  about  the  compass  of  a silver  threepence,  but  in  the 
course  of  time  grew  larger,  and  changed  its  colour ; for  at  twelve  years 
old  it  became  green,  so  continued  till  five-and-twenty,  then  turned  to  a 
deep  blue ; at  five-and-forty  it  grew  coal  black,  and  as  large  as  an 
English  shilling,  but  never  admitted  any  farther  alteration.  He  said 
these  births  were  so  rare,  that  he  did  not  believe  there  could  be  above 
eleven  hundred  Struldbrugs  of  both  sexes  in  the  whole  kingdom,  of 
which  he  computed  about  fifty  in  the  metropolis,  and  among  the  rest 
a young  girl  born  about  three  years  ago.  That  these  productions  were 
not  peculiar  to  any  family  but  a mere  effect  of  chance,  and  the  children 
of  the  Struldbrugs  themselves,  were  equally  mortal  with  the  rest  of  the 
people. 

I freely  own  myself  to  have  been  struck  with  inexpressible  delight 
upon  hearing  this  account : and  the  person  who  gave  it  me  happening 
to  understand  the  Balnibarbian  language,  which  I spoke  very  well,  I 
could  not  forbear  breaking  out  into  expressions  perhaps  a little  too 
extravagant.  I cried  out  as  in  a rapture  ; “ Happy  nation  where  every 
child  hath  at  least  a chance  for  being  immortal ! happy  people  who 
enjoy  so  many  living  examples  of  ancient  virtue,  and  have  masters 
ready  to  instruct  them  in  the  wisdom  of  all  former  ages  ! But,  happiest 
beyond  all  comparison  are  those  excellent  Struldbrugs,  who  born 
exempt  from  that  universal  calamity  of  human  nature,  have  their  minds 
free  and  disengaged,  without  the  weight  and  depression  of  spirits  caused 
by  the  continual  apprehension  of  death.”  I discovered  my  admiration 
that  I had  not  observed  any  of  these  illustrious  persons  at  court : the 
black  spot  on  the  forehead,  being  so  remarkable  a distinction,  that  I 
could  not  have  easily  overlooked  it : and  it  was  impossible  that  his 
Majesty,  a most  judicious  prince,  should  not  provide  himself  with  a 
good  number  of  such  wise  and  able  counsellors.  Yet  perhaps  the 
virtue  of  those  reverend  sages  was  too  strict  for  the  corrupt  and  liber- 
tine manners  of  a court.  And  we  pften  find  by  experience  that  young 


122 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


men  are  too  opinionative  and  volatile  to  be  guided  by  the  sober  dictates 
of  their  seniors.  However,  since  the  King  was  pleased  to  allow  me 
access  to  his  royal  person,  I was  resolved  upon  the  very,  first  occasion 
to  deliver  my  opinion  to  him  on  this  matter  freely  and  at  large  by  the 
help  of  my  interpreter;  and  whether  he  would  please  to  take  my  advice 
or  no,  yet  in  one  thing  I was  determined,  that  his  Majesty,  having 
frequently  offered  me  an  establishment  in  this  country,  I would  with 
great  thankfulness  accept  the  favour,  and  pass  my  life  here  in  the  con- 
versation of  those  superior  beings  the  Struldbrugs,  if  they  would  please 
to  admit  me. 

The  gentleman  to  whom  I addressed  my  discourse,  because  (as  I have 
already  observed)  he  spoke  the  language  of  Balnibarbi,  said  to  me  with  a 
sort  of  a smile,  which  usually  ariseth  from  pity  to  the  ignorant,  that  he 
was  glad  of  any  occasion  to  keep  me  among  them,  and  desired  my 
permission  to  explain  to  the  company  what  I had  spoke.  He  did  so, 
and  they  talked  together  for  some  time  in  their  own  language,  whereof 
I understood  not  a syllable,  neither  could  I observe  by  their  coun- 
tenances what  impression  my  discourse  had  made  on  them.  After  a 
short  silence  the  same  person  told  me,  that  his  friends  and  mine  (so 
he  thought  fit  to  express  himself)  were  very  much  pleased  with  the 
judicious  remarks  I had  made  on  the  great  happiness  and  advantages 
of  immortal  life,  and  they  were  desirous  to  know  in  a particular  manner, 
what  scheme  of  living  I should  have  formed  to  myself,  if  it  had  fallen 
to  my  lot  to  have  been  born  a Struldbrug. 

I answered,  it  was  easy  to  be  eloquent  on  so  copious  and  delightful 
a subject,  especially  to  me,  who  have  been  often  apt  to  amuse  myself 
with  visions  of  what  I should  do  if  I were  a king,  a general,  or  a great  ! 
lord  : and  upon  this  very  case  I had  frequently  run  over  the  whole 
system  how  I should  employ  myself,  and  pass  the  time  if  I were  sure 
to  live  for  ever. 

That,  if  it  had  been  my  good  fortune  to  come  into  the  world  a Struld-  1 
brug,  as  soon  as  I could  discover  my  own  happiness  by  understanding 
the  difference  between  life  and  death,  I would  first  resolve  by  all  arts 
and  methods  whatsoever  to  procure  myself  riches.  In  the  pursuit  of 
w'hich  by  thrift  and  management,  I might  reasonably  expect  in  about 
two  hundred  years,  to  be  the  wealthiest  man  in  the  kingdom.  In  the 
second  place,  I would  from  my  earliest  youth  apply  myself  to  the  study 
of  arts  and  sciences,  by  which  I should  arrive  in  time  to  excel  all  others 
in  learning.  Lastly,  I would  carefully  record  every  action  and  event 
of  consequence  that  happened  in  the  public,  impartially  draw  the 
characters  of  the  several  successions  of  princes,  and  great  ministers  of 
state,  with  my  own  observations  on  every  point.  I would  exactly  set 
down  the  several  changes  in  customs,  languages,  fashions,  dress,  diet, 
and  diversions.  By  all  which  acquirements,  I should  be  a living  trea- 
sury of  knowledge  and  wisdom,  and  certainly  become  the  oracle  of  the 
nation. 

I would  never  marry  after  threescore,  but  live  in  a hospitable  manner, 
yet  still  on  the  saving  side.  T would  entertain  myself  in  terming  and 
directing  the  minds  of  hopeful  young  men,  by  convincing  them  from 
ny  own  remembrance,  experience  and  observation,  fortified  by  numer- 
ous examples,  of  the  userulness  of  virtue  n public  and  private  life. 


A VOYAGE  TO  LA  PUT  A, 


123 


Bat  my  choice  and  constant  companions  should  be  a set  of  my  own 
immortal  brotherhood,  among  whom  1 would  elect  a dozen  from  the 
most  ancient  down  to  my  own  contemporaries.  Where  any  of  these 
wanted  fortunes,  I would  provide  them  with  convenient  lodges  round 
my  own  estate,  and  have  some  of  them  always  at  my  table,  only  ming- 
ling a few  of  the  most  valuable  among  you  mortals,  whom  length  of 
time  would  harden  me  to  lose  with  little  or  no  reluctance,  and  treat 
your  posterity  after  the  same  manner,  just  as  a man  diverts  himself 
with  the  annual  succession  of  pinks  and  tulips  in  his  garden,  without 
regretting  the  loss  of  those  which  withered  the  preceding  year. 

These  Struldbruggs,  and  I would  mutually  communicate  our  obser- 
vations and  memorials  through  the  course  of  time,  remark  the  several 
gradations  by  which  corruption  steals  into  the  world,  and  oppose  it  in 
every  step  by  giving  perpetual  warning  and  instruction  to  mankind, 
which,  added  to  the  strong  influence  of  our  own  example,  would  pro- 
bably prevent  that  continual  degeneracy  of  human  nature  so  justly 
complained  of  in  all  ages. 

Add  to  all  this  the  pleasure  of  seeing  the  various  revolutions  of  States 
and  empires,  the  changes  in  the  lower  and  upper  world,  ancient  cities 
in  ruins,  and  obscure  villages  become  the  seats  of  kings.  Famous 
rivers  lessening  into  shallow  brooks,  the  ocean  leaving  one  coast  dry, 
and  overwhelming  another  ; the  discovery  of  many  countries  yet  un- 
known. Barbarity  overrunning  the  politest  nations,  and  the  most  bar- 
barous become  civilized.  I should  then  see  the  discovery  of  the  longi- 
tude, the  perpetual  motion,  the  universal  medicine,  and  many  other 
great  inventions,  brought  to  the  utmost  perfection. 

What  wonderful  discoveries  should  we  make  in  astronomy  by  out- 
living and  confirming  our  own  predictions,  by  observing  the  progress 
and  returns  of  comets,  with  the  changes  of  motion  in  the  sun,  moon, 
and  stars.  / 

I enlarged  upon  many  other  topics  which  the  natural  desire  of  end- 
less life  and  sublunary  happiness  could  easily  furnish  me  with.  When 
I had  ended,  and  the  sum  of  my  discourse  had  been  interpreted  as 
before  to  the  rest  of  the  company,  there  was  a good  deal  of  talk  among 
them  in  the  language  of  the  country,  not  without  some  laughter  at  my 
expense.  At  last  tne  same  gentleman,  who  had  been  my  interpreter, 
said  he  was  desired  by  tne  rest  to  set  me  right  in  a few  mistakes,  which 
I had  fallen  into  through  the  common  imbecility  of  human  nature,  and 
upon  that  allowance  was  less  answerable  for  them.  That  this  breed  ot 
Struldbruggs  was  peculiar  to  their  county,  for  there  were  no  such  people 
either  in  Balnibarbi  or  Japan  where  he  had  the  honour  to  be  ambassador 
from  his  Majesty,  and  found  the  natives  in  both  these  kingdoms  very 
hard  to  believe  that  the  fact  was  possible,  and  it  appeared  from  my 
astonishment  when  he  first  mentioned  the  matter  to  me  that  I received 
it  as  a thing  wholly  new,  and  scarcely  to  be  credited.  That  in  the  two 
kingdoms  above  mentioned,  where  during  his  residence  he  had  converse 
very  much,  he  observed  long  Hie  to  be  the  universal  desire  and  wish  of 
mankind.  That  whoever  had  one  foot  in  the  grave  was  sure  to  hold 
back  the  other  as  strongly  as  he  could.  That  the  eldest  had  still  hopes 
of  living  one  day  loiger,  and  looked  on  death  as  the  greatest  evil,  from 
which  nature  always  prompted  him  to  retreat ; only  in  this  island  o: 


124 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS . 


Luggnagg  the  appetite  for  living  was  not  so  eager,  from  the  continual 
example  of  the  Struldbruggs  before  their  eyes. 

That  the  system  of  living  contrived  by  me  was  unreasonable  and  un- 
just, because  it  supposed  a perpetuity  of  youtji,  health,  and  vigour,  which 
no  man  could  be  so  foolish  to  hope,  however  extravagant  he  may  be  in 
his  wishes.  That  the  question  therefore  was  not  whether  a man  would 
choose  to  be  always  in  the  prime  of  youth,  attended  with  prosperityand 
health,  but  how  he  would  pass  a perpetual  life  under  all  the  usual  disad- 
vantages which  old  age  brings  along  with  it.  For,  although  few  men  will 
avow  their  desires  of  being  immortal  upon  such  hard  conditions,  yet  in 
the  two  kingdoms  before  mentioned  of  Balnibarbi  and  Japan  he  observed 
that  every  man  desired  to  put  off  death  for  some  time  longer,  let  it  ap- 
proach ever  so  late,  and  he  rarely  heard  of  any  man  who  died  willingly, 
except  he  were  incited  by  the  extremity  of  grief  or  torture.  And  he 
appealed  to  me  whether  in  those  countries  I had  travelled  as  well  as 
my  own,  I had  not  observed  the  same  general  disposition. 

After  this  preface  he  gave  me  a particular  account  of  the  Struldbruggs 
among  them.  He  said  they  commonly  acted  like  mortals  till  about 
thirty  years  old,  after  which  by  degrees  they  grew  melancholy  and  de- 
jected, increasing  in  both  till  they  came  to  four-score.  This  he  learned 
from  their  own  confession  ; for,  otherwise,  there  not  being  above  two 
or  three  of  that  species  born  in  an  age,  were  too  few  to  form  a general 
observation  by.  When  they  came  to  four-score  years,  which  is  reckoned 
the  extremity  of  living  in  this  country,  they  had  not  only  all  the  follies 
and  infirmities  of  other  old  men,  but  many  more  which  arose  from  the 
dreadful  prospects  of  never  dying.  They  were  not  only  opinionative, 
peevish,  covetous,  morose,  vain,  talkative,  but  incapable  of  friendship, 
and  dead  to  all  natural  affection,  which  never  descended  below  their 
grandchildren.  Envy  and  impotent  desires  are  their  prevailing  passions. 
But  those  objects  against  which  their  envy  seems  principally  directed, 
are  the  vices  of  the  younger  sort,  and  the  deaths  of  the  old.  By  re- 
flecting on  the  former  they  find  themselves  cut  off  from  all  possibility 
of  pleasure  ; and  whenever  they  see  a funeral  they  lament  and  repine 
that  others  are  gone  to  an  harbour  of  rest,  to  which  they  themselves 
never  can  hope  to  arrive.  They  have  no  remembrance  of  anything  but 
what  they  learned  and  observed  in  their  youth  and  middle  age,  and 
even  that  is  very  imperfect.  And  for  the  truth  or  particulars  of  any 
fact  it  is  safer  to  depend  on  common  traditions  than  upon  their  best  re-  , 
collections.  The  least  miserable  among  them  appear  to  be  those  who 
turn  to  dotage,  and  entirely  lose  their  memories  ; these  meet  with  more 
pity  and  assistance,  because  they  want  many  bad  qualities  which  abound 
rn  others. 

If  a Struldbrugg  happen  to  marry  one  of  his  own  kind  the  marriage 
is  dissolved  of  course  by  the  courtesy  of  the  kingdom  as  soon  as  the 
younger  of  the  two  come  to  be  four-score.  For  the  law  thinks  it  a 
reasonable  indulgence  that  those  who  are  condemned  without  any  fault 
of  their  own  to  a perpetual  continuance  in  the  world  should  not  have 
their  misery  doubled  by  the  load  of  a wife. 

As  soon  as  they  have  completed  the  term  of  eighty  years  they  are 
looked  on  as  dead  in  law ; their  heirs  immediately  succeed  to  their 
estates,  only  a small  pittance  is  reserved  for  their  support,  and  the  pool 


A VOYAGE  TO  LA  PUT  A t &c.  I2j 

ones  are  maintained  at  the  public  charge.  After  that  period  they  are 
held  incapable  of  any  employment  of  trust  or  profit,  they  cannot  pur- 
chase lands  or  take  leases,  neither  are  they  allowed  to  be  witnesses  in 
any  cause,  either  civil  or  criminal,  not  even  for  the  decision  of  meers 
and  bounds. 

At  ninety  they  lose  their  teeth  and  hair  ; they  have  at  that  age  no 
distinction  of  taste,  but  eat  and  drink  whatever  they  can  get  without 
relish  or  appetite ; the  diseases  they  were  subject  to  still  continuing 
without  increasing  or  diminishing.  In  talking  they  forget  the  common 
appellation  of  things,  and  the  names  of  persons,  even  of  those  who  are 
their  nearest  friends  and  relations.  For  the  same  reason  they  never 
can  amuse  themselves  with  reading,  because  their  memory  will  not 
serve  to  carry  them  from  the  beginning  of  a sentence  to  the  end  ; and 
by  this  defect  they  are  deprived  of  the  only  entertainment  whereof  they 
might  otherwise  be  capable. 

The  language  of  this  country  being  always  upon  the  flux,  the  Struld- 
bruggs  of  one  age  do  not  understand  those  of  another,  neither  are  they 
able  after  two  hundred  years  to  hold  any  conversation  (farther  than  by 
a few  general  words)  with  their  neighbours  the  mortals,  and  thus  they 
lie  under  the  disadvantage  of  living  like  foreigners  in  their  own  country. 

This  was  the  account  given  me  of  the  Struldbruggs,  as  near  as  I can 
remember.  I afterwards  saw  five  or  six  of  different  ages,  the  youngest 
not  above  two  hundred  years  old,  who  were  brought  me  at  several  times 
by  some  of  my  friends  ; but  although  they  were  told  that  I was  a great 
traveller,  and  had  seen  all  the  world,  they  had  not  the  least  curiosity  to 
ask  me  a question  ; only  desired  I would  give  them  Slumskudask,  or  a 
token  of  remembrance,  which  is  a modest  way  of  begging,  to  avoid  the 
law  that  strictly  forbids  it,  because  they  are  provided  for  by  the  public, 
although  indeed  with  a very  scanty  allowance. 

They  are  deprived  and  hated  by  all  sort  of  people  ; when  one  of  them 
is  born  it  is  reckoned  ominous,  and  their  birth  is  recorded  very  par- 
ticularly, so  that  you  may  know  their  age  by  consulting  the  registry, 
which  however  hath  not  been  kept  above  a thousand  years  past,  or  at 
least  hath  been  destroyed  by  time  or  public  disturbances.  But  the  usual 
way  of  computing  how  old  they  are  is  by  asking  them  what  kings  or 
great  persons  they  d&n  remember,  and  then  consulting  history,  for  in- 
fallibly the  last  prince  in  their  mind,  did  not  begin  his  reign  after  they 
were  four-score  years  old. 

They  were  the  most  mortifying  sight  I ever  beheld,  and  the  women 
more  horrible  than  the  men.  Besides  the  usual  deformities  in  extreme 
old  age,  they  acquired  an  additional  ghastliness  in  proportion  to  their 
number  of  years,  which  is  not  to  be  described,  and  among  half  a dozen 
I soon  distinguished  which  was  the  eldest,  although  there  was  not  above 
a century  or  two  between  them. 

The  reader  will  easily  believe  that  from  what  I had  heard  and  seen 
my  keen  appetite  tor  perpetuity  of  life  was  much  abated.  I grew  heartily 
ashamed  of  the  pleasing  visions  I had  formed,  and  thought  no  tyrant 
could  invent  a death  into  which  I would  not  run  with  pleasure  from  such 
a life.  The  King  heard  of  all  that  had  passed  between  me  and  my 
friends  upon  this  occasion,  and  rallied  me  very  pleasantly,  wishing  I 
would  send  a couple  of  Struldbruggs  to  my  own  country  to  arm  out 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS . 


12$ 

people  against  the  fear  of  death  ; but  this  it  seems,  is  forbidden  by  the 
fundamental  laws  of  the  kingdom,  or  else  I should  have  been  well  con- 
tent with  the  trouble  and  expense  of  transporting  them. 

I could  not  but  agree  that  the  laws  of  this  kingdom  relating  to  the 
Struldbruggs  were  founded  upon  the  strongest  reasons,  and  such  as  any 
other  country  would  be  under  the  necessity  of  enacting  in  the  like  cir- 
cumstances. Otherwise,  as  avarice  is  the  necessary  consequence  of  old 
age,  those  immortals  would  in  time  become  proprietors  of  the  whole 
nation,  and  engross  the  civil  power,  which,  for  want  of  abilities  to  ma- 
nage, must  end  in  the  ruin  of  the  public. 

CHAPTER  XI. 

The  author  leaves  Luggnagg,  and  sails  to  Japan.  From  thence  he  returns  in  a 
Dutch  ship  to  Amsterdam,  and  from  Amsterdam  to  England. 

ITHOUHT  this  account  of  the  Struldbruggs  might  be  some  enter- 
tainment to  the  reader,  because  it  seems  to  be  a little  out  of  the 
common  way  ; at  least,  I do  not  remember  to  have  met  the  like  in  any 
book  of  travels  that  hath  come  to  my  hands.  And  if  I am  deceived,  my 
excuse  must  be  that  it  is  necessary  for  travellers,  who  describe  the  same 
country,  very  often  to  agree  in  dwelling  on  the  same  particulars  without 
deserving  the  censure  of  having  borrowed  or  transcribed  from  those  who 
wrote  before  them. 

There  is  indeed  a perpetual  commerce  between  this  kingdom  and  the 
great  empire  of  Japan,  and  it  is  very  probable  that  the  Japanese  authors 
may  have  given  some  account  of  the  Struldbruggs  ; but  my  stay  in 
Japan  was  so  short,  and  I was  so  entirely  a stranger  to  that  language, 
that  I was  not  qualified  to  make  any  inquiries.  But  I hope  the  Dutch, 
upon  this  notice,  will  be  curious  and  able  enough  to  supply  my  defects. 

His  Majesty  having  often  pressed  me  to  accept  some  employment  in 
his  court,  and  finding  me  absolutely  determined  to  return  to  my  native 
country,  was  pleased  to  give  me  his  license  to  depart,  and  honoured  me 
with  a letter  of  recommendation  under  his  own  hand  to  the  Emperor  of 
Japan.  He  likewise  presented  me  with  four  hundred  forty-four  large 
pieces  of  gold  (this  nation  delighting  in  even  numbers)  and  a red  dia- 
mond, which  I sold  in  England  for  eleven  hundred  pounds. 

On  the  6th  day  of  May,  1709, 1 took  a solemn  leave  of  his  Majesty, 
and  all  my  friends.  This  Prince  was  so  gracious  as  to  order  a guard 
to  conduct  me  to  Glanguenstald,  which  is  a royal  port  to  the  south- 
west part  of  the  island.  In  six  days  1 found  a vessel  ready  to  carry  me 
to  Japan,  and  spent  fifteen  days  in  the  voyage.  We  landed  at  a small  j 
port  town  called  Xamoschi,  situated  on  the  south-east  part  of  Japan  ; 
the  town  lies  on  the  western  point  where  there  is  a narrow  strait, 
leading  northward  into  a long  arm  of  the  sea,  upon  the  north-west  part 
of  which  Yedo,  the  metropolis,  stands.  At  landing,  I showed  the  cus- 
tom house  officers  my  letter  from  the  King  of  Luggnagg  to  his  Imperial 
Majesty.  They  knew  the  seal  perfectly  well ; it  was  as  broad  as  the 
palm  of  my  hand.  The  impression  was,  A King  lifting  up  a lame  beggar 
from  the  earth.  The  magistrates  of  the  town  hearing  of  my  letter,  re- 
ceived me  as  a public  minister  ; they  provided  me  with  carriages  and 
servants,  and  bore  my  charges  to  Yedo,  where  I was  admitted  to  an  au- 


A VOYAGE  TO  LAPUTA%  &*. 


127 


dience,and  delivered  my  letter,  which  was  opened  with  great  ceremony, 
and  explained  to  the  Emperor  by  an  interpreter,  who  then  gave  me 
notice  by  his  Majesty’s  order  that  I should  signify  my  request,  and 
whatever  it  were  it  should  be  granted  for  the  sake  of  his  royal  brother 
of  Luggnagg.  This  interpreter  was  a person  employed  to  transact  affairs 
with  the  Hollanders  ; he  soon  conjectured  by  my  countenance  that  I w^as 
an  European,  and  therefore  repeated  his  Majesty’s  commands  in  Low 
Dutch,  which  he  spoke  perfectly  well.  I answered  (as  I had  before  de- 
termined) that  I was  a Dutch  merchant,  shipwrecked  in  a very  remote 
country,  from  whence  I travelled  by  sea  and  land  to  Luggnagg,  and  then 
took  shipping  for  Japan,  where  I knew  my  countrymen  often  traded,  and 
with  some  of  these  I hoped  to  get  an  opportunity  of  returning  into 
Europe.  I therefore  most  humbly  entreated  his  royal  favour  to  give 
order  that  I should  be  conducted  in  safety  to  Nangasac.  To  this  I 
added  another  petition  that,  for  the  sake  of  my  patron  the  King  of  Lugg- 
nagg, his  Majesty  would  condescend  to  excuse  my  performing  the  cere- 
mony imposed  on  my  countrymen  of  trampling  upon  the  crucifix,  because 
I had  been  thrown  into  his  kingdom  by  my  misfortunes  without  any 
intention  of  trading.  When  this  latter  petition  was  interpreted  to  the 
Emperor,  he  seemed  a little  surprised,  and'  said  he  believed  I was  the 
first  of  my  countrymen  who  ever  made  any  scruple  in  this  point,  and 
that  he  began  to  doubt  whether  I was  a real  Hollander  or  no,  but  rather 
suspected  I must  be  a Christian.  However,  for  the  reasons  I had  offered, 
but  chiefly  to  gratify  the  King  of  Luggnagg  by  an  uncommon  mark  of 
his  favour,  he  would  comply  with  the  singularity  of  my  humour  ; but  the 
affair  must  be  managed  with  dexterity,  and  his  officers  should  be  com- 
manded to  let  me  pass  as  it  were  by  forgetfulness.  For  he  assured  me 
that  if  the  secret  should  be  discovered  by  my  countrymen,  the  Dutch, 
they  would  cut  my  throat  in  the  voyage.  I returned  my  thanks  by  the 
interpreter  for  so  unusual  a favour,  and  some  troops  being  at  that  time 
on  their  march  to  Nangasac,  the  commanding  officer  had  orders  to  con- 
vey me  safe  thither,  with  particular  instructions  about  the  business  of 
the  crucifix. 

On  the  9th  day  of  June,  1709, 1 arrived  at  Nangasac  after  a very  long 
and  troublesome  * soon  ien  into  company  <?/  ^me  Dutch 

sailors  thonging  to  the  Amboyna,  of  Amsterdam,  a stout  ship  of  450 
tons.  I had  lived  long  in  Holland,  pursuing  my  studies  at  Leyden,  and 
I spoke  Dutch  well.  The  seamen  soon  knew  from  whence  I came  last  $ 
they  were  curious  to  inquire  into  my  voyages  and  course  of  life.  I made 
up  a story  as  short  and  probable  as  I could,  but  concealed  the  greatest 
part.  I knew  many  persons  in  Holland.  I was  able  to  invent  names 
for  my  parents,  whom  I pretended  to  be  obscure  people  in  the  province 
of  Gelderland.  I would  have  given  the  captain  (one  Theodorus  Van- 
grult)  what  he  pleased  to  ask  ior  my  voyage  to  Holland  ; but  under- 
standing I was  a surgeon,  he  w as  contented  to  take  half  the  usual  rate, 
on  condition  that  I would  serve  him  in  the  way  of  my  calling.  Before 
we  took  shipping  I was  often  asked  by  some  of  the  crew',  whether  I had 
performed  the  ceremony  above-mentioned.  I evaded  the  question  by 
general  answers  that  I had  satisfied  the  Emperor  and  court  in  all  par- 
ticulars. However,  a malicious  rogue  of  a skipper  went  to  an  officer, 
and  pointing  to  me  told  him  i had  not  yet  trampled  on  the  crucifix. 


123 


DEAN  SWIRT'S  WORKS. 


But  the  other,  who  had  received  instructions  to  let  me  pass,  gav«  the 
rascal  twenty  strokes  on  the  shoulders  with  a bamboo,  after  which  I was 
no  more  troubled  with  such  questions 

Nothing  happened  worth  mentioning  in  this  voyage.  We  sailed  with 
a fair  wind  to  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  where  we  stayed  only  to  take  in 
fresh  water.  On  the  16th  of  April  we  arrived  safe  to  Amsterdam,  having 
lost  only  three  men  by  sickness  in  the  voyage,  and  a fourth  who  feil 
from  the  foremast  into  the  sea,  not  far  from  the  coast  of  Guinea.  From 
Amsterdam  I soon  after  set  sail  for  England  in  a small  vessel  belonging 
to  that  city. 

On  the  ioth  of  April,  1710,  we  put  in  at  the  Downs.  I landed  the 
next  morning,  and  saw  once  more  my  native  country,  after  an  absence 
of  five  years  and  six  months  complete.  I went  straight  to  Redriff, 
where  I arrived  the  same  day  at  two  in  the  afternoon,  and  found  my 
wife  and  family  in  good  health. 


I 

i 

i 

\ 


TOE  END  OP  THE  THIRD  PART# 


PART  IV. 


A VOYAGE  TO  THE  COUNTRY  OF  THE 
HOUYHNHNMS. 

CHAPTER  I. 

The  author  sets  out  as  captain  of  a ship.  His  men  conspire  against  him,  confine 
him  a long  time  to  his  cabin,  set  him  on  shore  in  an  unknown  lanch  He  tra- 
vels up  in  the  country.  The  Yahoos,  a strange  sort  of  animal,  described. 
The  author  meets  two  Houyhnhnms. 

I CONTINUED  at  home  with  my  wife  and  children  about  five  months 
in  a very  happy  condition,  if  I could  have  learned  the  lesson  of 
knowing  when  I was  well.  I left  my  poor  wife  big  with  child,  and  ac- 
cepted an  advantageous  offer  made  me  to  be  captain  of  the  Adventure, 
a stout  merchantman  of  350  tons.  For  I understood  navigation  well, 
and  being  grown  weary  of  a surgeon’s  employment  at  sea,  which  how- 
ever I could  exercise  upon  occasion,  I took  a skilful  young  man  of  that 
calling,  one  Robert  Purefoy,  into  my  ship.  We  set  sail  from  Ports- 
mouth  upon  the  second  day  of  August,  1710;  on  the  fourteenth  we  met 
with  Captain  Pocock,  of  Bristol,  at  Tenariff,  who  was  going  to  the  Bay 
of  Campechy  to  cut  logwood.  On  the  sixteenth  he  was  parted  from  us 
by  a storm  ; I heard  since  my  return  that  his  ship  foundered,  and  none 
escaped,  but  one  cabin-boy.  He  was  an  honest  man  and  a good  sailor, 
but  a little  too  positive  in  his  own  opinions,  which  was  the  cause  of  his 
destruction,  as  it  hath  been  of  several  others.  For  if  he  had  followed 
my  advice,  he  might  have  been  safe  at  home  with  his  family  at  this  time 
as  well  as  myself. 

I had  several  men  died  in  my  ship  of  calentures,  so That  I was  forced 
to  get  recruits  out  of  Barbadoes  and  the  Leeward  Islands,  where  I 
touched  by  the  direction  of  the  merchants  who  employed  me,  which  I 

had  soon  too  much  cause  to  repent,  tor  I found  afterwards  that  most  of 

9 


LEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


*3*  0 

them  had  been  buccaneers.  I had  fifty  hands  on  board,  and  my  orders 
were  that  I should  trade  with  the  Indians  in  the  South  Sea,  and  make 
what  discoveries  I could.  . These  rogues  whom  I had  picked  up  de- 
bauched my  other  men,  and  they  all  formed  a conspiracy  to  seize  the 
ship  and  secure  me  ; which  they  did  one  morning,  rushing  into  my 
cabin,  and  binding  me  hand  and  foot,  threatening  to  throw  me  over- 
board if  I offered  to  stir.  I told  them  I was  their  prisoner,  and  would 
submit.  This  they  made  me  swear  to  do,  and  then  they  unbound  me, 
only  fastening  one  of  my  legs  with  a chain  near  my  bed,  and  placed  a 
sentry  at  my  door  with  his  piece  charged,  who  was  commanded  to  shoot 
me  dead  if  I attempted  my  liberty.  They  sent  me  down  victuals  and 
drink,  and  took  the  government  of  the  ship  to  themselves.  Their  de- 
sign was  to  turn  pirates,  and  plunder  the  Spaniards,  which  they  could 
not  do  till  they  got  more  men.  But,  first,  they  resolved  to  sell  the  goods 
in  the  ship,  and  then  go  to  Madagascar  for  recruits,  several  among 
them  having  died  since  my  confinement.  They  sailed  many  weeks, 
and  traded  with  the  Indians,  but  I knew  not  what  course  they  took 
being  kept  a close  prisoner  in  my  cabin,  and  expecting  nothing  less  than 
to  be  murdered,  as  they  often  threatened  me. 

Upon  the  ninth  day  of  May,  17 n,  one  James  Welch  came  down  to 
my  cabin,  and  said  he  had  orders  from  the  captain  to  set  me  ashore.  1 
expostulated  with  him,  but  in  vain  ; neither  would  he  so  much  as  tell 
me  who  their  new  captain  was.  They  forced  me  into  the  long-boat, 
letting  me  put  on  my  best  suit  of  clothes,  which  were  as  good  as  new, 
and  a small  bundle  of  linen,  but  no  arms  except  my  hanger  ; and  they 
were  so  civil  as  not  to  search  my  pockets,  into  which  I conveyed  what 
money  I had,  with  some  other  little  necessaries.  They  rowed  about  a 
league,  and  then  set  me  down  on  a strand.  I desired  them  to  tell  me 
what  country  it  was.  They  all  swore  they  knew  no  more  than  myself, 
but  said  that  the  captain  (as  they  called  him)  was  resolved,  after  they 
had  sold  the  lading,  to  get  rid  of  me  in  the  first  place,  where  they  could 
discover  land.  They  pushed  off  immediately,  advising  me  to  make 
haste  for  fear  of  being  overtaken  by  the  tide,  and  so  bade  me  farewell. 

In  this  desolate  condition  I advanced  forward,  and  soon  got  upon 
firm  ground,  where  I sat  down  on  a bank  to  rest  mvself,  and  consider 
what  I had  best  do.  When  I was  a little  refreshed  I went  up  into  the 
country,  resolving  to  deliver  myself  to  the  first  savages  I should  meet, 
and  purchase  my  life  from  them  by  some  bracelets,  glass  rings,  and 
other  toys,  which  sailors  usually  provide  themselves  with  in  those 
voyages,  and  whereof  I had  some  about  me.  The  land  was  divided  by 
long  rows  of  trees  not  regularly  planted,  but  naturally  growing  ; there 
was  great  plenty  of  grass,  and  several  fields  of  oats.  I walked  very 
circumspectly  for  fear  of  being  surprised,  or  suddenly  shot  with  an 
arrow  from  behind  or  on  either  side.  I fell  into  a beaten  road,  where 
I saw'  many  tracks  of  human  feet,  and  some  of  cow's,  but  most  of  horses. 
At  last  1 beheld  several  animals  in  a field,  and  one  or  two  of  the  same 
kind  sitting  in  trees.  Their  shape  w>as  very  singular  and  deformed, 
which  a little  discomposed  me,  so  that  I lay  down  behind  a thicket  to 
observe  them  better.  Some  of  them  coming  forward  near  the  place 
where  I lay,  gave  me  an  opportunity  or  distinctly  marking  their  form 
Their  heads  and  breasts  were  covered  with  a thick  hair,  some  frizzled, 


9 


f 


The  Library 

of  the 

University  of  IIHnei* 


A VOYAGE  TO  THE  HOUYHNHNMS.  (•)  131 

and  others  lank,  they  had  beards  like  goats,  and  a long  ridge  of  hair 
down  their  backs  and  the  fore-parts  of  their  legs  and  feet,  but  the  rest 
of  their  bodies  were  bare  so  that  I might  see  their  skins,  which  were  of 
a brown  buff  colour.  They  had  no  tails,  nor  any  hair  at  all  on  their 
buttocks,  except  about  the  anus,  which,  I presume,  nature  had  placed 
there  to  defend  them  as  they  sat  on  the  ground  ; for  the  posture  they 
used  as  well  as  lying  down,  and  often  stood  on  their  hind  feet.  They 
climbed  high  trees  as  nimbly  as  a squirrel,  for  they  had  strong  extended 
claws  before  and  behind,  terminating  in  sharp  points,  hooked.  They 
would  often  spring  and  bound,  and  leap  with  prodigious  agility.  The 
females  were  not  so  large  as  the  males  : they  had  long,  lank  hair  on 
their  faces,  nor  anything  more  than  a sort  of  down  on  the  rest  of  their 
bodies,  except  about  the  anus  and  pudenda.  Their  dugs  hung  between 
their  fore  feet,  and  often  reached  almost  to  the  ground  as  they  walked. 
The  hair  of  both  sexes  was  of  several  colours,— -brown,  red,  black,  and 
yellow.  U pon  the  whole,  I never  beheld  in  all  my  travels  so  disagreeable 
an  animal,  nor  one  against  which  I naturally  conceived  so  strong  an 
antipathy.  So  that,  thinking  I had  seen  enough,  full  of  contempt  and 
aversion,  I got  up  and  pursued  the  beaten  road,  hoping  it  might  direct 
me  to  the  cabin  of  some  Indian.  I had  not  gone  far  when  I met  one 
of  these  creatures  full  in  my  way,  and  coming  up  directly  to  me.  The 
ugly  monster,  when  he  saw  me,  distorted  several  ways  every  feature  of 
his  visage,  and  started  as  at  an  object  he  had  never  seen  before  ; then, 
approaching  nearer,  lifted  up  his  fore-paw,  whether  out  of  curiosity  or 
mischief  I could  not  tell.  But  I drew  my  hanger,  and  gave  him  a good 
blow  with  the  flat  side  of  it,  for  I durst  not  strike  him  with  the  edge, 
fearing  the  inhabitants  might  be  provoked  against  me  if  they  should 
come  to  know  that  I had  killed  or  maimed  any  of  their  cattle.  When 
the  beast  felt  the  smart  he  drew  back,  and  roared  so  loud  that  a herd  of 
at  least  forty  came  flocking  about  me  from  the  next  field,  howling  and 
making  odious  faces  ; but  I ran  to  the  body  of  a tree,  and  leaning  my 
back  against  it  kept  them  off  by  waving  my  hanger.  Several  of  this 
cursed  brood  getting  hold  of  the  branches  behind  leapt  up  in  the  tree, 
from  whence  they  began  to  discharge  their  excrements  on  my  head. 
However,  I escaped  pretty  well  by  sticking  close  to  the  stem  of  the 
tree,  but  was  almost  stifled  with  the  filth  which  fell  about  me  on  every 
side. 

In  the  midst  of  this  distress  I observed  them  all  to  run  away  on  a 
sudden  as  fast  as  they  could,  at  which  I ventured  to  leave  the  tree  and 
pursue  the  road,  wondering  what  it  was  that  could  put  them  into  this 
fright.  But  looking  on  my  left  hand  I saw  a horse  walking  softly  in  the 
field,  which  my  persecutors  having  sooner  discovered  was  the  cause  of 
their  flight.  The  horse  started  a little  when  he  came  near  me,  but  soon 
recovering  himself  looked  full  in  my  face  with  manifest  tokens  of  won- 
der. He  viewed  my  hands  and  feet,  walking  round  me  several  times. 
I would  have  pursued  my  journey,  but  he  placed  himself  directly  in  the 
way,  yet  looking  with  a very  mild  aspect,  never  offering  the  least  vio- 
lence. We  stood  gazing  at  each  other  for  some  time  ; at  last  I took  the 
boldness  to  reach  my  hand  towards  his  neck  with  a design  to  stroke  it, 
using  the  common  style  and  whistle  of  jockeys  when  they  are  going  to 
handle  a strange  horse.  But  this  animal,  seeming  to  receive  my  civili- 

9-2 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


‘3*  0 

ties  with  disdain,  shook  his  head,  and  bent  his  brows,  softly  raising  up 
his  right  fore-foot  to  remove  my  hand.  Then  he  neighed  three  or  foui 
times,  but  in  so  different  a cadence  that  I almost  began  to  think  he  was 
speaking  to  himself  in  some  language  of  his  own. 

While  he  and  I were  thus  employed,  another  horse  came  up ; who 
applying  himself  to  the  first  in  a very  formal  manner,  they  gently  struck 
each  other’s  right  hoof  before,  neighing  several  times  by  turns,  and 
varying  the  sound,  which  seemed  to  be  almost  articulate.  They  went 
some  paces  off,  as  if  it  were  to  confer  together,  walking  side  by  side, 
backward  and  forward,  like  persons  deliberating  upon  some  affair  of 
weight,  but  often  turning  their  eyes  towards  me,  as  it  were  to  watch  that 
I might  not  escape.  I was  amazed  to  see  such  actions  and  behaviours 
in  brute  beasts,  and  concluded  with  myself^that  if  the  inhabitants  of 
this  country  were  endued  with  a proportionate  degree  of  reason,  they 
must  needs  be  the  wisest  people  upon  earth.  This  thought  gave  me  so 
much  comfort,  that  I resolved  to  go  forward  until  I could  discover  some 
house  or  village,  or  meet  with  any  of  the  natives,  leaving  the  two  horses 
to  discourse  together  as  they  pleased.  But  the  first,  who  was  a dapple- 
grey,  observing  me  to  steal  off,  neighed  after  me  in  so  expressive  a 
tone,  that  I fancied  myself  to  understand  what  he  meant ; whereupon 
I turned  back,  and  came  near  him,  to  expect  his  farther  commands  ; 
but  concealing  my  fear  as  much  as  I could,  for  I began  to  be  in  some 
pain,  how  this  adventure  might  terminate;  and  the  reader  will  easily 
believe  I did  not  much  like  my  present  situation. 

The  two  horses  came  up  close  to  me,  looking  with  great  earnestness 
upon  my  face  and  hands.  The  grey  steed  rubbed  my  hat  all  round 
with  his  right  fore-hoof,  and  discomposed  it  so  much,  that  I was  forced 
to  adjust  it  better,  by  taking  it  off,  and  settling  it  again  ; whereat  both 
he  and  his  companion  (who  was  a brown  bay)  appeared  to  be  much 
surprised,  the  latter  felt  the  lappet  of  my  coat,  and  finding  it  to  hang 
loose  about  me,  they  both  looked  with  new  signs  of  wonder.  He  stroked 
my  right-hand,  seeming  to  admire  the  softness  and  colour ; but  he 
squeezed  it  so  hard  between  his  hoof  and  his  pastern,  that  I was  forced 
to  roar;  after  which  they  both  touched  me  with  all  possible  tenderness. 
They  were  under  great  perp  exity  about  my  shoes  and  stockings,  which 
they  felt  very  often,  neighing  to  each  other,  and  using  various  gestures, 
not  unlike  those  of  a philosopher,  when  he  would  attempt  to  soxve  some 
new  and  difficult  phenomenon. 

Upon  the  whole,  the  behaviour  of  these  animals  was  so  orderly  and 
rational,  so  acute  and  judicious,  that  I at  last  concluded,  they  must 
needs  be  magicians,  who  had  thus  metamorphosed  themselves  upon 
some  design,  and  seeing  a stranger  in  the  way,  were  resolved  to  divert 
themselves  with  him  ; or  perhaps  were  really  amazed  at  the  sight  of  a 
man  so  very  different  in  habit,  feature  and  complexion  from  those  who 
might  probably  live  in  so  remote  a climate.  Upon  the  strength  of  this 
reasoning,  I ventured  to  address  them  in  the  following  manner : 
Gentlemen,  if  you  be  conjurors,  as  I have  good  cause  to  believe,  you 
can  understand  any  language  ; therefore  I make  bold  to  let  your  wor- 
ships know,  that  I am  a poor  distressed  Englishman,  driven  by  his 
misfortunes  upon  your  coast,  and  I entreat  one  of  you,  to  let  me  ride 
upon  his  back,  as  if  he  were  a real  horse,  to  s^ne  house  or  village. 


A VOYAGE  TO  THE  HO UYHNHNMS* 


«33 


t 

where  I can  be  relieved.  In  return  of  which  favour,  I will  make  you  a 
present  of  this  knife  and  bracelet  (taking  them  out  of  my  pocket).  The 
two  creatures  stood  silent  while  I spoke,  seeming  to  listen  with  great 
attention  ; and  when  I had  ended,  they  neighed  frequently  towards 
each  other,  as  if  they  were  engaged  in  serious  conversation.  I plainly 
observed,  that  their  language  expressed  the  passions  very  well,  and  their 
words  might  with  little  pains  be  resolved  into  an  alphabet  more  easily 
than  the  Chinese. 

I could  frequently  distinguish  the  word  Yahoo,  which  was  repeated 
by  each  of  them  several  times  ; and  although  it  was  impossible  for  me 
to  conjecture  what  it  meant ; yet  while  the  two  horses  were  busy  in 
conversation,  I endeavoured  to  practice  this  word  upon  my  tongue ; 
and  as  soon  as  they  were  silent,  I boldly  pronounced  Yahoo  in  a loud 
voice,  imitating,  at  the  same  time,  as  near  as  I could,  the  neighing  of  a 
horse ; at  which  they  were  both  visibly  surprised,  and  the  grey  repeated 
the  same  word  twice,  as  if  he  meant  to  teach  me  the  right  accent, 
wherein  I spoke  after  him  as  well  as  I could,  and  found  myself  perceiv- 
ably  to  improve  every  time,  though  very  far  from  any  degree  of  perfec- 
tion. Then  the  bay  tried  me  with  a second  word,  much  harder  to  be 
pronounced  ; but  reducing  it  to  the  English  orthography,  may  be  spelt 
thus,  Houvhnhnms.  I did  not  succeed  in  this  so  well  as  in  the  former, 
but  after  two  or  three  farther  trials,  I had  better  fortune ; and  they  both 
appeared  amazed  at  my  capacity. 

After  some  farther  discourse,  which  I then  conjectured  might  relate 
to  me,  the  twa/riends  took  their  leaves,  with  the  same  compliment  of 
striking  each  other's  hoof ; and  the  grey  made  me  signs  that  I should 
walk  before  them,  wherein  I thought  it  prudent  to  comply,  till  I could 
find  a better  director.  When  I offered  to  slacken  my  pace,  he  would 
cry  Hhuun,  hhuun  ; I guessed  his  meaning,  and  gave  him  to  under- 
stand, as  well  as  I could,  that  I was  weary,  and  not  able  to  walk  faster; 
upon  which,  he  would  stand  awhile  to  let  me  rest. 

CHAPTER  II. 

The  author  conducted  by  a Houyhnhnm  to  his  house.  The  house  described. 
The  author’s  reception.  The  food  of  the  Houyhnhnms.  The  author  in 
distress  for  want  of  meat,  is  at  last  relieved.  His  manner  of  feeding  in  this 
country. 

HAVING  travelled  about  three  miles,  we  came  to  a long  kind  of 
building,  made  of  timber,  stuck  in  the  ground,  and  wattled 
across  ; the  roof  was  low,  and  covered  with  straw.  I now  began  to  be 
a little  comforted,  and  took  out  some  toys,  which  travellers  usually 
carry  for  presents  to  the  savage  Indians  of  America  and  other  parts, 
in  hopes  the  people  of  the  house  would  be  thereby  encouraged  to 
receive  me  kindly.  The  horse  made  me  a sign  to  go  in  first ; it  was  a 
large  room  with  a smooth  clay  floor,  and  a rack  and  manger  extending 
the  whole  length  on  one  side.  There  were  three  nags,  and  two  mares, 
not  eating,  but  some  of  them  sitting  down  upon  their  hams,  which  I 
very  much  wondered  at ; but  wondered  more  to  see  the  rest  employed 
in  domestic  business.  They  seemed  but  ordinary  cattle,  however  this 
confirmed  my  first  opinion,  that  a people  who  could  so  far  civilize  brute 


134 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


animals,  must  needs  excel  in  wisdom  all  the  nations  of  the  world.  The 
grey  came  in  just  after,  and  therebv  prevented  any  ill  treatment,  which 
the  others  might  have  given  me.  He  neighed  to  them  several  times  in 
a style  of  authority,  and  received  answers. 

Beyond  this  room  there  were  three  others,  reaching  the  length  of  the 
house,  to  which  you  passed  through  three  doors  opposite  to  each  other, 
in  the  manner  of  a vista ; we  went  through  the  second  room  towards 
the  third,  here  the  grey  walked  in  first,  beckoning  me  to  attend  : I 
waited  in  the  second  room,  and  got  ready  my  presents,  for  the  master 
and  mistress  of  the  house:  they  were  two  knives,  three  bracelets  of 
false  pearl,  a small  looking-glass  and  a bead  necklace.  The  horse 
neighed  three  or  four  times,  and  I waited  to  hear  some  answers  in  a 
human  voice,  but  I observed  no  other  returns,  than  in  the  same  dialect, 
only  one  or  two  a little  shriller,  than  his.  I began  to  think  that  this 
house  must  belong  to  some  person  of  great  note  among  them,  because 
there  appeared  so  much  ceremony  before  I could  gain  admittance. 
But,  that  a man  of  quality  should  be  served  all  by  horses,  was  beyond 
my  comprehension.  I feared  my  brain  was  disturbed  by  my  sufferings 
and  misfortunes : I roused  myself,  and  looked  about  me  in  the  room 
where  I was  left  alone ; this  was  furnished  like  the  first,  only  after  a 
more  elegant  manner.  I rubbed  my  eyes  often,  but  the  same  objects 
still  occurred.  I pinched  my  arms  and  sides,  to  awake  myself,  hoping 
I might  be  in  a dream.  I then  absolutely  concluded,  that  all  these 
appearances  could  be  nothing  else  but  necromancy  and  magic.  But  I 
had  no  time  to  pursue  these  reflections ; for  the  grey  hoKe  came  to  the 
door,  and  made  me  a sign  to  follow  him  into  the  third  room,  where  I 
saw  a very  comely  mare,  together  with  a colt  and  foal,  sitting  upon 
their  haunches,  upon  mats  of  straw,  not  unartfully  made,  and  perfectly 
neat  and  clean. 

The  mare,  soon  after  my  entrance,  rose  from  her  mat,  and  coming 
up  close,  after  having  nicely  observed  my  hands  and  face,  gave  me  a 
most  contemptuous  look;  then  turning  to  the  horse,  I heard  the  word 
Yahoo  often  repeated  betwixt  them ; the  meaning  of  which  word  I could 
not  then  comprehend,  although  it  were  the  first  I had  learned  to  pro- 
nounce ; but  I was  soon  better  informed,  to  my  everlasting  mortifica- 
tion : for  the  horse,  beckoning  to  me  with  his  head,  and  repeating  the 
word  Hhuun,  hhuun,  as  he  did  upon  the  road,  which  I understood  was 
to  attend  him,  led  me  out  into  a kind  of  court,  where  was  another 
building  at  some  distance  from  the  house.  Here  we  entered,  and  I saw 
three  of  these  detestable  creatures,  whom  I first  met  after  my  landing, 
feeding  upon  roots,  and  the  flesh  of  some  animals,  which  I afterwards 
found  to  be  that  of  asses  and  dogs,  and  now  and  then  a cow  dead  by 
accident  or  disease.  They  were  all  tied  by  the  neck  with  strong  wvths, 
fastened  to  a beam  ; they  held  their  food  between  the  claws  of  their 
tore-feet,  and  tore  it  with  their  teeth. 

The  master  horse  ordered  a sorrel  nag,  one  of  his  servants,  to  untie 
the  largest  of  these  animals,  and  take  him  into  the  yard.  The  beast 
and  I were  brought  close  together  ; and  our  countenances  diligently 
compared,  both  by  master  and  servant,  who  thereupon  repeated  several 
times  the  word  Yahoo.  My  horror  and  astonishment  ar*  not  to  be 
described,  when  I observed  in  this  abominable  animal,  a perfect  human 


A VOYAGE  TO  THE  HOUYHNHNMS. 


*33 


figure ; t!ie  face  of  it  indeed  was  flat  and  broad,  the  nose  depressed, 
the  lips  large,  and  the  mouth  wide.  But  these  differences  are  common 
to  all  savage  nations,  where  the  lineaments  of  the  countenance  are 
distorted  by  the  natives  suffering  their  infants  to  lie  grovelling  on  the 
earth,  or  by  carrying  them  on  their  backs,  nuzzling  with  their  face 
against  the  mother’s  shoulders.  The  fore-feet  of  the  Yahoo  differed 
from  my  hands  in  nothing  else,  but  the  length  of  the  nails,  the  coarse- 
ness and  brownness  of  the  palms,  and  the  hairiness  on  the  backs. 
There  was  the  same  resemblance  between  our  feet,  with  the  same  differ- 
ences, which  I knew  very  well,  though  the  horses  did  not,  because  of 
my  shoes  and  stockings ; the  same  in  every  part  of  our  bodies,  except 
as  to  hairiness  and  colour,  which  I have  already  described. 

The  great  difficulty  that  seemed  to  stick  with  the  two  horses,  was,  to 
see  the  rest  of  my  body  so  very  different  from  that  of  a Yahoo,  for 
which  I was  obliged  to  my  clothes,  whereof  they  had  no  conception  : 
the  sorrel  nag  offered  me  a root,  which  he  held  (after  their  manner,  as 
we  shall  describe  in  its  proper  place)  between  his  hoof  and  pastern  ; I 
took  it  in  my  hand,  and  having  smelt  it,  returned  it  to  him  again  as 
civilly  as  I could.  He  brought  out  of  the  Yahoo’s  kennel  a piece  of 
ass’s  flesh,  but  it  smelt  so  offensively  that  I turned  from  it  with  loath- 
ing ; he  then  threw  it  to  the  Yahoo,  by  whom  it  was  greedily  devoured. 
He  afterwards  showed  me  a whisp  of  hay,  and  a fetlock  full  of  oats  ; 
but  I shook  my  head,  to  signify,  that  neither  of  these  were  food  for  me. 
And,  indeed,  I now  apprehended,  that  I must  absolutely  starve,  if  I did 
not  get  to  some  of  my  own  species : for  as  to  those  filthy  Yahoos, 
although  there  were  few  greater  lovers  of  mankind,  at  that  time,  than 
myself ; yet  I confess  I never  saw  any  sensitive  being  so  detestable  on 
all  accounts  ; and  the  more  I came  near  them,  the  more  hateful  they 
grew,  while  I stayed  in  that  country.  This  the  master  horse  observed 
by  my  behaviour,  and  therefore  sent  the  Yahoo  back  to  his  kennel.  He 
then  put  his  fore-hoof  to  his  mouth,  at  which  I was  much  surprised, 
although  he  did  it  with  ease,  and  with  a motion  that  appeared  perfectly 
natural,  and  made  other  signs  to  know  what  I vfould  eat ; but  I could 
not  return  him  such  an  answer  as  he  was  able  to  apprehend ; and  if  he 
had  understood  me,  I did  not  see  how  it  was  possible  to  contrive  any 
way  for  finding  myself  nourishment.  While  we  were  thus  engaged,  I 
observed  a cow  passing  by,  whereupon  I pointed  to  her,  and  expressed 
a desire  to  let  me  go  and  milk  her.  This  had  its  effect ; for  he  led  me 
back  into  the  house,  and  ordered  a mare-servant  to  open  a room,  where 
a good  store  of  milk  lay  in  earthen  and  wooden  vessels,  after  a very 
orderly  and  cleanly  manner.  She  gave  me  a large  bowl  full,  of  which 
I drank  very  heartily,  and  found  myself  well  refreshed. 

About  noon  I saw  coming  towards  the  house  a kind  of  vehicle  drawn 
like  a sledge  by  four  Yahoos.  There  was  in  it  an  old  steed,  who  seemed 
to  be  of  quality,  he  alighted  with  his  hind-feet  forward,  having  by  acci- 
dent got  a hurt  in  his  left  fore-foot.  He  came  to  dine  with  our  horse, 
who  received  him  with  great  civility.  They  dined  in  the  best  room,  and 
had  oats  boiled  in  milk  for  the  second  course,  which  the  old  horse  eat  ^ 
warm,  but  the  rest  cold.  Their  mangers  were  placed  circular  in  the 
middle  of  the  room,  and  divided  into  several  partitions,  round  which 
they  sat  on  their  haunches  upon  bosses  of  straw.  In  the  middle  was  a 


t 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WOR ICS. 


136 

large  rack  with  angles  answering  to  every  partition  of  the  manger.  So 
that  each  horse  and  mare  eat  their  own  hay,  and  their  own  mash  of 
oats  and  milk,  with  much  decency  and  regularity.  The  behaviour  of 
the  young  colt  and  foal  appeared  very  modest,  and  that  of  the  master 
and  mistress  extremely  cheerful  and  complaisant  to  their  guest.  The 
grey  ordered  me  to  stand  by  him,  and  much  discourse  passed  between 
him  and  his  friend  concerning  me,  as  I found  by  the  stranger’s  often, 
looking  on  me,  and  the  frequent  repetition  of  the  word  Yahoo. 

I happened  to  wear  my  gloves,  which  the  master-grey  observing, 
seemed  perplexed,  discovering  signs  of  wonder  what  1 had  done  to  my 
fore-feet ; he  put  his  hoof  three  or  four  times  to  them,  as  if  he  would 
signify,  that  I should  reduce  them  to  their  former  shape,  which  F pre- 
sently did,  pulling  off  both  my  gloves,  and  putting  them  into  my 
pocket.  This  occasioned  farther  talk,  and  I saw  the  company  was 
pleased  with  my  behaviour,  whereof  I soon  found  the  good  effects.  I 
was  ordered  to  speak  the  few  words  I understood,  and  while  they  were 
at  dinner,  the  master  taught  me  the  names  for  oats,  milk,  fire,  w^ater, 
and  some  others  ; which  1 could  readily  pronounce  after  him,  having 
from  my  youth  a great  facility  in  learning  languages. 

When  dinner  was  done  the  master  horse  took  me  aside,  and  by 
signs  and  wonders  made  me  understand  the  concern  that  he  was  in 
that  I had  nothing  to  eat.  Oats,  in  their  tongue,  are  called  Hlunnh. 
This  word  I pronounced  two  or  three  times,  for,  although  I had  refused 
them  at  first,  yet  upon  second  thoughts  I considered  that  I could  con- 
trive to  make  of  them  a kind  of  bread,  which  might  be  sufficient,  with 
milk,  to  keep  me  alive  till  I could  make  my  escape  to  some  other  coun- 
try, and  to  creatures  of  my  own  species.  The  horse  immediately  ordered 
a white  mare  servant  of  his  family  to  bring  me  a good  quantity  of  oats 
in  a sort  of  wooden  tray.  These  I heated  before  the  fire  as  well  as  I 
could,  and  rubbed  them  till  the  husks  came  off,  which  I made  a shift  to 
winnow  from  the  grain  ; I ground  and  beat  them  between  two  stones, 
then  took  water,  and  made  them  into  a paste  or  cake,  which  I toasted 
at  the  fire,  and  eat  warm  with  milk.  It  was  at  first  a very  insipid  diet, 
though  common  enough  in  many  parts  of  Europe,  but  grew  tolerable 
by  time ; and,  having  been  often  reduced  to  hard  fare  in  my  life,  this  l; 
was  not  the  first  experiment  I had  made  how  easily  nature  is  satisfied. 
And  I cannot  but  observe  that  I never  had  one  hour’s  sickness  while  I 
stayed  in  this  island.  ’Tis  true  I sometimes  made  a shift  to  catch  a \ 
rabbit  or  bird  by  springs  made  of  Yahoo’s  hairs,  and  I often  gathered 
wholesome  herbs,  which  I boiled  or  eat  as  salads  with  my  bread,  and 
now  and  then  for  a rarity  I made  a little  butter,  and  drank  the  whey. 

1 was  at  first  at  a great  loss  for  salt ; but  custom  soon  reconciled  the 
want  of  it,  and  I am  confident  that  the  frequent  use  of  salt  among  us  is 
an  effect  of  luxury,  and  was  first  introduced  only  as  a provocative  to 
drink,  except  where  it  is  necessary  for  preserving  of  flesh  in  long  voyages, 
or  in  places  remote  from  great  markets.  For  we  observe  no  animal  to 
be  fond  of  it  but  man  ; and  as  to  myself,  when  I left  this  country  it 
was  a great  while  beiore  I could  endure  the  taste  of  it  in  anything  that 
I eat. 

This  is  enough  to  say  upon  the  subject  of  my  diet,  wherewith  other 
travellers  fill  their  books,  as  if  the  readers  were  personally  concerned 


A VOYAGE  TO  THE  HOUVHNHNMS. 


137 


whether  we  fare  well  or  ill.  However,  it  was  necessary  to  mention  this 
matter  lest  the  world  should  think  it  impossible  that  I could  find  sus- 
tenance for  three  years  in  such  a country,  and  among  such  inhabitants. 
When  tr  grew  towards  evening  the  master  horse  ordered  a place  for 
me  to  lodge  in  ; it  was  but  six  yards  from  the  house,  and  separated 
from  the  stable  of  the  Yahoos.  Here  I got  some  straw,  and^covering 
myself  with  my  own  clothes  slept  very  sound.  But  I was  in  a short 
time  better  accommodated,  as  the  reader  shall  know  hereaiter  when  I 
come  to  treat  more  particularly  about  my  way  of  living. 

CHAPTER  III. 

The  author  studious  to  learn  the  language,  the  Houvhnhnm,  his  master,  assists 
in  teaching  him.  The  language  described.  Several  Rouvhnhnms  of  quality 
come  out  of  curiosity  to  see  the  author.  He  gives  his  master  a short  account 
of  his  voyage. 

MY  principal  endeavour  was  to  learn  the  language,  which  my  master 
(for  so  I shall  henceforth  call  him)  and  his  children,  and  every 
servant  of  his  house  were  desirous  to  teach  me.  For  they  looked  upon 
it  as  a prodigy  that  a brute  animal  should  discover  such  marks  of  a ra- 
tional creature.  I pointed  to  everything,  and  inquired  the  name  of  it, 
which  I wrote  down  in  my  journal-book  when  I was  alone,  and  corrected 
my  bad  accent  by  desiring  those  of  the  family  to  pronounce  it  often. 
In  this  employment  a sorrel  nag,  one  of  the  under  servants,  was  very 
ready  to  assist  me. 

In  speaking  they  pronounce  through  the  nose  and  throat,  and  their 
language  approaches  nearest  to  the  High  Dutch  or  German  of  any  I 
know  in  Europe  ; but  is  much  more  graceful  and  significant.  The 
Emperor  Charles  V.,  made  almost  the  same  observation  when  he  said 
that  if  he  were  to  speak  to  his  horse  it  should  be  in  High  Dutch. 

The  curiosity  and  impatience  of  my  master  were  so  great  that  he 
spent  many  hours  of  his  leisure  to  instruct  me.  He  was  convinced  (as 
he  afterwards  told  me)  that  I must  be  a Yahoo,  but  my  teachableness, 
civility,  and  cleanliness  astonished  him ; which  were  qualities  altogether 
so  opposite  to  those  txrimals.  He  was  most  perplexed  about  my  clothes, 
reasoning  sometimes  with  himself  whether  they  were  a part  of  my  body, 
for  I never  pulled  them  off  till  the  family  were  asleep,  and  got  them  on 
before  they  waked  in  the  morning.  My  master  was  eager  to  learn  from 
whence  I came,  how  I acquired  those  appearances  of  reason,  which  I 
discovered  in  all  my  actions,  and  to  know  my  story  from  my  own  mouth, 
which  he  hoped  he  should  soon  do  by  the  great  proficiency  I made  in 
learning  arid  pronouncing  their  words  and  sentences.  To  help  my  me- 
mory I formed  all  I learned  into  the  English  alphabet,  and  wrote  the 
words  down  with  the  translations.  This  last,  after  some  time,  I ventured 
to  do  in  my  master’s  presence.  Jt  cost  me  much  trouble  to  explain  to 
him  what  I was  doing ; ior  the  inhabitants  have  not  the  least  idea  of 
books  and  literature. 

In  about  ten  weeks  time  I was  able  to  understand  most  of  his  ques- 
tions, and  in  three  months  could  give  him  some  tolerable  answers/  He 
was  extremely  curious  to  know  trom  what  part  of  the  country  I came, 
and  how  1 was  taught  to  imitate  a rational  creature,  because  the  Yahoos 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


*3* 

(whom  he  saw  T exactly  resembled  in  my  head,  hands,  and  face  that 
were  only  visible)  with  some  appearance  of  cunning,  and  the  strongest 
disposition  to  mischief,  were  observed  to  be  the  most  unteachable  ot  all 
brutes.  I answered  that  I came  over  the  sea  from  a far  place,  with 
many  others  of  my  own  kind,  in  a great  hollow  vessel  made  of  the 
bodies  octrees.  That  my  companions  forced  me  to  land  on  this  coast, 
and  theirleft  me  to  shift  for  myself.  It  was  with  some  difficulty  and  by 
the  help  of  many  signs  that  I brought  him  to  understand  me.  He  re- 
plied that  I must  needs  be  mistaken,  or  that  I said  the  thing  which  was 
not.  (For  they  have  no  word  in  their  language  to  express  lying  or  false- 
hood.) He  knew  it  was  impossible  that  there  could  be  a country  beyond 
the  sea,  or  that  a parcel  of  brutes  could  move  a wooden  vessel  whither 
they  pleased  upon  water.  He  was  sure  no  Houyhnhnm  alive  could 
make  such  a vessel,  nor  would  trust  Yahoos  to  manage  it. 

The  word  Houynhnhm  in  their  tongue  signifies  a horse,  and,  in  its 
etymology,  the  perfection  of  nature.  I told  my  master  that  I was  at  a 
loss  for  expression,  but  would  improve  as  fast  as  I could ; and  hoped 
in  a short  time, I should  be  able  to  tell  him  wonders.  He  was  pleased 
to  direct  his  own  mare,  his  colt  and  foal,,  and  the  servants  of  the  family, 
to  take  all  opportunities  of  instructing  me,  and  every  day  for  two  or 
three  hours  he  was  at  the  same  pains  himself.  Several  horses  and 
mares  of  quality  in  the  neighbourhood  came  often  to  our  house  upon 
the  report  spread  of  a wonderful  Yahoo  that  could  speak  like  a Houy- 
hnhnm, and  seemed  in  his  words  and  actions  to  discover  some  glimmer- 
ings of  reason.  These  delighted  to  converse  with  me  ; they  put  many 
questions,  and  received  such  answers,  as  I was  able  to  return.  By  all  , 
these  advantages  I made  so  great  a progress  that  in  five  months  from 
my  arrival  I understood  whatever  was  spoke,  and  could  express  myself 
tolerably  well. 

The  Houyhnhnms,  who  came  to  visit  my  master  out  of  a design  of , 
seeing  and  talking  with  me,  could  hardly  believe  me  to  be  a right  Yahoo, 
because  my  body  had  a different  covering  from  others  of  my  kind. 
They  were  astonished  to  observe  me  without  the  usual  hair  or  skin,  ex- 
cept on  my  head,  face,  and  hands  ; but  I discovered  that  secret  to  my 
master  upon  an  accident,  which  happened  about  a fortnight  before. 

I have  already  told  the  reader  that,  every  night  when  the  family  were 
gone  to  bed,  it  was  my  custom  to  strip  and  cover  myself  with  my  clothes. 

It  happened  one  morning,  early,  that  my  master  sent  for  me  by  the 
sorrel  nag,  who  was  his  valet  ; when  he  came  I was  fast  asleep,  my 
clothes  fallen  off  on  one  side,  and  my  shirt  above  my  waist.  I awaked 
at  the  noise  he  made,  and  observed  him  to  deliver  his  message  in  some ; 
disorder  ; after  which  he  went  to  my  master,  and  in  a great  fright  gave 
him  a very  confused  account. ot  what  he  had  seen.  This  I presently 
discovered,  for,  going  as  soon  as  I was  dressed^o  pay  my  attendance 
upon  his  honour,  he  asked  me  the  meaning  of  what  his  servant  had  re-  li 
ported,  that  I was  not  the  same  thing  when  I slept  as  I appeared  to  be 
at  other  times  ; that  his  valet  assured  him  some  part  of  me  was  white, 
some  yellow,  at  least  not  so  white,  and  some  brown. 

I had  hitherto  concealed  the  secret  ot  my  dress  in  order  to  distinguish 
myself  as  much  as  I could  from  the  cursed  race  of  Yahoos  ; but  now  ( I 
found  it  in  vain  to  do  so  any  longer.  Besides,  I consiaered  that  my  j| 


A VOYAGE  TO  THE  HOUYHNHNMS. 


*39 


clothes  and  shoes  would  soon  wear  out,  which  already  were  in  a declin- 
ing condition,  and  must  be  supplied  by  some  contrivance  from  the  hides 
ot  Yahoos  or  other  brutes,  whereby  the  whole  secret  would  be  known. 
I therefore  told  my  master  that  in  the  country  from  whence  I came 
those  of  my  kind  always  covered  their  bodies  with  the  hairs  of  certain 
animals  prepared  by  art,  as  well  for  decency  as  to  avoid  the  inclemencies 
of  air  both  hot  and  cold,  of  which,  as  to  my  own  person,  I would  give 
him  immediate  conviction  if  he  pleased  to  command  me  ; only  desiring 
his  excuse  if  I did  not  expose  those  parts  that  Nature  taught  us  to  con- 
ceal. He  said  my  discourse  was  all  very  strange,  but  especially  the 
last  part,  for  he  could  not  understand  why  Nature  should  teach  us  to 
conceal  what  Nature  had  given.  That  neither  himself  nor  family  were 
ashamed  of  any  parts  of  their  bodies  ; but  however  I might  do  as  I 
pleased,  whereupon  I first  unbuttoned  my  coat  and  pulled  it  off.  I did 
the  same  with  my  waistcoat ; I drew  off  my  shoes,  stockings,  and 
breeches.  I let  my  shirt  down  to  my  waist,  and  drew  up  the  bottom, 
fastening  it  like  a girdle  about  my  middle  to  hide  my  nakedness. 

My  master  observed  the  whole  performance  with  great  signs  of  curi- 
osity and  admiration.  He  took  up  all  my  clothes  in  his  pastern,  one 
piece  after  another,  and  examined  them  diligently  ; he  then  stroked  my 
body  very  gently,  and  looked  round  me  several  times,  after  which  he 
said  it  was  plain  I must  be  a perfect  Yahoo  ; but  that  I differed  very 
much  from  the  rest  of  my  species  in  the  softness  and  whiteness  and 
smoothness  of  my  skin,  my  want  of  hair  in  several  parts  of  my  body, 
the  shape  and  shortness  of  my  daws  behind  and  before,  and  my  affec- 
tation of  walking  continually  on  my  two  hinder  feet.  He  desired  to  see 
no  more,  and  gave  me  leave  to  put  on  my  clothes  again,  for  I was  shud- 
dering with  cold. 

I expressed  my  uneasiness  at  his  giving  me  so  often  the  appellation 
of  Yahoo,  an  odious  animal,  for  which  I had  so  utter  an  hatred  and 
contempt.  I begged  he  would  forbear  applying  that  word  to  me,  and 
take  the  same  order  in  his  family,  and  among  his  friends  whom  he 
suffered  to  see  me.  I requested  likewise  that  the  secret  of  having  a 
false  covering  to  my  body  might  be  known  to  none  but  himself,  at  least 
as  long  as  my  present  clothing  should  last ; for,  as  to  what  the  sorrel 
nag  his  valet  had  observed,  his  honour  might  command  him  to  con- 
ceal it. 

All  this  my  master  very  graciously  consented  to,  and  thus  the  secret 
was  kept  till  my  clothes  began  to  wear  out,  which  I was  forced  to  supply 
by  several  contrivances  that  shall  hereafter  be  mentioned.  In  the 
mean  time  he  desired  I would  go  on  with  my  utmost  diligence  to  learn 
their  language,  because  he  was  more  astonished  at  my  capacity  for 
speech  and  reason  than  at  the  figure  of  my  body,  whether  it  were  co- 
vered or  no  ; adding  that  he  waited  with  some  impatience  to  hear  the 
wonders  which  I promised  to  tell  him. 

From  thenceforward  he  doubled  the  pains  he  had  been  at  to  instruct 
me;  he  brought  me  into  all  company,  and  made  them  treat  me  with 
civility,  because,  as  he  told  them  privately,  this  would  put  me  into  good 
humour,  and  make  me  more  diverting. 

Every  day  when  I waited  on  him,  beside  the  trouble  he  was  at  in 
teaching,  he  would  ask  me  several  questions  concerning  myself,  which 


140 


LEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


I answered  as  well  as  I could  ; and  by  these  means  he  had  already  rfcr 
ceived  some  general  ideas,  though  very  imperfect.  It  would  be  tedious 
to  relate  the  several  steps  by  which  I advanced  to  a more  regular  con- 
versation ; but  the  first  account  I gave  of  myself  in  any  order  and  length 
was  to  this  purpose  : 

That  I came  from  a very  far  country,  as  I had  already  attempted  to  tell 
him,  with  about  fifty  more  of  my  own  species;  that  we  travelled  upon  the 
seas  in  a great  hollow  vessel  made  of  wood,  and  larger  than  his  honour’s 
house.  I described  the  ship  to  him  in  the  best  terms  I could,  and  ex- 
plained, by  the  help  of  my  handkerchief  displayed,  how  it  was  driven 
forward  by  the  wind.  That  upon  a quarrel  among  us  I was  set  on  shore 
on  this  coast,  where  I walked  forward  without  knowing  whither,  till  he 
delivered  me  from  the  persecution  of  those  execrable  Yahoos.  He 
asked  me  who  made  the  ship,  and  how  it  was  possible  that  the 
Houyhnhnms  of  my  country  would  leave  it  to  the  management  of 
brutes?  My  answer  was  that  I durst  proceed  no  farther  in  my  relation, 
unless  he  would  give  me  his  word  and  honour  that  he  would  not  be 
offended,  and  then  I would  tell  him  the  wonders  I had  so  often  pro- 
mised. He  agreed  ; and  I went  on  by  assuring  him  that  the  ship  was 
made  by  creatures  like  myself,  who,  in  all  the  countries  I had  travelled 
as  well  as  in  my  own,  were  the  only  governing,  rational  animals  ; and 
that  upon  my  arrival  hither  I was  as  much  astonished  to  see  the  Houy- 
hnhnms act  like  rational  beings,  as  he  or  his  friends  could  be  in  finding 
some  marks  of  reason  in  a creature  he  was  pleased  to  call  a Yahoo,  to 
which  I owned  my  resemblance  in  every  part,  but  could  not  account  for 
their  degenerate  and  brutal  nature.  I said  farther  that,  if  good  fortune 
ever  restored  me  to  my  native  country  to  relate  my  travels  hither,  as  I 
resolved  to  do,  everybody  would  believe  that  I said  the  thing  which  was 
not ; that  I invented  the  story  out  of  my  own  head  ; and  with  all  pos-  ; 
sible  respect  to  himself,  his  family,  and  friends,  and  under  his  promise  , 
of  not  being  otfended,  our  countrymen  would  hardly  think  it  probable 
that  a Houyhnhnm  should  be  the  presiding  creature  of  a nation,  and  a 
Yahoo  the  brute. 

CHAPTER  IV. 

The  Houyhnhnms*  notion  of  truth  and  falsehood.  The  author’s  discourse  dis- 
approved by  his  master.  The  author  gives  a more  particular  account  of 
himself,  and  the  accidents  of  his  voyage. 

MY  master  heard  me  with  great  appearances  of  uneasiness  in  his 
countenance,  because  doubting  or  not  believing  are  so  little 
known  in  this  country  that  the  inhabitants  cannot  tell  how  to  behave 
themselves  under  such  circumstances.  And  I remember  in  frequent  dis- 
courses with  my  master  concerning  the  nature  of  manhood  in  other 
parts  of  the  world,  having  occasion  to  talk  of  lying  and  false  representa- 
tion, it  was  with  much  difficulty  that  he  comprehended  what  I meant, 
although  he  had  otherwise  a most  acute  judgment.  For  he  argued 
thus  : that  the  use  ot  speech  was  to  make  us  understand  one  another, 
and  to  receive  information  of  facts  ; now  if  any  one  said  the  thing  which 
was  not,  those  ends  were  defeated  ; because  I cannot  properly  be  said 
to  understand  him,  and  I am  so  far  from  receiving  information  that  ne 


A VOYAGE  TO  THE  HO U YHN II N MS, 


141 


leaves  me  worse  than  in  ignorance,  for  I am  led  to  believe  a thing 
black  when  it  is  white,  and  short  when  it  is  long.  And  these  were  all 
the  notions  he  had  concerning  that  faculty  of  lying,  so  perfectly  well  un- 
derstood among  human  creatures. 

To  return  from  this  digression  ; when  I asserted  that  the  Yahoos 
werejhe  only  governing  animals  in  my  country— which  my  master  said 
was  altogether  past  his  conception — he  desired  to  know  whether  we  had 
Houyhnhnms  among  us,  and  what  was  their  employment.  I told  him 
we  had  great  numbers  ; that  in  summer  they  grazed  in  the  fields,  and 
in  winter  were  kept  in  houses  with  hay  and  oats,  when  Yahoo  servants 
were  employed  to  rub  their  skins  smooth,  comb  their  manes,  pick  their 
feet,  serve  them  with  food,  and  make  their  beds.  “ I understand  you 
well,”  said  my  master*  “ it  is  now  very  plain  from  all  you  have  spoken  that 
whatever  share  of  reason  the  Yahoos  pretended  to,  the  Houyhnhnms 
are  your  masters  ; I heartily  wish  our  Yahoos  would  be  so  tractable. 

I begged  his  honour  would  please  to  excuse  me  from  proceeding  any 
farther,  because  I was  very  certain  that  the  account  he  expected  from 
me  would  be  highly  displeasing.  But  he  insisted  in  commanding  me 
to  let  him  know  the  best  and  the  worst ; I told  him  he  should  be  obeyed. 

I pwned  that  the  Houyhnhnms  among  us,  whom  we  called  horses,  were 
the  most  generous  and  comely  animal  we  had,  that  they  excelled  in 
strength  and  swiftness  : and  when  they  belonged  to  persons  of  quality 
employed  in  travelling,  racing,  or  drawing  chariots  they  were  treated 
with  much  kindness  and  care  till  they  fell  into  diseases,  or  became  foun- 
dered in  the  feet ; and  then  they  were  sold,  and  used  to  all  kind  of 
drudgery  till  they  died  ; after  which  their  skins  were  stripped  and  sole 
for  what  they  were  worth,  and  their  bodies  left  to  be  devoured  by  dog- 
and  birds  of  prey.  But  the  common  race  of  horses  had  not  so  g 00c 
fortune,  being  kept  by  farmers  and  carriers  and  other  mean  people,  who 
put  them  to  greater  labour,  and  feed  them  worse.  I described,  as  well v 
as  I could,  our  way  of  riding,  the  shape  and  use  of  a bridle,  a saddle, ; 
spur,  and  a whip,  of  harness  and  wheels.  I added,  that  we  fastenet 
plates  of  a certain  hard  substance  called  iron  at  the  bottom  of  thei 
feet,  to  preserve  their  hoofs  from  being  broken  by  the  stony  ways  01 
which  we  often  travelled. 

My  master,  after  some  expressions  of  great  indignation,  wonderec 
how  we  dared  to  venture  upon  a Houyhnhnm’s  back,  for  he  was  si:.* 
that  the  meanest  servant  in  his  house  would  be  able  to  shake  off  th 
strongest  Yahoo,  or  by  lying  down,  and  rolling  on  his  back,  squeeze  th 
brute  to  death.  I answered  that  our  horses  were  trained  up  Irom  three 
or  four  years  old  to  the  several  uses  we  intended  them  for  ; tnat  if  an 
of  them  proved  intolerably  vicious  they  were  employed  for  carriages  : 
that  they  were  severely  beaten  while  they  were  young  for  any  mischievou 
tricks  ; that  the  males,  designed  for  common  use  of  riding  or  draugh. 
were  generally  castrated  about  two  years  after  their  birth  to  take  dow: 
their  spirits,  and  make  them  more  tame  and  gentle  ; that  they  wer. 
indeed  sensible  of  rewards  and  punishments ; but  his  honour  woul: 
please  to  consider  that  they  had  not  the  least  tincture  of  reason  any 
more  than  the  Yahoos  in  this  country. 

It  put  me  to  the  pains  of  many  circumlocutions  to  give  my  master  a 
right  idea  of  what  I spoke;  lor  their  language  doth  not  abound  in  variety 


F42 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


of  words,  because  their  wants  and  passions  are  fewer  than  among  us. 
But  it  is  impossible  to  repeat  his  noble  resentment  at  our  savage  treat- 
ment of  the  Houyhnhnm  race,  particularly  after  I had  explained  the 
manner  and  use  of  castrating  horses  among  us,  to  hinder  them  from 
propagating  their  kind,  and  to  render  them  more  servile.  He  said  if  it 
were  possible  there  could  be  any  country  where  Yahoos  alone  were  en- 
dued with  reason  they  certainly  must  be  the  governing  animal,  because 
reason  will  in  time  always  prevail  against  brutal  strength.  But  con- 
sidering the  frame  of  our  bodies,  and  especially  of  mine,  he  thought  no 
creature  of  equal  bulk  was  so  ill  contrived  for  employing  that  reason  in 
the  common  office  of  life  ; whereupon  he  desired  to  know  whether  those 
among  whom  I lived  resembled  me  or  the  Yahoos  of  his  country.  I 
assured  him  that  I was  as  well  shaped  aS  most  of  my  age  ; but  the 
younger  and  the  females  were  much  more  soft  and  tender,  and  the  skins 
of  the  latter  generally  as  white  as  milk.  He  said  I differed  indeed  from 
other  Yahoos,  being  much  more  cleanly,  and  not  altogether  so  de- 
formed, but  in  point  of  real  advantage  he  thought  I Offered  for  the 
worse.  That  my  nails  were  of  no  use  either  to  my  fore  or  hinder  feet. 
\s  to  my  fore-feet  he  could  not  properly  call  them  by  that  name,  for  he 
lever  observed  me  to  walk  upon  them  ; that  they  were  too  soft  to  bear 
che  ground  ; that  I generally  went  with  them  uncovered,  neither  was 
he  covering  I sometimes  wore  on  them  of  the  same  shape,  or  so  strong 
is  that  on  my  feet  behind.  That  I could  not  walk  with  any  security, 
‘or  if  either  of  my  hinder  feet  slipped  I must  inevitably  fall.  He  then 
began  to  find  fault  with  other  .parts  of  my  body,  the  flatness  of  my  face, 
che  prominence  of  my  nose,  mine  eyes  placed  directly  in  the  front,  so 
that  I could  not  look  on  either  side  without  turning  my  head.  That  I 
was  not  able  to  feed  myself  without  lifting  my  fore  feet  to  my  mouth  ; 
and  therefore  Nature  had  placed  those  joints  to  answer  that  necessity. 
He  knew  not  what  could  be  the  use  of  those  several  clefts  and  divisions 
in  my  feet  behind  ; that  these  were  too  soft  to  bear  the  hardness  and 
sharpness  of  stones  without  a covering  made  from  the  skin  of  some 
other  brute  ; that  my  whole  body  wanted  a fence  against  heat  and  cold, 
which  I was  forced  to  put  on  and  off  every  day  with  tediousness  and 
trouble.  And,  lastly,  that  he  observed  every  animal  in  this  country 
naturally  to  abhor  the  Yahoos,  whom  the  weaker  avoided,  and  the 
stronger  drove  from  them,  so  that,  supposing  us  to  have  the  gift  of  rea- 
son, he  could  not  see  how  it  were  possible  to  cure  that  natural  antipathy 
which  every  creature  discovered  against  us  ; nor  consequently  how  we 
could  tame  and  render  them  serviceable.  However,  he  would  (as  he 
said)  debate  the  matter  no  farther,  because  he  was  more  desirous  to 
know  my  own  story,  the  country  where  I was  born,  and  the  several 
actions  and  events  of  my  life  before  I came  hither. 

I assured  him  how  extremely  desirous  I was  that  he  should  be  satisfied 
in  every  point ; but  I doubted  much  whether  it  would  be  possible  lor 
me  to  explain  myself  on  several  subjects  whereof  his  honour  could  have 
no  conception,  because  I saw  nothing  in  his  country  to  which  I could 
resemble  them.  That,  however,  I would  do  my  best,  and  strive  to  ex- 
oress  myself  by  similitudes,  humbly  desiring  his  assistance  when  I 
wanted  proper  words,  which  he  was  pleased  to  promise  me. 

1 said  my  birth  was  of  honest  parents  in  an  island  called  England, 


A VOYAGE  TO  THE  HOUYHNIINMS. 


«4J 


which  was  remote  from  this  country  as  many  days’ journey  as  the 
strongest  of  his  honour’s  servants  could  travel  in  the  annual  course  of 
the  sun.  That  I was  bred  a surgeon,  whose  trade  is  to  cure  wounds  and 
hurts  in  the  body  got  by  accident  or  violence  ; that  my  country  was  go- 
verned by  a female  man,  whom  we  called  Queen.  That  I left  it  to  get 
riches,  whereby  I might  maintain  myself  and  family  when  I should  re- 
turn. That  in  my  last  voyage  I was  commander  of  the  ship,  and  had 
about  fifty  Yahoos  under  me,  many  of  which  died  at  sea,  and  I was 
forced  to  supply  them  by  others  picked  out  from  several  nations.  That 
our  ship  was  twice  in  danger  of  being  sunk  ; the  first  time  by  a great 
storm,  and  the  second  by  striking  against  a rock.  Here  my  master 
interposed  by  asking  me  how  I could  persuade  strangers  out  of  different 
countries  to  venture  with  me  after  the  losses  I had  sustained  and  the 
hazards  I had  run.  I said  they  were  fellows  of  desperate  fortunes  forced 
to  fly  from  the  places  of  their  birth  on  account  of  their  poverty  or  their 
crimes.  Some  were  undone  by  lawsuits  ; others  spent  all  they  had  in 
drinking,  whoring,  and  gaming  ; others  fled  for  treason  ; many  for 
murder,  theft,  poisoning,  robbery,  perjury,  forgery,  coining  false  money, 
for  committing  rapes  or  sodomy,  for  flying  from  their  colours,  or  desert- 
ing to  the  enemy,  and  most  of  them  had  broken  prison  ; none  of  these 
durst  return  to  their  native  countries  for  fear  of  being  hanged  or  of 
starving  in  a jail ; and  therefore  were  under  a necessity  of  seeking  a 
livelihood  in  other  places. 

During  this  discourse  my  master  was  pleased  to  interrupt  me  several 
times  ; I had  made  use  of  many  circumlocutions  in  describing  to  him 
the  nature  of  the  several  crimes  for  which  most  of  our  crew  had  been 
forced  to  fly  the  country.  This  labour  took  up  several  days  conversa- 
tion before  he  was  able  to  comprehend  me.  He  was  wholly  at  a loss  to 
know  what  could  be  the  use  or  necessity  of  practising  those  vices.  To 
clear  up  which  I endeavoured  to  give  him  some  ideas  of  the  desire 
of  power  and  riches,  of  the  terrible  effects  of  lust,  intemperance,  malice 
and  envy.  All  this  I was  forced  to  define  and  describe  by  putting  of 
cases,  and  making  of  suppositions  ; after  which,  like  one  whose  imagi- 
nation was  struck  with  something  never  seen  or  heard  of  before,  he  would 
lift  up  his  eyes  with  amazement  and  indignation.  Power,  government, 
war,  law,  punishment,  and  a thousand  other  things  had  no  terms 
wherein  that  language  could  express  them,  which  made  the  difficulty 
almost  insuperable  to  give  my  master  any  conception  of  what  I meant. 
But  being  of  an  excellent  understanding,  much  improved  by  contempla- 
tion and  converse,  he  at  last  arrived  at  a competent  knowledge  of  vbat 
human  nature  in  our  parts  of  the  world  is  capable  to  pertorm.  and  de- 
sired I would  give  him  some  particular  account  ot  that  lana  wiucf  v\e 
Call  Europe,  but  especially  ol  my  own  country. 


144 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


CHAPTER  V. 

The  author,  at  his  master’s  commands,  informs  him  of  the  state  of  England. 
The  causes  of  war  among  the  princes  of  Europe.  The  author  begins  "to  ex* 
plain  the  English  constitution. 

THE  reader  may  please  to  observe  that  the  following  extract  of  many 
conversations  I had  with  my  master,  contains  a summary  of  the 
most  material  points,  of  which  were  discoursed  at  several  times  for  above 
two  years  ; his  honour  often  desiring  fuller  satisfaction  as  I farther  im- 
proved in  the  Houyhnhnm  tongue.  I laid  before  him  as  well  as  I could 
the  whole  state  of  Europe  ; I discoursed  of  trade  and  manufactures,  of 
arts  and  sciences  ; and  the  answers  I gave  to  all  the  questions  he  made 
as  they  arose  upon  several  subjects  were  a fund  of  conversation  not  to 
be  exhausted.  But  I shall  here  only  set  down  the  substance  of  what 
passed  between  us  concerning  my  own  country,  reducing  it  into  order  as 
well  as  I can  without  any  regard  to  time  or  other  circumstances,  while 
I strictly  adhere  to  truth.  My  only  concern  is  that  I shall  hardly  be 
able  to  do  justice  to  my  master's  arguments  and  expressions,  which 
must  needs  suffer  by  my  v?ant  of  capacity  as  well  as  by  a translation  into 
our  barbarous  English. 

In  obedience  therefore  to  his  honour’s  commands  I related  to  him  the 
revolution  under  the  Prince  of  Orange,  the  long  war  with  France  entered 
into  by  the  said  Prince,  and  renewed  by  his  successor,  the  present 
Queen,  wherein  the  greatest  powers  of  Christendom  were  engaged,  and 
w hich  still  continued.  I computed,  at  his  request,  that  about  a million 
of  Yahoos  might  have  been  killed  in  the  whole  progress  of  it,  and  perhaps 
a hundred  or  more  cities  taken,  and  thrice  as  many  ships  burnt  or  sunk. 

He  asked  me  what  were  the  usual  causes  or  motives  that  made  one 
country  go  to  war  with  another.  I answered,  they  were  innumerable, 
but  I should  only  mention  a few  of  the  chief.  Sometimes  the  ambition 
of  princes,  who  never  think  they  have  land  or  people  enough  to  govern : 
sometimes  the  corruption  of  ministers,  who  engage  their  master  in  a 
war  in  order  to  stifle  or  divert  the  clamour  of  the  subjects  against  their 
evil  administration.  Difference  in  opinions  hath  cost  many  millions  of 
lives.  For  instance,  whether  flesh  be  bread,  or  bread  be  flesh  ; whether 
the  juice  of  a certain  berry  be  blood  or  wine  ; whether  whistling  be  a 
vice  or  a virtue  ; whether  it  be  better  to  kiss  a post  or  throw  it  into  the 
fire  ; what  is  the  best  colour  for  a coat,  whether  black,  white,  red  or 
grey  ; and  whether  it  should  be  long  or  short,  narrow  or  wide,  dirty  or 
clean,  with  many  more.  Neither  are  any  wars  so  turious  and  bloody, 
or  of  so  long  continuance,  as  those  occasioned  by  difference  in  opinion, 
especially  if  it  be  in  things  indifferent. 

Sometimes  the  quarrel  between  two  princes  is  to  decide  which  of 
them  shall  dispossess  a third  of  his  dominions,  where  neither  of  them 
pretend  to  any  right.  Sometimes  pne  prince  quarrelleth  with  another, 
for  fear  the  other  should  quarrel  with  him.  Sometimes  a war  is  entered 
upon,  because  the  enemy  is  too  strong,  and  sometimes  because  he  is 
too  weak.  Sometimes  our  neighbours  want  the  things  which  we  have, 
or  have  the  things  which  we  want ; and  we  both  fight,  till  they  take 


A VOYAGE  TO  THE  HOUYHNHNMS. 


«45 


ours  or  give  us  theirs.  It  is  a very  justifiable  cause  of  war  to  invade  a 
country  after  the  people  have  b^n  wasted  by  famine,  destroyed  by 
pestilence,  or  embroiled  by  faction^mnong  themselves.  It  is  justifiable 
to  enter  into  war  against  our  nearest  ally,  when  one  of  his  towns  lies 
convenient  for  us,  or  a territory  of  land,  that  would  render  our  do- 
minions round  and  complete.  If  a prince  send  forces  into  a nation, 
where  the  people  are  poor  and  ignorant,  he  may  lawfully  put  half  of 
them  to  death,  and  make  slaves  of  the  rest,  in  order  to  civilise  and 
reduce  them  from  their  barbarous  way  of  living.  It  is  a very  kingly, 
honourable,  and  frequent  practice,  when  one  prince  desires  the  assist- 
ance of  another  to  secure  him  against  an  invasion,  that  the  assistant, 
when  he  hath  driven  out  the  invader,  should  seize  on  the  dominions 
himself,  and  kill,  imprison  or  banish  the  prince  he  came  to  relieve. 
Alliance  by  blood  or  marriage,  is  a frequent  cause  of  war  between 
princes,  and  the  nearer  the  kindred  is,  the  greater  is  their  disposition 
to  quarrel : poor  nations  are  hungry,  and  rich  nations  are  proud,  and 
pride  and  hunger  will  ever  be  at  variance.  For  those  reasons,  the  trade 
of  a soldier  is  held  the  most  honourable  of  all  others : because  a soldier 
is  a Yahoo  hired  to  kill  in  cold  blood  as  many  of  his  own  species,  who 
have  never  offended  him,  as  possibly  he  can. 

There  are  likewise  another  kind  of  princes  in  Europe,  not  able  to 
make  war  by  themselves,  who  hire  out  their  troops  to  richer  nations, 
for  so  much  a day  to  each  man  ; of  which  they  keep  three-fourths  to 
themselves,  and  it  is  the  best  part  of  their  maintenance ; such  are  those 
in  many  northern  parts  of  Europe. 

What  you  have  told  me  (said  my  master)  upon  the  subject  of  war, 
does  indeed  discover  most  admirably  the  effects  of  that  reason  you 
pretend  to  : however,  it  is  happy  that  the  shame  is  greater  than  the 
danger  ; and  that  nature  hath  left  you  utterly  incapable  of  doing  much 
mischief. 

For  your  mouths  lying  flat  with  your  faces,  you  can  hardly  bite  each 
other  to  any  purpose,  unless  by  consent.  Then  as  to  the  claws  upon 
your  feet  before  and  behind,  they  are  so  short  and  tender  that  one  of 
our  Yahoos  would  drive  a dozen  of  yours  before  him.  And  therefore  in 
recounting  the  numbers  of  those  who  have  been  killed  in  battle,  I 
cannot  but  think  that  you  have  said  the  thing  that  is  not . 

I could  not  forbear  shaking  my  head  and  smiling  a little  at  his  igno- 
rance. And  being  no  stranger  to  the  art  of  war,  I gave  him  a descrip- 
tion of  cannons,  culverins,  muskets,  carabines,  pistols,  bullets,  powder, 
swords,  bayonets,  sieges,  retreats,  attacks,  undermines,  countermines, 
bombardments,  sea-fights  ; ships  sunk  with  a thousand  men,  twenty 
thousand  killed  on  each  side  ; dying  groans,  limbs  flying  in  the  air, 
smoke,  noise,  confusion,  trampling  to  death  under  horses'  feet ; flight, 
pursuit,  victory  ; fields  strewed  with  carcases  left  for  food  to  dogs,  and 
wolves,  and  birds  of  prey  ; plundering,  stripping,  ravishing,  burning 
and  destroying. / And  to  set  forth  the  valour  of  my  own  dear  country- 
men, I assured  him,  that  I had  seen  them  blow  up  a hundred  enemies 
at  once  in  a siege,  and  as  many  in  a ship,  and  beheld  the  dead  bodies 
come  down  in  pieces  from  the  clouds,  to  the  great  diversion  of  the 
spectators.  — — j 

I was  going  on  to  more  particulars,  when  my  master  commanded  me 

io 


i^6 


DEAN  £ Wj.  FT'S  WORKS. 


silence.  He  said,  whoever  understood  the  nature  of  Yahoos  fright 
easily  believe  it  possible  for  so  vile  an  animal  to  be  capable  of  every 
action  I had  named,  if  their  strengtA^nd  cunning  equalled  their  malice. 
But  as  my  discourse  had  increased  his  abhorrence  of  the  whole  species, 
so  he  found  it  gave  him  a disturbance  in  his  mind,  to  which  he  was 
wholly  a stranger  before.  He  thought  his  ears,  being  used  to  such 
abominable  words,  might  by  degrees  admit  them  with  less  detestation. 
That  although  he  hated  the  Yahoos  of  this  country,  yet  he  no  more 
blamed  them  for  their  odious  qualities,  than  he  did  a Gnnayh  (a  bird  of 
prey)  for  its  cruelty,  or  a sharp  stone  for  cutting  my  hoof.  But  when  a 
creature  pretending  to  reason,  could  be  capable  of  such  enormities,  he 
dreaded  lest  the  corruption  of  that  faculty  might  be  worse  than  brutality 
itself.  He  seemed  therefore  confident,  that  instead  of  reason,  we  were 
only  possessed  of  some  quality  fitted  to  increase  our  natural  vices  ; as 
the  reflection  from  a troubled  stream  returns  the  image  of  an  ill-shapen 
body,  not  only  larger,  but  more  distorted. 

He  added,  that  he  had  heard  too  much  upon  the  subject  of  war,  both 
in  this  and  some  former  discourses.  There  was  another  point  which  a 
little  perplexed  him  at  present.  I had  informed  him,  that  some  of  our 
crew  left  their  country  on  account  of  being  ruined  by  law  ; that  I had 
already  explained  the  meaning  of  the  word  ; but  he  was  at  a loss  how  it 
should  come  to  pass,  that  the  law  which  was  intended  for  every  man’s 
preservation,  should  be  any  man’s  ruin.  Therefore  he  desired  to  be 
farther  satisfied  what  I meant  by  law,  and  what  sort  of  dispensers 
thereof  it  could  be  by  whose  practices  the  property  of  any  person  could 
be  lost,  instead  of  being  preserved.  He  added,  he  saw  not  what  great 
occasion  there  could  be  for  this  thing  called  law,  since  all  the  intentions 
and  purposes  of  it  may  be  fully  answered  by  following  the  dictates  of 
nature  and  reason,  which  are  sufficient  guides  for  a reasonable  animal, 
as  we  pretended  to  be,  in  showing  us  what  we  ought  to  do,  and  what  to 
avoid. 

I assured  his  honour,  that  law  was  a science  wherein  I had  not  much 
conversed,  having  little  more  knowledge  of  it  than  what  I had  obtained 
by  employing  advocates,  in  vain,  upon  some  injustices  that  had  been 
done  me,  and  by  conversing  with  some  others  who  by  the  same  method 
had  first  lost  their  substance,  and  then  left  their  own  country  under  the 
mortification  of  such  disappointments ; however  l would  give  him  all 
the  satisfaction  I was  able. 

I said  that  those  who  made  profession  of  this  science  were  exceed- 
ingly multiplied,  being  almost  equal  to  the  caterpillars  in  number;  that 
they  were  of  divers  degrees,  distinctions,  and  denominations.  The 
numerousness  of  those  that  dedicated  themselves  to  this  profession 
was  such  that  the  fair  and  justifiable  advantage  and  income  of  the 
profession  was  not  sufficient  for  the  decent  and  handsome  maintenance 
of  multitudes  of  those  who  followed  it.  Hence  it  came  to  pass  that  it 
• as  found  needful  to  supply  that  by  artifice  and  cunning,  which  coulc. 
not  be  procured  by  just  and  honest  methods : the  better  to  bring  which 
about,  very  many  men  among  us  were  bred  up  from  their  youth  in  tht 
art  of  proving  by  words  multiplied  for  the  purpose  that  white  is  black, 
and  black  is  white,  according  as  they  are  paid.  The  greatness  of  these 
n en’s  assurance  and  the  boldness  of  their  pretensions  gained  upon  the 


A VOYAGE  TO  THE  HOUYHNHNMS. 


*47 


opinion  of  the  vulgar,  whom  in  a manner  they  made  slaves  of,  and  got 
into  their  hands  much  of  the  larger  share  of  the  practice  of  their  pro- 
fession. These  practitioners  were  by  men  of  discernment  called  petti- 
foggers (that  is,  confounders,  or  rather,  destroyers  of  right),  as  it  was 
my  ill-hap  as  well  as  the  misfortune  of  my  suffering  acquaintance  to  be 
engaged  only  with  this  species  of  the  profession.  I desired  his  honour 
to  understand  the  description  I had  to  give,  and  the  ruin  I had  com- 
plained of  to  relate  to  these  sectaries  only,  and  how  and  by  what  means 
the  misfortunes  we  met  with  were  brought  upon  us  by  the  management 
of  these  men,  might  be  more  easily  conceived  by  explaining  to  him 
their  method  of  proceeding,  which  could  not  be  better  done  than  by 
giving  him  an  example  : — 

My  neighbour,  said  I,  I will  suppose,  has  a mind  to  my  cow,  he  hires 
one  of  these  advocates  to  prove  that  he  ought  to  have  my  cow  110m 
me.  I must  then  hire  another  of  them  to  defend  my  right,  it  being 
against  all  rules  of  law  that  any  man  should  be  allowed  to  speak  for 
himself.  Now  in  this  case,  I who  am  the  right  owner  lie  under  two 
great  disadvantages.  First,  my  advocate,  being,  as  I.  said  before,  prac- 
tised almost  from  his  cradle  in  defending  falsehood,  is  quite  out  of  his 
element  when  he  would  argue  for  right,  which  as  an  office  unnatural  he 
attempts  with  great  awkwardness,  if  not  with  an  ill-will.  The  second 
disadvantage  is  that  my  advocate  must  proceed  with  great  caution ; for, 
since  the  maintenance  of  so  many  depend  on  the  keeping  up  of 
business,  should  he  proceed  too  summarily,  if  he  does  not  incur  the 
displeasure  of  his  superiors,  he  is  sure  to  gain  the  ill-will  and  hatred  of 
his  brethren,  as  being  by  them  esteemed  one  that  would  lessen  the 
practice  of  the  law.  This  being  the  case,  I have  but  two  methods  to 
preserve  my  cow.  The  first  is,  to  gain  over  my  adversary’s  advocate 
with  a double  fee  ; from  the  manner  and  design  of  whose  education 
before  mentioned  it  is  easy  to  expect  he  will  be  induced  to  drop  his 
client  and  let  the  balance  fall  to  my  side.  The  second  way  is  for  my 
advocate  not  to  insist  on  the  justice  of  my  cause,  by  allowing  the  cow 
to  belong  to  my  adversary  ; and  this,  if  it  be  dexterously  and  skilfully 
done,  will  go  a great  way  towards  obtaining  a favourable  verdict,  it 
having  been  found,  from  a careful  observation  of  issues  and  events,  that 
the  wrong  side,  under  the  management  of  such  practitioners,  has  the 
fairer  chance  for  success,  and  this  more  especially  if  it  happens,  as  it 
did  in  mine  and  my  friend’s  case,  and  may  have  done  since,  that  the 
person  appointed  to  decide  all  controversies  of  propriety  as  well  as  for 
the  trial  of  criminals,  who  should  be  taken  out  of  the  most  knowing 
and  wise  of  his  profession,  is  by  the  recommendation  of  a great 
favourite,  or  court-mistr«ss,  chosen  out  of  the  sect  before  mentioned, 
and  so.  having  been  under  a strange  bias  all  his  life  against  equity  and 
fair  dealing,  lies  as  it  were  under  a fatal  necessity  of  favouring  shifting, 
double-dealing  and  oppression,  and  besides  through  age,  infirmity,  ano 
distempers  grown  lazy,  unactive,  and  inattentive,  and  thereby  almost 
incapacitated  from  doing  anything  becoming  the  nature  of  his  employ- 
ment and  the  duty  of  his  office.  In  s.uch  cases,  the  decisions  and 
determinations  of  men  so  bred,  and  so  qualified,  mav  with  reason  be 
expected  on  the  wrong  side  of  the  cause,  since  those  who  can  take 
harangue  and  noise  (if  pursued  with  warmth  and  drawn  out  into  a 

10—2 


i48  DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS . 

length)  for  reasoning,  are  not  much  to  be  wondered  at,  if  they  infei  the 
weight  of  the  argument  from  the  heaviness  of  the  pleading. 

It  is  a maxim  among  these  men,  that  whatever  has  been  done  before 
may  legally  be  done  again  : and  therefore  they  take  special  care  to 
record  all  the  decisions  formerly  made,  even  those  which  have  through 
ignorance  or  corruption  contradicted  the  rules  of  common  justice  and 
the  o-eneral  reason  of  mankind.  These,  under  the  name  ot  precedents, 
thev" produce  as  authorities,  and  thereby  endeavour  to  justify  the  most 
iniquitous  opinions  ; and  they  are  so  lucky  in  this  practice,  that  tt  rarely 
fails  of  decrees  answerable  to  their  intent  and  expectation. 

In  pleading,  they  studiously  avoid  entering  into  the  merits  of  the 
caused  but  are  loud,  violent  and  tedious  in  dwelling  upon  all  circum- 
stances which  are  not  to  the  purpose.  For  instance,  in  the  case  already 
mentioned,  they  never  desire  to  know  what  claim  or  title  my  adversary 
had  to  mv  cow,  but  whether  the  said  cow  were  red  or  black,  her  horns 
lon°-  or  short;  whether  the  field  I graze  her  in  be  round  or  squai  e, 
whether  she  was  milked  at  home  or  abroad,  what  diseases  she  is  subject 
to  and  the  like  ; after  which  they  consult  precedents,  adjourn  the 
cause  from  time  to  time,  and  in  ten,  twenty,  or  thirty  years,  come  to  an 

'S7teis  likewise  to  be  observed  that  this  society  hath  a peculiar  cant 
and  jargon  of  their  own,  that  mo  other  mortal  can  understand,  a 
wherein  all  their  laws  are  written,  which  they  take  special  care  to  m - 
tinlv  • whereby  they  have  gone  near  to  confound  the  very  essence  ot 
truth’  and  falsehood,  of  right  and  wrong  ; so  that  it  may  take  thirty 
years  to  decide  whether  the  field,  left  me  by  mv  ancestors  for  six  genera- 
tions, belongs  to  me  or  to  a stranger  three  hundred  miles  ott.  _ 

In  the  trial  of  persons  accused  for  crimes  against  the  state  the 
method  is  much  more  short  and  commendable  : for  if  those  m power, 
who  know  well  how  to  choose  instruments  fit  for  their  purpose  take 
care  to  recommend  and  promote  out  of  this  clan  a proper  person,  h 
method  of  education  and  practice  makes  it  easy  to  him  when  his 
patron’s  disposition  is  understood,  without  difficulty  or  study  either 
condemn  or  acquit  the  criminal,  and  at  the  same  time  strictly  preserv 

''Here  my  master  interposing  said  it  was  a pity,  that  creatures  endowed 
with  such  prodigious  abilities  of  mind  as  these  advocates  by  the  descrip- 
tion I gave  of  them  must  certainly  be,  were  not  rather  encouraged  o 
be  instructors  of  others  in  wisdom  and  knowledge.  In  answer  to  which 
I assured  his  honour  that  the  business  and  study  of  their  “n  a 
and  profession  so  took  up  all  their  thoughts  and  engio  • , 

time  that  they  minded  nothing  else,  and  that  therefore,  in  all  points 
o™  of  their  own1 trade,  many  of  them  were  of  so  great  ignorance  and 
stupidity,  that  it  was  hard  to  pick  out  of  any  profession  a generation  of 
25e despicable  in  common  conversation  or  who ) were  so  much 
looked  upon  as  avowed  enemies  to  all  knowleage  and  learning  being 
equallv  disposed  to  pervert  the  general  reason  of  mankind  in  every 
other  subject  of  discourse,  as  in  that  of  their  own  calling. 


A VOYAGE  TO  THE  HOU YHNHNMS, 


*49 


CHAPTER  VI. 

A continuation  of  the  state  of  England,  so  well  governed  by  a Queer  as  to 
need  no  first  minister.  The  character  of  such  an  one  in  some  European 
courts. 

MY  master  was  yet  wholly  at  a loss  to  understand  what  motives 
could  incite  this  race  of  lawyers  to  perplex,  disquiet,  and  weary 
themselves,  and  engage  in  a confederacy  of  injustice,  merely  for  the 
sake  of  injuring  their  fellow-animals  ; neither  could  he  comprehend 
what  I meant  in  saying  they  did  it  for  hire.  Whereupon  I was  at  much 
pains  to  describe  to  him  the  use  of  money,  the  materials  it  was  made 
of,  and  the  value  of  the  metals ; that  when  a Yahoo  had  got  a great  store 
of  this  precious  substance,  he  was  able  to  purchase  whatever  he  had  a 
mind  to,  the  finest  clothing,  the  noblest  houses,  great  tracts  of  land, 
the  most  costly  meats  and  drinks,  and  have  his  choice  of  the  most 
beautiful  females.  Therefore  since  money  alone  was  able  to  perform 
all  these  feats,  our  Yahoos  thought  they  could  never  have  enough  of  it 
to  spend  or  to  save,  as  they  found  themselves  inclined  from  their 
natural  bent  either  to  profusion  or  avarice.  That  the  rich  man  enjoyed 
the  fruit  of  the  poor  man’s  labour,  and  the  latter  were  a thousand  to 
one  in  proportion  to  the  former.  That  the  bulk  of  our  people  were 
forced  to  live  miserably,  by  labouring  every  day  for  small  wages  to 
make  a few  live  plentifully.  I enlarged  myself  much  on  these  and 
many  other  particulars  to  the  same  purpose  : but  his  honour  was  still 
to  seek  : for  he  went  upon  a supposition  that  all  animals  had  a title  to 
their  share  in  the  productions  of  the  earth,  and  especially  those  who 
presided  over  the  rest.  Therefore  he  desired  I would  let  him  know, 
what  these  costly  meats  were,  and  how  any  of  us  happened  to  want 
them.  Whereupon  I enumerated  as  many  sorts  as  came  into  my  head, 
with  the  various  methods  of  dressing  them,  which  could  not  be  done 
without  sending  vessels  by  sea  to  every  part  of  the  world,  as  well  for 
liquors  to  drink,  as  for  sauces,  and  innumerable  other  conveniences.  I 
assured  him,  that  this  whole  globe  of  earth  must  be  at  least  three  times 
gone  round,  before  one  of  our  better  female  Yahoos  could  get  her  break- 
fast, or  a cup  to  put  it  in.  He  said,  that  must  needs  be  a miserable 
country  which  cannot  furnish  food  for  its  own  inhabitants.  But  what 
he  chiefly  wondered  at  was  how  such  vast  tracts  of  grounds  as  I 
described  should  be  wholly  without  fresh  water,  and  the  people  put  to 
the  necessity  of  sending  over  the  sea  for  drink.  I replied,  that  England 
(the  dear  place  of  my  nativity)  was  computed  to  produce  three  times 
the  quantity  of  food,  more  than  its  inhabitants  are  able  to  consume,  as 
well  as  liquors  extracted  from  grain,  or  pressed  out  of  the  fruit  of  certain 
trees,  which  made  excellent  drink,  and  the  same  proportion  in  every 
other  convenience  of  life.  But  in  order  to  feed  the  luxury  and  intem- 
perance of  the  males,  and  the  vanity  of  the  females,  we  sent  away  the 
greatest  part  of  our  necessary  things  to  other  countries,  from  whence 
in  return  we  brought  the  materials  of  diseases,  folly,  and  vice,  to  spend 
among  ourselves.  Hence  it  follows  of  necessity,  that  vast  numbers  of 
our  people  are  compelled  to  seek  their  livelihood  by  begging,  robbing, 
stealing,  cheating,  pimping,  forswearing,  flattering,  suborning,  forging, 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


150 

gaming,  lying,  fawning,  hectoring,  voting,  scribbling,  star-gazing,  poison- 
ing, whoring,  canting,  libelling,  freethinking,  and  the  like  occupations  : 
every  one  of  which  terms  I was  at  much  pains  to  make  him  under- 
stand. 

That  wine  was  not  imported  among  us  from  foreign  countries,  to 
supply  the  want  of  water  or  other  drinks,  but  because  it  was  a sort  of 
liquid  which  made  us  merry,  by  putting  us  out  of  our  senses  ; diverted 
all  melancholy  thoughts,  begat  wild  extravagant  imaginations  in  the 
brain,  raised  our  hopes,  and  banished  our  fears,  suspended  every  office 
of  reason  for  a time,  and  deprived  us  of  the  use  of  our  limbs,  till  we 
fell  into  a profound  sleep;  although  it  must  be  confessed,  that  we 
always  awaked  sick  and  dispirited,  and  that  the  use  of  this  liquor  filled 
us  with  diseases,  which  made  our  lives  uncomfortable  and  short. 

But  beside  all  this,  the  bulk  of  our  people  supported  themselves  by 
furnishing  the  necessities  and  conveniences  of  life  to  the  rich,  and  to 
each  other.  For  instance,  when  I am  at  home  and  dressed  as  I ought 
to  be,  I carry  on  my  body  the  workmanship  of  an  hundred  tradesmen  ; 
the  building  and  furniture  of  my  house  employ  as  many  more,  and  five 
times  the  number  to  adorn  my  wife. 

I was  going  on  to  tell  him  of  another  sort  of  people,  who  get  their  live- 
lihood by  attending  the  sick,  having  upon  some  occasions  informed  his 
honour  that  many  of  my  crew  had  died  of  diseases.  But  here  it  was 
with  the  utmost  difficulty  that  I brought  him  to  apprehend  what  I meant. 
He  could  easily  conceive  that  a Houyhnhnm  grew  weak  and  heavy  a 
few  days  before  his  death,  or  by  some  accident  might  hurt  a limb. 
But  that  nature,  who  works  all  things  to  perfection,  should  suffer  any 
pains  to  breed  in  our  bodies,  he  thought  it  impossible,  and  desired  to 
know  the  reason  of  so  unaccountable  an  evil.  I told  him  we  fed  on  a 
thousand  things  which  ocerated  the  one  contrary  to  each  other  ; that 
we  eat  when  we  were  not  hungry,  and  drank  without  the  provocation 
of  thirst ; that  we  sat  whole  nights  drinking  strong  liquors  without  eating 
a bit,  which  disposed  us  to  sloth,  inflamed  our  bodies,  and  precipitated 
or  prevented  digestion.  That  prostitute  female  Yahoos  acquired  a cer- 
tain malady,  which  bred  rottenness  in  the  bones  of  those  who  fell  into 
their  embraces  ; that  this  and  many  other  diseases  were  propagated 
from  father  to  son,  so  that  great  numbers  come  into  the  world  with 
complicated  maladies  upon  them  ; that  it  would  be  endless  to  give  him 
a catalogue  of  all  diseases  incident  to  human  bodies,  for  they  could  not 
be  fewer  than  five  or  six  hundred,  spread  over  every  limb  and  joint ; in 
short,  every  part,  external  and  intestine,  having  diseases  appropriated 
to  them,  to  remedy  which  there  was  a sort  of  people  bred  up  among  us 
in  the  profession  or  pretence  of  curing  the  sick.  And  because  I had 
some  skill  in  the  faculty  I w^ould  in  gratitude  to  his  honour  let  him  know 
the  whole  mystery  and  method  by  which  they  proceed. 

Their  fundamental  is  that  all  diseases  arise  from  repletion,  from 
whence  they  conclude  that  a great  evacuation  of  the  body  is  necessary 
either  through  the  natural  passage  or  upwards  at  the  mouth.  Their 
next  business  is  from  herbs,  minerals,  gums,  oils,  shells,  salts,  juices, 
seaweed,  excrements,  barks  of  trees,  serpents,  toads,  frogs,  spiders,  dead 
men’s  flesh  and  bones,  beasts,  and  fishes,  to  form  a comnosition  \c 
mell  and  taste  the  most  abominable,  nauseous,  and  ceteaUioie  they 


A VOYAGE  TO  THE  HOUYHNIWMS. 


IS’ 

possibly  contrive,  which  the  stomach  immediately  rejects  with  loathing  ; 
and  this  they  call  a vomit,  or  else  from  the  same  storehouse,  with  some 
other  poisonous  additions,  they  command  us  to  take  in  at  the  orifice 
above  or  below  (just  as  the  physician  then  happens  to  be  disposed)  a 
medicine  equally  annoying  and  disgustful  to  the  bowels,  which,  relaxing 
the  belly,  drives  down  all  before  it,  and  this  they  call  a purge,  or  a glyster. 
For  nature  (as  the  physicians  allege)  having  intended  the  superior 
anterior  orifice  only  for  the  intromission  of  solids  and  liquids,  and  the 
inferior  for  ejection,  these  artists  ingeniously  considering  that  in  all  dis- 
eases nature  is  forced  out  of  her  seat ; therefore,  to  replace  her  in  if 
the  body  must  be  treated  in  a manner  directly  contrary  by  interchang- 
ing the  use  of  each  orifice,  forcing  solids  and  liquids  in  at  the  anus,  and 
making  evacuations  at  the  mouth. 

But  besides  real  diseases  we  are  subject  to  many  that  are  only  ima- 
ginary, for  which  the  physicians  have  invented  imaginary  cures  ; these 
have  their  several  names,  and  so  have  the  drugs  that  are  proper  for 
them,  and  with  these  our  female  Yahoos  are  always  infested. 

One  great  excellency  in  this  tribe  is  their  skill  at  prognostics,  wherein 
they  seldom  fail  ; their  predictions  in  real  diseases  when  they  rise  to 
any  degree  of  malignity,  generally  portending  death,  which  is  always 
in  their  power  when  recovery  is  not ; and,  therefore,  upon  any  unex- 
pected signs  of  amendment,  after  they  have  pronounced  their  sentence, 
rather  than  be  accused  as  false  prophets,  they  know  how  to  approve 
their  sagacity  to  the  world  by  a seasonable  dose. 

They  are  likewise  of  special  use  to  husbands  and  wives,  who  are 
grown  weary  of  their  mates,  to  eldest  sons,  to  great  ministers  of  state, 
and  often  to  princes. 

I had  formerly  upon  occasion  discoursed  with  my  master  upon  the 
nature  of  government  in  general,  and  particularly  of  our  own  excellent 
constitution,  deservedly  the  wonder  and  envy  of  the  whole  world.  But 
having  here  accidentally  mentioned  a minister  of  state,  he  commanded 
me  some  time  after  to  inform  him  what  species  of  Yahoos  1 particularly 
meant  by  that  application. 

I told  him  that  our  she-govemor  or  queen  having  no  ambition  to  gra- 
tify, no  inclination  to  satisfy  of  extending  her  power  to  the  injury  of  her 
neighbours,  or  the  prejudice  of  her  own  subjects,  was  therefore  so  far 
from  needing  a corrupt  ministry  to  carry  on  or  cover  any  sinister  de- 
signs, that  she  not  only  directs  her  own  actions  to  the  good  of  her 
people,  conducts  them  by  the  direction,  and  restrains  them  within  the 
limitation  of  the  laws  of  her  own  country  ; but  submits  the  behaviour 
and  acts  of  those  she  intrusts  with  the  administration  of  her  affairs  tc 
the  examination  of  her  great  council,  and  subjects  them  to  the  penalties 
of  the  law  ; and  therefore  never  puts  any  such  confidence  in  any  of  he 
subjects  as  to  entrust  them  with  the  whole  and  entire  administration  o 
her  affairs  ; but  I added  that,  in  some  former  reigns  here,  and  in  many 
other  courts  of  Europe  now,  where  princes  grew  indolent  and  careless 
of  their  own  affairs  through  a constant  love  and  pursuit  of  pleasure 
they  made  use  of  such  an  administrator  as  I had  mentioned  under  the 
title  of  first  or  chief  minister  of  state,  the  description  of  which,  as  far 
as  it  may  be  collected  not  only  trom  their  actions,  but  from  the  letters, 
memoirs,  and  writings  published  by  themselves,  the  truth  of  which  lias 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


IS* 

not  yet  been  disputed,  may  be  allowed  to  be  as  follows  : that  he  is  a 
person  wholly  exempt  from  joy  and  grief,  love  and  hatred,  pity  and 
anger  ; at  least  makes  use  of  no  other  passions  but  a violent  desire  of 
wealth,  power,  and  titles  ; that  he  applies  his  words  to  all  uses,  except 
to  the  indication  of  his  mind  ; that  he  never  tells  a truth,  but  with  an 
intent  that  you  should  take  it  for  a lie  ; nor  a lie,  but  with  a design  that 
you  should  take  it  for  a truth  ; that  those  he  speaks  worst  of  behind 
their  backs  are  in  the  surest  way  to  preferment ; and  whenever  he  begins 
to  praise  you  to  others  or  to  yourself  you  are  from  that  day  forlorn. 
The  worst  mark  you  can  receive  is  a promise,  especially  when  it  is  con- 
firmed with  an  oath,  after  which  every  wise  man  retires,  and  gives  over 
all  hopes. 

There  are  three  methods  by  which  a man  may  rise  to  be  chief  mi- 
nister. The  first  is  by  knowing  how,  with  prudence,  to  dispose  of  a 
wife,  a daughter,  or  a sister  ; the  second,  by  betraying  or  undermining 
his  predecessor  ; and  the  third  is  by  a’  furious  zeal  in  public  assemblies 
against  the  corruptions  of  the  court.  But  a wise  prince  would  rather 
choose  to  employ  those  who  practise  the  last  of  these  methods;  because 
sugh  zealots  prove  always  the  most  obsequious  and  subservient  to  the 
will  and  passions  of  their  master.  That  these  ministers  having  all  em- 
ployments at  their  disposal,  preserve  themselves  in  power  by  bribing 
the  majority  of  a senate  or  great  council  ; and  at  last  by  an  act  of  in- 
demnity (whereof  I described  the  nature  to  him)  they  secured  them- 
selves from  after  reckonings,  and  retired  from  the  public  laden  with 
the  spoils  of  the  nation. 

The  palace  of  a chief  minister  is  a seminary  to  breed  up  others  in  his 
own  trade  : the  pages,  lackeys,  and  porter,  by  imitating  their  master 
become  ministers  of  state  in  their  several  districts,  and  learn  to  excel 
in  the  three  principal  ingredients  of  insolence,  lying,  and  bribery.  Ac- 
cordingly, they  have  a subaltern  court  paid  to  them  by  persons  of  the 
best  rank,  and  sometimes  by  the  force  of  dexterity  and  impudence  ar- 
rive through  several  gradations  to  be  successors  to  their  lord. 

. He  is  usually  governed  by  a decayed  wench,  or  favourite  footman, 
who  are  the  tunnels  through  which  all  graces  are  conveyed,  and  may 
properly  be  called,  in  the  last  resort,  the  governors  of  the  kingdom. 

One  day  in  discourse,  my  master  having  heard  me  mention  the  nobi- 
lity of  my  country  was  pleased  to  make  me  a compliment  which  I could 
not  pretend  to  deserve  : that  he  was  sure  I must-have  been  born  of 
some  noble  family,  because  I far  exceeded  in  shape,  colour  and  cleanli- 
ness all  the  Yahoos  of  his  nation,  although  I seemed  to  fail  in  strength 
and  agility,  which  must  be  imputed  to  my  different  way  of  living  from 
those  other  brutes,  and  besides,  I was  not  only  endowed  with  the 
faculty  of  speech,  but  likewise  with  some  rudiments  of  reason  to  a de- 
gree, that  with  all  his  acquaintance  I passed  for  a prodigy. 

He  made  me  observe  that,  among  the  Houyhnhnms,  the  white,  the 
sorrel,  and  the  iron-grey  were  not  so  exactly  shaped  as  the  bay,  the 
dapple-grey,  and  the  black  ; nor  born  with  equal  talents  of  the  mind,  or 
a capacity  to  improve  them  ; and  therefore  continued  always  in  the 
condition  of  servants,  without  ever  aspiring  to  match  out  of  their  own 
race,  which  in  that  country  would  be  reckoned  monstrous  and  unnatural, 

I made  his  honour  my  most  humble  acknowledgments  tor  the  good 


A VOYAGE  TO  THE  HOUYHNHNMS. 


*53 


opinion  he  was  pleased  to  conceive  of  me ; but  assured  him  at  the 
same  time  that  my  birth  was  of  the  lower  sort,  having  been  born  of 
plain  honest  parents,  who  were  just  able  to  give  me  a tolerable  educa- 
tion. Thai  nobility  among  us  was  altogether  a different  thing  from  the 
idea  he  had  of  it ; that  our  young  noblemen  are  bred  from  their  child- 
hood in  idleness  and  luxury  ; that  as  soon  as  years  will  permit  they 
consume  their  vigour,  and  contract  odious  diseases  among  lewd 
females  ; and  when  their  fortunes  are  almost  ruined  they  marry  some 
woman  of  mean  birth,  disagreeable  person,  and  unsound  constitution 
merely  for  the  sake  of  money,  whom  they  hate  and  despise.  That  the 
productions  of  such  marriages  are  generally  scrofulous,  ricketty  or 
deformed  children,  by  which  means  the  family  seldom  continues  above 
three  generations,  unless  the  wife  takes  care  to  provide  a healthy  father 
among  her  neighbours  or  acquaintance  in  order  to  improve  and  con- 
tinue the  breed.  That  a weak,  diseased  body,  a meagre  countenance, 
and  sallow  complexion  are  no  uncommon  marks  of  a great  man  ; and 
a healthy,  robust  appearance  is  so  far  disgraceful  in  a man  of  quality 
that  the  world  is  apt  to  conclude  his  real  father  to  have  been  one  of 
the  inferiors  of  the  family,  especially  when  it  is  seen  that  the  imperfec- 
tions of  his  mind  run  parallel  with  those  of  his  body  and  are  little  else 
than  a composition  of  spleen,  dulness,  ignorance,  caprice,  sensuality, 
and  pride. 

CHAPTER  VII. 

The  author’s  great  love  of  his  native  country.  His  master’s  observations  upon 
the  constitution  and  administration  of  England,  as  described  by  the  author, 
with  parallel  cases  and  comparisons.  His  master’s  observations  upon  human 
nature. 

THE  reader  may  be  disposed  to  wonder  how  I could  prevail  on 
myself  to  give  so  free  a representation  of  my  own  species  among 
a race  of  mortals  who  were  already  too  apt  to  conceive  the  vilest  opinion 
of  human  kind  from  that  entire  congruity  betwixt  me  and  their  Yahoos. 
But  I must  freely  confess  that  the  many  virtues  of  those  excellent 
quadrupeds  placed  in  opposite  view  to  human  corruptions,  had  so  far 
opened  my  eyes  a*d  enlightened  my  understanding,  that  I began  to 
view  the  actions  and  passions  of  man  in  a very  different  light,  and  to 
think  the  honour  of  my  own  kind  not  worth  managing  ; which,  besides, 
it  was  impossible  for  me  to  do  before  a person  of  so  acute  a judgment  as 
my  master,  who  daily  convinced  me  of  a thousand  faults  in  myself, 
whereof  I had  not  the  least  perception  before,  and  which  among  us 
would  never  be  numbered  even  among  human  infirmities.  I had  like- 
wise learned  from  his  example  an  utter  detestation  of  all  falsehood  or 
disguise,  and  truth  appeared  so  amiable  to  me  that  I determined  upon 
sacrificing  everything  to  it. 

Let  me  deal  so  candidly  with  the  reader,  as  to  confess  that  there  was 
yet  a much  stronger  motive  for  the  freedom  I took  in  my  representa- 
tion of  things.  I had  not  been- a year  in  this  country  before  I con^ 
tracted  such  a love  and  veneration  for  the  inhabitants  that  I entered  on 
a firm  resolution  never  to  return  to  human  kind,  but  to  pass  the  rest  of 
my  life  among  these  admirable  Houyhnhnms  in  the  contemplation  and 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WOZKS. 


i$4 

practice  of  every  virtue  ; where  I could  have  no  examnle  or  incitement 
to  vice.  But  it  was  decreed  by  fortune,  my  perpetual  enemy,  that  so 
great  a felicity  should  not  fall  to  my  share.  However,  it  is  now  some 
comfort  to  reflect  that  in  what  I said  of  my  countrymen  I extenuated 
their  faults  as  much  as  I durst  before  so  strict  an  examiner,  and  upon 
every  article  gave  as  favourable  a turn  as  the  matter  would  bear.  F or, 
indeed,  who  is  there  alive  that  will  not  be  swayed  by  his  bias  and 
partiality  to  the  place  of  his  birth  ? 

I have  related  the  substance  of  several  conversations  I had  with  my 
master  during  the  greatest  part  of  the  time  I had  the  honour  to  be  in 
his  service,  but  have  indeed  for  brevity  sake  omitted  much  more  than 
is  here  set  down. 

When  I had  answered  all  Ills  questions,  and  his  curiosity  seemed  to 
be  fully  satisfied,  he  sent  for  me  one  morning  early,  and  commanding 
me  to  sit  down  at  some  distance  (an  honour  which  he  had  never  before 
conferred  upon  me),  he  said  he  had  been  very  seriously  considering  my 
whole  story  as  far  as  it  related  both  to  myself  and  my  country.  That 
he  looked  upon  us  a sort  of  animals  to  whose  share,  by  what  accident  he 
could  not  conjecture,  some  small  pittance  of  reason  had  fallen,  whereof 
we  made  no  other  use  than  by  its  assistance  to  aggravate  our  natural 
corruptions,  and  to  acquire  new  ones  which  Nature  had  not  given  us  ; 
that  we  disarmed  ourselves  of  the  few  abilities  she  had  bestowed,  had 
been  very  successful  in  multiplying  our  original  wants,  and  seemed  to 
spend  our  whole  lives  in  vain  endeavours  to  supply  them  by  our  own 
inventions.  That,  as  to  myself,  it  was  manifest  I had  neither  the  strength 
nor  agility  of  a common  Yahoo,  that  I walked  infirmly  on  my  hinder  feet, 
had  found  out  a contrivance  to  make  my  claws  of  no  use  or  defence, 
and  to  remove  the  hair  from  my  chin,  which  was  intended  as  a shelter 
from  the  sun  and  the  weather.  Lastly,  that  I could  neither  run  with 
speed,  nor  climb  trees  like  my  brethren  (as  he  called  them)  the  Yahoos 
in  this  country. 

That  our  institutions  of  government  and  law  were  plainly  owing  to 
our  gross  defects  in  reason,  and,  by  consequence,  in  virtue  ; because 
reason  alone  is  sufficient  to  govern  a rational  creature ; which  was 
therefore  a character  we  had  no  pretence  to  challenge,  even  from  the 
account  I had  given  of  my  own  people,  although  he  manifestly  perceived 
that,  in  order  to  favour  them,  I had  concealed  many  particulars,  and 
often  said  the  thing  which  was  not . 

He  was  the  more  confirmed  in  this  opinion,  because  he  observed  that, 
as  I agreed  in  every  feature  of  my  body  with  other  Yahoos,  except  where 
it  was  to  my  real  disadvantage  in  point  of  strength,  speed  and  activity, 
the  shortness  of  my  claws,  and  some  other  particulars  where  nature  had 
no  part ; so  from  the  representation  I had  given  him  of  our  lives,  our 
manners,  and  our  actions,  he  found  as  near  a resemblance  in  the  dispo- 
sition of  our  minds.  He  said  the  Yahoos  were  known  to  hate  one 
another  more  than  they  did  any  different  species  of  animals  ; and  the 
reason  usually  assigned  was  the  odiousness  of  their  own  shapes,  which 
all  could  see  in  the  rest,  but  not  in  themselves.  He  had  therefore 
begun  to  think  it  not  unwise  in  us  to  cover  our  bodies,  and  by  that 
invention  conceal  many  of  our  own  deformities  from  each  other,  which 
would  else  be  hardly  supportable.  But  he  now  found  he  had  been  mis* 


A VOYAGE  TO  THE  HOUYHNHNMS. 


IB 

taken,  and  that  the  dissensions  of  those  brutes  in  his  country  were 
owing  to  the  same  cause  with  ours,  as  I had  described  them.  For  if  (said 
he)  you  throw  among  five  Yahoos  as'much  food  as  would  be  sufficient 
for  fifty,  they  will  instead  of  eating  peaceably,  fall  together  by  the  ears, 
each  single  one  impatient  to  have  all  to  itself ; and  therefore  a servant 
was  usually  employed  to  stand  by  while  they  were  feeding  abroad,  and 
those  kept  at  home  were  tied  at  a distance  from  each  other ; that  if  a 
cow  died  of  age  or  accident  before  a Houyhnhnm  could  secure  it  for 
his  own  Yahoos,  those  in  the  neighbourhood  would  come  in  herds  to 
seize  it,  and  then  would  ensue  such  a battle  as  I had  described,  with 
terrible  wounds  made  by  their  claws  on  both  sides,  although  they  seldom 
were  able  to  kill  one  another,  for  want  of  such  convenient  instruments 
of  death  as  we  had  invented.  At  other  times  the  like  battles  have  been 
fought  between  the  Yahoos  of  several  neighbourhoods  without  any 
visible  cause,  those  of  one  district  watching  all  opportunities  to  surprise 
the  next  before  they  are  prepared.  But  if  they  find  their  project  hath 
miscarried,  they  return  home,  and  for  want  of  enemies  engage  in  what 
I call  a civil  war  among  themselves. 

That  in  some  fields  of  his  country  there  are  certain  shining  stones  of 
several  colours,  whereof  the  Yahoos  are  violently  fond,  and  when  part  of 
these  stones  is  fixed  in  the  earth,  as  it  sometimes  happeneth,  they  will 
dig  with  their  claws  for  whole  days  to  get  them  out,  then  carry  them 
away,  and  hide  them  by  heaps  in  their  kennels  ; but  still  looking  round 
with  great  caution  for  fear  their  comrades  should  find  out  their  treasure. 
My  master  said  he  could  never  discover  the  reason  of  this  unnatural 
appetite,  or  how  these  stones  could  be  of  any  use  to  a Yahoo  ; but  now 
he  believed  it  might  proceed  from  the  same  principle  of  avarice,  which 
I had  ascribed  to  mankind  ; that  he  had  once,  by  way  of  experiment, 
privately  removed  a heap  of  these  stones  from  the  place  where  one  of 
his  Yahoos  had  buried  it,  whereupon,  the  sordid  animal  missing  his 
treasure,  by  his  loud  lamenting  brought  the  vrhole  herd  to  the  place  ; 
there  miserably  howled,  then  fell  to  biting  and  tearing  the  rest,  began 
to  pine  away,  would  neither  eat,  nor  sleep,  nor  work,  till  he  ordered  a 
servant  privately  to  convey  the  stones  into  the  same  hole,  and  hide  them 
as  before  ; which  when  his  Yahoo  had  found,  he  presently  recovered  his 
spirits  and  good  humour,  but  took  care  to  remove  them  to  a better 
hiding-place,  and  hath  ever  since  been  a very  serviceable  brute. 

My  master  farther  assured  me,  which  I also  observed  myself,  that  in 
the  fields  where  the  shining  stones  abound,  the  fiercest  and  most  fre- 
auent  battles  are  fought,  occasioned  by  perpetual  inroads  of  the  neigh- 
bouring Yahoos. 

He  said  it  was  common  when  two  Yahoos  discovered  such  a stone 
in  a field,  and  were  contending  which  of  them  should  be  the  proprietor, 
a third  would  take  the  advantage,  and  carry  it  away  from  them  both  ; 
which  my  master  would  needs  contend  to  have  some  kind  of  resem- 
blance with  our  suits  at  law,  wherein  I thought  it  for  our  credit  not  to 
undeceive  him,  since  the  decision  he  mentioned  was  much  more 
equitable  than  many  decrees  among  us.  because  the  plaintiff  and  defen- 
dant there  lost  nothing  besides  the  stone  thev  contended  for,  whereas 
our  courts  of  equity  would  seldom  have  dismissed  the  cause  while  either 
of  them  had  anything  left. 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


\J 


I$6 

My  master,  continuing  his  discourse,  said  there  was  nothing  that 
rendered  the  Yahoos  more  odious  than  their  undistinguishing  appetite 
to  devour  everything  that  came  in  their  way,  whether  herbs,  roots, 
berries,  the  corrupted  flesh  of  animals,  or  all  mingled  together.  And  it 
was  peculiar  in  their  temper  that  they  were  fonder  of  what  they  could 
get  by  rapine  or  stealth  at  a greater  distance  than  much  better  food 
provided  for  them  at  home.  If  their  prey  held  out  they  would  eat  till 
they  were  ready  to  burst,  after  which  Nature  had  pointed  out  to  them 
a certain  root  that  gave  them  a general  evacuation. 

There  was  also  another  kind  of  root,  very  juicy,  but  somewhat  rare 
and  difficult  to  be  found,  which  the  Yahoos  sought  for  with  much  eager- 
ness, and  would  suck  it  with  great  delight ; and  it  produced  the  same 
effects  that  wine  hath  upon  us.  It  would  make  them  sometimes  hug, 
and  sometimes  tear  one  another  ; they  would  howl  and  grin,  and  chatter, 
and  tumble,  and  then  fall  asleep  in  the  dirt. 

I did  indeed  observe  that  the  Yahoos  were  the  only  animals  in  this 
country  subject  to  any  diseases  ; which,  however,  were  much  fewer  than 
horses  have  among  us,  and  contracted  not  by  any  ill  treatment  they 
meet  with,  but  by  the  nastiness  and  greediness  of  that  sordid  brute. 
Neither  has  their  language  any  more  than  a general  appellation  for 
those  maladies,  which  is  borrowed  from  the  name  of  the  beast,  and 
called  Hpea-Yahoo  or  the  Yahoo’s-evil,  and  the  cure  prescribed  is  a 
mixture  of  their  own  dung  and  urine  forcibly  put  down  the  Yahoo’s 
throat.  This  I have  since  often  taken  myself,  and  do  freely  recommend 
it  to  my  countrymen  for  the  public  good,  as  an  admirable  specific 
against  all  diseases  produced  by  repletion. 

As  to  learning,  government,  arts,  manufactures,  and  the  like,  my 
master  confessed  he  could  find  little  or  no  resemblance  between  the 
Yahoos  of  that  country  and  those  in  ours,  for  he  only  meant  to  observe 
what  parity  there  was  in  our  natures.  He  had  heard  indeed  some 
curious  Houyhnhnms  observe  that  in  most  herds  there  was  a sort  of 
ruling  Yahoo  (as  among  us  there  is  generally  some  leading  or  principal 
stag  in  a park)  who  was  always  more  deformed  in  body  and  mischievous 
in  disposition  than  any  of  the  rest.  That  this  leader  had  usually  a 
favourite  as  like  himself  as  he  could  get,  whose  employment  was  to  lick 
his  master’s  feet  and  posteriors,  and  drive  the  female  Yahoos  to  his 
kennel ; for  which  he  was  now  and  then  rewarded  with  a piece  of 
ass’s  flesh.  This  favourite  is  hated  by  the  whole  herd,  and  therefore  to  > 
protect  himself  keeps  always  near  the  person  of  his  leader.  He  usually 
continues  in  office  till  a worse  can  be  found  ; but  the  very  moment 
he  is  discarded,  his  successor,  at  the  head  of  all  the  Yahoos  in  that  dis-  I 
trict,  young  and  old,  male  and  female,  come  in  a body,  and  discharge 
their  excrements  upon  him  from  head  to  foot.  But  how  far  this  might 
be  applicable  to  our  courts  and  favourites,  and  ministers  of  state,  my 
master  said  I could  best  determine. 

I durst  make  no  return  to  this  malicious  insinuation,  which  debased 
human  understanding  below  the  sagacity  of  a common  hound,  who  has 
judgment  enough  to  distinguish  and  follow  the  cry  of  the  ablest  dog  in 
the  pack,  without  being  ever  mistaken. 

My  master  told  me  there  were  some  qualities  remarkable  in  the 
VTahoos,  which  he  had  not  observed  me  to  mention,  or  at  least  very 


A VOYAGE  TO  THE  HOUVHNHNMS . 


»57 

slightly,  in  the  accounts  I had  given  him  of  human  kind  ; he  said,  those 
animals,  like  other  brutes,  had  their  females  in  common  ; but  in  this 
they  differed,  that  the  she  Yahoo  would  admit  the  male  while  she  was 
pregnant,  and  that  the  hes  would  quarrel  and  fight  with  females  as 
fiercely  as  with  each  other.  Both  which  practices  were  such  degrees  of 
brutality  that  norther  sensitive  creature  ever  arrived  at. 

Another  thing  he  wondered  at  in  the  Yahoos  was  their  strange  dispo- 
sition to  nastiness  and  dirt,  whereas  there  appears  to  be  a natural  love 
of  cleanliness  in  all  other  animals.  As  to  the  two  former  accusations  I 
was  glad  to  let  them  pass  without  any  reply,  because  I had  not  a word 
to  offer  upon  them  in  defence  of  my  species,  which  otherwise  I certainly 
had  done  from  my  own  inclinations.  But  I could  have  easily  vindicated 
human  kind  from  the  imputation  of  singularity  upon  this  article,  if  there 
had  been  any  swine  in  that  country  (as  unluckily  for  me  there  were  not), 
which,  although  it  may  be  a sweeter  quadruped  than  a Yahoo,  cannot  I 
humbly  conceive  in  justice  pretend  to  more  cleanliness  ; and  so  his 
honour  himself  must  have  owned,  if  he  had  seen  their  filthy  way  of 
feeding,  and  their  custom  of  wallowing  and  sleeping  in  the  mud. 

My  master  likewise  mentioned  another  quality  which  his  servants 
had  discovered  in  several  Yahoos,  and  to  him  was  wholly  unaccountable. 
He  said  a fancy  would  sometimes  take  a Yahoo  to  retire  into  a corner 
to  lie  down  and  howl,  and  groan,  and  spurn  away  all  that  came  near 
him,  although  he  were  young  and  fat,  wanted  neither  food  nor  water  ; 
nor  could  the  servants  imagine  what  could  possibly  ail  him.  And  the 
only  remedy  they  found  was  to  set  him  to  hard  work,  after  which  he 
would  infallibly  come  to  himself.  To  this  I v\as  silent  out  of  partiality 
to  my  own  kind  ; yet  here  I could  discover  the  true  seeds  of  spleen, 
which  only  seizeth  on  the  lazy,  the  luxurious,  and  the  rich  ; who,  if  they 
were  forced  to  undergo  the  same  regimen,  I would  undertake  for  the 
cure. 

His  honour  had  farther  observed  that  a female  Yahoo  would  often 
stand  behind  a bank  ora  bush  to  gaze  on  the  young  males  passing  by,  and 
then  appear,  and  hide,  using  many  antic  gestures  and  grimaces,  at 
which  time  it  was  observed  that  she  had  a most  offensive  smell  ; and 
when  any  of  the  males  advanced  would  slowly  retire,  looking  often  back, 
and  with  a counterfeit  show  of  fear  run  off  into  some  convenient  place, 
where  she  knew  the  male  would  follow  her. 

At  other  times,  if  a female  stranger  came  among  them,  three  or  four 
of  her  own  sex  would  get  about  her,  and  stare,  and  chatter,  and  grin, 
and  smell  her  all  over,  and  then  turn  off  with  gestures  that  seemed  to 
express  contempt  and  disdain. 

Perhaps  my  master  might  refine  a little  in  these  speculations,  which 
he  had  drawn  from  what  he  observed  himself,  or  had  been  told  him  by 
others  : however,  I could  not  reflect  without  some  amazement  and 
much  sorrow,  that  the  rudiments  of  lewdness,  coquetry,  censure,  and 
scandal,  should  have  place  by  instinct  in  womankind. 

I expected  every  moment  that  my  master  would  accuse  the  Yahoos 
of  those  unnatural  appetites  in  both  sexes,  so  common  among  us.  But 
Nature  it  seems  hath  not  been  so  expert  a schoolmistress;  and  these 
politer  pleasures  are  entirely  the  productions  of  art  and  reason,  on  ouf 
side  of  the  globe. 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


iS3 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

The  author  relates  several  particulars  of  the  Yahoos.  The  great  virtues  of 
the  Houyhnhnms.  The  education  and  exercise  of  their  youth.  Their 
general  assembly. 

AS  I ought  to  have  understood  human  nature  much  better  than  I 
supposed  it  possible  for  my  master  to  do,  so  it  was  easy  to  apply 
the  character  he  gave  of  the  Yahoos  to  myself  and  my  countrymen,  and 
I believed  I could  #et  make  farther  discoveries  from  my  own  observa- 
tion. I therefore  often  begged  his  favour  to  let  me  go  among  the  herds 
of  Yahoos  in  the  neighbourhood,  to  which  he  always  very  graciously 
consented,  being  perfectly  convinced  that  the  hatred  I bore  those  brutes 
would  never  suffer  me  to  be  corrupted  by  them ; and  his  honour  ordered 
one  of  his  servants,  a strong  sorrel  nag,  very  honest  and  good-natured, 
to  be  my  guard,  without  whose  protection  I durst  not  undertake  such 
adventures.  For  I have  already  told  the  reader  how  much  I was  pes- 
tered by  those  odious  animals  upon  my  first  arrival.  And  I afterwards 
failed  very  narrowly  three  or  four  times  of  falling  into  their  clutches, 
when  I happened  to  stray  at  any  distance  without  my  hanger.  And  I 
have  reason  to  believe  they  had  some  imagination  that  I was  of  their 
own  species,  which  I often  assisted  myself,  by  stripping  up  my  sleeves, 
and  showing  my  naked  arms  and  breast  in  their  sight,  when  my  pro- 
tector was  with  me.  At  which  times  they  would  approach  as  near  as 
they  durst,  and  imitate  my  actions  after  the  manner  of  monkeys,  but 
ever  with  great  signs  of  hatred,  as  a tame  jackdaw  with  cap  and  stock- 
ings, is  always  persecuted  by  the  wild  ones,  when  he  happens  to  be  got 
among  them. 

They  are  prodigiously  nimble  from  their  infancy;  however,  I once 
caught  a young  male  of  three  years  old,  and  endeavoured  by  all  marks 
of  tenderness  to  make  jjf  quiet ; but  the  little  imp  fell  a squalling  and 
scratching  and  biting  with  such  violence,  that  I was  forced  to  let  it  go, 
and  it  was  high  time,  for  a whole  troop  of  old  ones  came  about  at  the 
noise  ; but  finding  the  cub  was  safe  (for  away  it  ran),  and  my  sorrel  nag 
being  by,  they  durst  not  venture  near  us.  I observed  the  young 
animal’s  flesh  to  smell  very  rank,  and  the  stink  was  somewhat  between 
a weasel  and  a fox,  but  much  more  disagreeable.  I forgot  another  cir- 
cumstance (and  perhaps  I might  have  the  reader’s  pardon,  if  it  were 
wholly  omitted),  that  while  I held  the  odious  vermin  in  my  hands,  it 
voided  its  filthy  excrements  of  a yellow  liquid  substance,  all  over  my 
clothes  ; but  by  good  fortune  there  was  a small  brook  hard  by,  where  I 
washed  myself  as  clean  as  I could,  although  I durst  not  come  into  my 
master’s  presence,  until  I wen*  sufficiently  aired. 

By  what  I could  discover,  the  Yahoos  appear  to  be  the  most  unteach- 
able  of  all  animals,  their  capacities  never  reaching  higher  than  to  draw 
or  carry  burthens.  Yet  I am  of  opinion  this  defect  ariseth  chiefly  irom 
a perverse,  restive  disposition.  For  they  are  cunning,  malicious,  trea- 
cherous and  revengeful.  They  are  strong  and  hardy,  but  of  a cowardly 
spirit,  and  by  consequence,  insolent,  abject,  and  cruel.  It  is  observed, 
that  the  red-haired  of  both  sexes  are  more  libidinous  and  mischievous 
than  the  rest,  whom  yet  they  much  exceed  in  strength  and  activity. 


A VOYAGE  TO  THE  HOUYHNHNM& 


*5* 

The  Houyhnlinms  keep  the  Yahoos  for  present  use  in  huts  not  far 
from  the  house ; but  the  rest  are  sent  abroad  in  certain  fields,  where 
they  dig  up  roots,  eat  several  kinds  of  herbs,  and  scratch  about  for 
carrion,  or  sometimes  catch  weasels  and  luhimuhs  (a  sort  of  wild  rat) 
which  they  greedily  devour.  Nature  hath  taught  them  to  dig  deep 
holes  with  their  nails  on  the  side  of  a rising  ground,  wherein  they  lie 
by  themselves,  only  the  kennels  of  the  females  are  larger,  sufficient  to 
hold  two  or  three  cubs. 

They  swim  from  their  infancy  like  frogs,  and  are  able  to  continue 
long  under  water,  where  they  often  take  fish,  which  the  females  carry 
home  to  their  young.  And  upon  this  occasion,  I hope  the  reader  will 
pardon  my  relating  an  odd  adventure. 

Being  one  day  abroad  with  my  protector  the  sorrel  nag,  and  the 
weather  exceeding  hot,  I entreated  him  to  let  me  bathe  in  a river  that 
was  near.  He  consented,  and  I immediately  stripped  myself  stark 
naked,  and  went  down  softly  into  the  stream.  It  happened  that  a 
young  female  Yahoo  standing  behind  a bank,  saw  the  whole  proceeding, 
and  inflamed  by  desire,  as  the  nag  and  I conjectured,  came  running 
with  all  speed,  and  leaped  into  the  water  within  five  yards  of  the  place 
where  I bathed.  I was  never  in  my  life  so  terribly  frighted ; the  nag 
was  grazing  at  some  distance,  not  suspecting  any  harm.  She  embraced 
me  after  a most  fulsome  manner  ; I roared  as  loud  as  I could,  and  the 
nag  came  galloping  towards  me,  whereupon  she  quitted  her  grasp,  with 
the  utmost  reluctancy,  and  leaped  upon  the  opposite  bank,  where  she 
stood  gazing  and  howling  all  the  time  I was  putting  on  my  clothes. 

This  was  matter  of  diversion  to  my  master  and  his  family,  as  well  as 
of  mortification  to  myself.  For  now  I could  no  longer  deny,  that  I was 
a real  Yahoo,  in  every  limb  and  feature,  since  the  females  had  a natural 
propensity  to  me  as  one  of  their  own  species  : neither  was  the  hair  of 
this  brute  of  a red  colour  (which  might  have  been  some  excuse  for  an 
appetite  a little  irregular),  but  black  as  a sloe,  and  her  countenance  did 
not  make  an  appearance  altogether  so  hideous  as  the  rest  of  the  kind ; 
for  I think  she  could  not  be  above  eleven  years  old. 

Having  lived  three  years  in  this  country,  the  reader,  I suppose,  will 
expect  that  I should,  like  other  travellers,  give  him  some  account  of  the 
manners  and  customs  of  its  inhabitants,  which  it  was  indeed  my  prin- 
cipal study  to  learn. 

As  these  noble  Houyhnhnms  are  endowed  by  Nature  with  a general 
disposition  to  all  virtues,  and  have  no  conceptions  or  ideas  of  what  is  evil 
in  a rational  creature,  so  their  grand  maxim  is,  to  cultivate  reason,  and 
to  be  wholly  governed  by  it.  Neither  is  reason  among  them  a point 
problematical  as  with  us,  where  men  can  argue  with  plausibility  on 
both  sides  of  a question  ; but  strikes  you  with  immediate  conviction, 
as  it  must  needs  do  where  it  is  not  mingled,  obscured,  or  discoloured 
by  passion  and  interest.  I remember  it  was  with  extreme  difficulty 
that  I could  bring  my  master  to  understand  the  meaning  of  the  word 
opinion,  or  how  a point  could  be  disputable  ; because  Reason  taught  ut 
to  affirm  or  deny  only  where  we  are  certain  ; and  beyond  our  know- 
ledge  we  cannot  do  either.  So  that  controversies,  wranglings,  disputes, 
and  positiveness  in  false  or  dubious  propositions,  are  evils  unknown 
among  the  Houyhnhnms  In  like  manner,  when  I used  to  explain  to 


x6o 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


him  our  several  systems  of  natural  philosophy,  he  would  laugh  that 
a creature  pretending  to  reason,  should  value  itself  upon  the  know- 
ledge of  other  people’s  conjectures,  and  in  things,  where  that  know- 
ledge, if  it  were  certain,  would  be  of  no  use.  Wherein  he  agreed 
entirely  with  the  sentiments  of  Socrates,  as  Plato  delivers  them  ; which 
I mention  as  the  highest  honour  I can  do  that  prince  of  philosophers. 

I have  often  since  reflected  what  destruction  such  a doctrine  would 
make  in  the  libraries  of  Europe,  and  how  many  paths  to  fame  would  be 
then  shut  up  in  the  learned  world. 

Friendship  and  benevolence  are  the  two  principal  virtues  among  the 
Houyhnhnms,  and  these  not  confined  to  particular  objects,  but  universal 
to  the  whole  race.  For  a stranger  from  the  remotest  part  is  equally 
treated  with  the  nearest  neighbour,  and  wherever  he  goes,  looks  upon 
himself  as  at  home.  They  preserve  decency  and  civility  in  the  highest 
degrees,  but  are  altogether  ignorant  of  ceremony.  They  have  no  fond- 
ness for  their  colts  or  foals,  but  the  care  they  take  in  educating  them 
proceeds  entirely  from  the  dictates  of  reason.  And  I observed  my 
master  to  show  the  same  affection  to  his  neighbour’s  issue  that  he  had 
for  his  own.  They  will  have  it  that  Nature  teaches  them  to  love  the 
whole  species,  and  it  is  reason  only  that  makes  a distinction  of  persons, 
where  there  is  a superior  degree  of  virtue. 

When  the  matron  Houyhnhnms  have  produced  one  of  each  sex,  they 
no  longer  accompany  with  their  consorts,  except  they  lose  one  of  their 
issue  by  some  casualty,  which  very  seldom  happens  : but  in  such  a case 
they  meet  again,  or  when  the  like  accident  befals  a person,  whose  wife 
is  past  bearing,  some  other  couple  bestow  on  him  one  of  their  own  , 
colts,  and  then  go  together  again  till  the  mother  is  pregnant.  This 
caution  is  necessary  to  prevent  the  country  from  being  overburthened 
with  numbers.  But  the  race  of  inferior  Houyhnhnms  bred  up  to  be 
servants  is  not  so  strictly  limited  upon  this  article  ; these  are  allowed 
to  produce  three  of  each  sex,  to  be  domestics  in  the  noble  families. 

In  their  marriages  they  are  exactly  careful  to  choose  such  colours  as 
will  not  make  any  disagreeable  mixture  in  the  breed.  Strength  is  chiefly 
valued  in  the  male,  and  comeliness  in  the  female,  not  upon  the  account 
of  love,  but  to  preserve  the  race  from  degenerating  ; for  where  a female 
happens  to  excel  in  strength,  a consort  is  chosen  with  regard  to  come- 
liness. Courtship,  love,  presents,  jointures,  settlements,  have  noplace 
in  their  thoughts  ; or  terms  whereby  to  express  them  in  their  language. 
The  young  couple  meet  and  are  joined,  merely  because  it  is  the  deter- 
mination of  their  parents  and  friends  : it  is  what  they  see  done  every 
day,  and  they  look  upon  it  as  one  of  the  necessary  actions  of  a rational 
being.  But  the  violation  of  marriage,  or  any  other  unchastity,  was 
never  heard  of ; and  the  married  pair  pass  their  lives  with  the  same 
friendship,  and  mutual  benevolence  that  they  bear  to  all  others  of  the 
same  species,  who  come  in  their  way  ; without  jealousy,  fondness, 
quarrelling,  or  discontent. 

In  educating  the  youth  of  both  sexes,  their  method  is  admirable,  and 
highly  deserves  our  imitation.  These  are  not  suffered  to  taste  a grain 
oi  oats,  except  upon  certain  days,  till  eighteen  years  old  ; nor  milk,  but 
very  rarely  ; and  in  summer  they  graze  two  hours  in  the  morning,  and 
as  long  in  the  evening,  which  their  parents  likewise  observe  : but  the  | 


A VOYAGE  TO  THE  HO U YHNHNMS, 


161 

servants  are  not  allowed  above  half  that  time,  and  a great  part  of  their 
grass  is  brought  home,  which  they  eat  at  the  most  convenient  hours, 
when  they  can  be  best  spared  from  work. 

Temperance,  industry,  exercise,  and  cleanliness,  are  the  lessons  equally 
enjoined  to  the  young  ones  of  both  sexes.  And  my  master  thought  it 
monstrous  in  us  to  give  the  females  a different  kind  of  education  from  the 
males,  except  in  some  articles  of  domestic  management ; whereby,  as 
he  truly  observed,  one  half  of  our  natives  were  good  for  nothing  but 
bringing  children  into  the  world  : and  to  trust  the  care  of  our  children 
to  such  useless  animals,  he  said,  was  yet  a greater  instance  of  brutalitv. 

But  the  Houyhnhnms  train  up  their  youth  to  strength,  speed  and 
hardiness,  by  exercising  them  in  running  races  up  and  down  steep  hills, 
and  over  hard  and  stony  grounds,  and  when  they  are  all  in  a sweat, 
they  are  ordered  to  leap  over  head  and  ears  into  a pond  or  a river. 
Four  times  a year  the  youth  of  a certain  district  meet  to  show  their 
proficiency  in  running,  and  leaping,  and  other  feats  of  strength  and 
agility,  where  the  victor  is  rewarded  with  a song  made  in  his  or  her 
praise.  On  this  festival  the  servants  drive  a herd  of  Yahoos  into  the 
field,  laden  with  hay,  and  oats,  and  milk  for  a repast  to  the  Houyhnhnms; 
after  which,  these  brutes  were  immediately  driven  back  again,  for  fear 
of  being  noisome  to  the  assembly. 

Every  fourth  year,  at  the  vernal  equinox,  there  is  a representative 
council  of  the  whole  nation,  which  meets  in  a plain  about  twenty  miles 
from  our  house,  and  continues  about  five  or  six  days.  Here  they  in- 
quire into  the  state  and  condition  of  the  several  districts,  whether  they 
abound  or  be  deficient  in  hay  or  oats,  or  cows  or  Yahoos  ? And  wherever 
there  is  any  want  (which  is  but  seldom)  it  is  immediately  supplied  by 
unanimous  consent  and  contribution.  Here  likewise  the  regulation  of 
Children  is  settled:  as,  for  instance,  if  a Houyhnhnm  hath  two  males, 
he  changeth  one  of  them  with  another  that  hath  two  females ; and 
when  a child  hath  been  lost  by  any  casualty,  where  the  mother  is 
past  breeding,  it  is  determined  what  family  shall  breed  another  to  sup- 
ply the  loss. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

A grand  debate  at  the  general  assembly  of  the  Houyhnhmns,  and  how  it  was 
determined.  The  learning  of  the  Houyhnhnms.  Their  buildings.  Their 
manner  of  burials.  The  defectiveness  of  their  language. 

ONE  of  these  grand  assemblies  was  held  in  my  time,  about  three 
months  before  my  departure,  whither  my  master  went  as  the  re- 
presentative of  our  district.  In  this  council  was  resumed  their  old  de- 
bate, and  indeed,  the  only  debate  that  ever  happened  in  that  country  ; 
whereof  my  master  after  his  return  gave  me  a very  particular  account. 

The  question  to  be  debated,  was,  whether  the  Yahoos  should  be  ex- 
terminated from  the  face  of  the  earth  ? One  of  the  members  for  the 
affirmative  offered  several  arguments  of  great  strength  and  weight, 
alleging,  that  as  the  Yahoos  were  the  most  filthy,  noisome, and  deformed 
animal  which  Nature  ever  produced,  so  they  were  the  most  restive  and 
indocible,  mischievous  and  malicious.  They  would  privately  suck  the 
teats  of  the  Houyhnhnms>  cows,  kill  and  devour  their  cats,  trample 

II 


1 62 


DEAN  SWIFT  S WORKS. 


down  their  oats  and  grass,  if  they  were  not  continually  watched,  and 
commit  a thousand  other  extravagancies.  He  took  notice  of  a general 
cradition,  that  Yahoos  had  not  been  always  in  that  country  ; but,  that 
many  ages  ago,  two  of  these  brutes  appeared  together  upon  a moun- 
tain ; whether  produced  by  the  heat  of  the  sun  upon  corrupted  mud  and 
slime,  or  from  the  ooze  or  froth  of  the  sea,  was  never  known.  That 
these  Yahoos  engendered,  and  their  brood  in  a short  time  grew  so 
numerous  as  to  overrun  and  infest  the  whole  nation.  That  the  Houy- 
hnhnms, to  get  rid  of  this  evil,  made  a general  hunting,  and  at  last  en- 
closed the  whole  herd,  and  destroying  the  old  ones,  every  Houyhnhnrn 
kept  two  young  ones  in  a kennel,  and  brought  them  to  such  a degree  of 
tameness,  as  an  animal  so  savage  by  nature  can  be  capable  of  ac- 
quiring ; using  them  for  draught  and  carriage.  That  there  seemed  to 
be  much  truth  in  this  tradition,  and  that  those  creatures  could  not  be 
Ylnhniamshy  (ori  aborigines  of  the  land)  because  of  the  violent  hatred 
the  Houyhnhnms,  as  well  as  all  other  animals,  bore  them;  which, 
although  their  evil  disposition  sufficiently  deserved,  could  never  have 
arrived  at  so  high  a degree,  if  they  had  been  aborigines,  or  else  they 
would  have  long  since  been  rooted  out.  That  the  inhabitants  taking  a 
fancy  to  use  the  service  of  the  Yahoos,  had  very  imprudently  neglected 
to  cultivate  the  breed  of  asses,  which  were  a comely  animal,  easily  kept, 
more  tame  and  orderly,  without  any  offensive  smell,  strong  enough  for 
labour,  although  they  yield  to  the  other  in  agility  of  body  ; and  if  their 
braying  be  no  agreeable  sound,  it  is  far  preferable  to  the  horrible  howl- 
ngs  of  the  Yahoos. 

Several  others  declared  their  sentiments  to  the  same  .purpose,  when 
my  master  proposed  an  expedient  to  the  assembly,  whereof  he  had 
indeed  borrowed  the  hint  from  me.  He  approved  of  the  tradition 
mentioned  by  the  honourable  member  who  spoke  before,  and  affirmed 
that  the  two  Yahoos  said  to  be  first  seen  among  them  had  been  driven 
thither  over  the  sea  ; that  coming  to  land,  and  being  forsaken  by  their 
companions,  they  retired  to  the  mountains,  and  degenerating  by 
degrees,  became,  in  process  of  time,  much  more  savage  than  those  of 
their  own  species  in  the  country  from  whence  these  two  originals  came. 
The  reason  of  his  assertion  was,  that  he  had  now  in  his  possession  a 
certain  wonderful  Yahoo  (meaning  myself),  which  most  of  them  had 
heard  of,  and  many  of  them  had  seen.  He  then  related  to  them  how 
he  first  found  me,  that  my  body  was  all  covered  with  an  artificial  com- 
posure of  the  skins  and  hairs  of  other  animals  : that  I had  a language 
of  my  own,  and  had  thoroughly  learned  theirs  : that  I had  related  to 
him  the  accidents  which  brought  me  thither : that  when  he  saw  me 
without  my  covering  I was  an  exact  Yahoo  in  every  part,  only  of  a 
whiter  colour,  less  hairy,  and  with  shorter  claws.  He  added,  how  I 
had  endeavoured  to  persuade  him  that  in  my  own  and  other  countries 
the  Yahoos  acted  as  the  governing,  rational  animal,  and  held  the 
Houyhnhnms  in  servitude  : that  he  observed  in  me  all  the  qualities  of 
a Yahoo,  only  a little  more  civilized  by  some  tincture  of  reason,  which, 
however,  was  in  a degree  as  far  inferior  to  the  Houyhnhnrn  race  as  the 
Yahoos  of  their  country  were  to  me  : that,  among  other  things,  I men- 
tioned a custom  we  had  of  castrating  Houyhnhnms  when  they  were 
y oung,  in  order  to  render  them  tame ; that  the  operation  was  easy  and 


A VOYAGE  TO  THE  HOUYHNHNMS. 


163 

safe ; that  it  was  no  shame  to  learn  wisdom  from  brutes,  as  industry 
is  taught  by  the  ant,  and  building  by  the  swallow  (for  so  I translate  the 
word  Lyhannh,  although  it  be  a much  larger  fowl).  That  this  inven- 
tion might  be  practised  upon  the  younger  Yahoos  here,  which,  besides 
rendering  them  tractable  and  fitter  for  use,  would  in  an  age  put  an  end 
to  the  whole  species  without  destroying  life.  That,  in  the  mean  time, 
the  Houyhnhnms  should  be  exhorted  to  cultivate  the  breed  of  asses, 
which,  as  they  are  in  all  respects  more  valuable  brutes,  so  they  have 
this  advantage,  to  be  fit  for  service  at  five  years  old,  which  the  others 
are  not  till  twelve. 

This  was  all  my  master  thought  fit  to  tell  me  at  that  time  of  what 
passed  in  the  grand  council.  But  he  was  pleased  to  conceal  one  par- 
ticular, which  related  personalty  to  myself,  whereof  I soon  felt  the 
unhappy  effect,  as  the  reader  will  know  in  its  proper  place,  and  from 
whence  I date  all  the  succeeding  misfortunes  of  my  life. 

The  Houyhnhnms  have  no  letters,  and  consequently,  their  know- 
ledge is  all  traditional.  But  there  happening  few  events  of  any  moment 
among  a people  so  well  united,  naturally  disposed  to  every  virtue, 
wholly  governed  by  reason,  and  cut  off  from  all  commerce  with  other 
nations,  the  historical  part  is  easily  preserved  without  burthening  their 
memory.  I have  already  observed  that  they  are  subject  to  no  diseases, 
and  therefore  can  have  no  need  of  physicians.  However,  they  have 
excellent  medicines  composed  of  herbs,  to  cure  accidental  bruises  and 
cuts  in  the  pastern  or  frog  of  the  foot  by  sharp  stones,  as  well  as  other 
maims  and  hurts  in  the  several  parts  of  the  body. 

They  calculate  the  year  by  the  revolution  of  the  sun  and  the  moon, 
but  use  no  subdivisions  into  weeks.  They  are  well  enough  acquainted 
with  the  motions  of  those  two  luminaries,  and  understand  the  nature  of 
eclipses  ; and  this  is  the  utmost  progress  of  their  astronomy. 

In  poetry  they  must  be  allowed  to  excel  all  other  mortals  ; wherein 
the  justness  of  their  similes,  and  the  minuteness,  as  well  as  exactness 
of  their  descriptions,  are  indeed  inimitable.  Their  verses  abound  very 
much  in  both  of  these,  and  usually  contain  either  some  exalted  notions 
of  friendship  and  benevolence,  or  the  praises  of  those  who  were  victors 
in  races,  and  other  bodily  exercises.  Their  buildings,  although  very 
rude  and  simple,  are  not  inconvenient,  but  well  contrived  to  defend 
them  froi^  all  injuries  of  cold  and  heat.  They  have  a kind  of  tree, 
which  arforty  years  old  loosens  in  the  root,  and  falls  with  the  first 
storm  ; they  grow  very  straight,  and  being  pointed  like  stakes  with  a 
sharp  stone  (for  the  Houyhnhnms  know  not  the  use  of  iron),  they  stick 
them  erect  in  the  ground  about  ten  inches  asunder,  and  then  weave  in 
oat-straw,  or  sometimes  wattles  betwixt  them.  The  roof  is  made  after 
the  same  manner,  and  so  are  the  doors. 

The  Houyhnhnms  use  the  hollow  part  between  the  pastern  and  the 
hoof  of  their  fore-feet,  as  we  do  our  hands,  and  this  with  greater  dex- 
terity than  I could  first  imagine.  I have  seen  a white  mare  of  our 
family  thread  a needle  (which  I lent  her  on  purpose)  with  that  joint. 
They  milk  their  cows,  reap  their  oats,  and  do  all  the  work  which  re- 
quires hands,  in  the  same  manner.  They  have  a kind  of  hard  flints, 
which  by  grinding  against  other  stones,  they  form  into  instruments, 
that  serve  instead  of  wedges,  axes,  and  hammers.  With  tools  made  of 

11 — 2 


164  DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS 

these  flints  they  likewise  cut  their  hay  and  reap  their  oats,  which  there 
groweth  naturally  in  several  fields  : the  Yahoos  draw  home  the  sheaves 
in  carriages,  and  the  servants  tread  them  in  several  covered  huts,  to 
get  out  the  grain,  which  is  kept  in  stores.  They  make  a rude  kind  of 
earthen  and  wooden  vessels,  and  bake  the  former  in  the  sun. 

If  they  can  avoid  casualties,  they  die  only  of  old  age,  and  are  buried 
in  the  obscurest  places  that  can  be  found,  their  friends  and  relations 
expressing  neither  joy  nor  grief  at  their  departure  : nor  does  the  dying 
person  discover  the  least  regret  that  he  is  leaving  the  world,  any  more 
than  if  he  were  upon  returning  home  from  a visit  to  one  of  his  neigh- 
bours ; I remember  my  master  having  once  made  an  appointment  with 
a friend  and  his  family  to  come  to  his  house  upon  some  affair  of  im- 
portance ; on  the  day  fixed,  the  mistress  and  her  two  children  came 
very  late  ; she  made  two  excuses,  first  for  her  husband,  who,  as  she 
said,  happened  that  very  morning  to  shnuwnh.  The  word  is  strongly 
expressive  in  their  language,  but  not  easily  rendered  into  English,  it 
signifies,  to  retire  to  his  first  mother.  Her  excuse  for  not  coming  sooner 
was,  that  her  husband  dying  late  in  the  morning,  she  was  a good  while 
consulting  her  servants  about  a convenient  place  where  his  body  should 
be  laid ; and  I observed  she  behaved  herself  at  our  house  as  cheerfully 
as  the  rest,  and  died  about  three  months  after. 

They  live  generally  to  seventy  or  seventy-five  years,  very  seldom  to 
fourscore  : some  weeks  before  their  death  they  feel  a gradual  decay, 
but  without  pain.  During  this  time  they  are  much  visited  by  their 
friends,  because  they  cannot  go  abroad  with  their  usual  ease  and  satis- 
faction. However,  about  ten  days  before  their  death,  which  they  seldom 
fail  in  computing,  they  return  the  visits  that  have  been  made  them  by 
those  who  are  nearest  in  the  neighbourhood,  being  carried  in  a con- 
venient sledge  drawn  by  Yahoos,  which  vehicle  they  use,  not  only  upon 
this  occasion,  but  when  they  grow  old  upon  long  journeys,  or  when 
they  are  lamed  by  any  accident.  And,  therefore,  when  the  dying 
Houyhnhnms  return  those  visits,  they  take  a solemn  leave  of  their 
friends,  as  if  they  were  going  to  some  remote  part  of  the  country,  where 
they  designed  to  pass  the  rest  of  their  lives. 

I know  not  whether  it  may  be  worth  observing,  that  the  Houyhn- 
hnms have  no  word  in  their  language  to  express  anything  that  is  evil, 
except  what  they  borrow  from  the  deformities  or  ill  qualities  of  the 
Yahoos.  Thus  they  denote  the  folly  of  a servant,  an  omission  of  a , 
child,  a stone  that  cut  their  feet,  a continuance  of  foul  or  unseasonable 
weather,  and  the  like,  by  adding  to  each  the  epithet  of  Yahoo,  for 
instance,  hhnm  Yahoo,  Whnaholm  Yahoo,  Ynlhmndwihlma  Yahoo,  and 
an  ill  contrived  house,  Ynholmhnmrohlnw  Yahoo. 

I could  with  great  pleasure  enlarge  farther  upon  the  manners  and 
virtues  ot  this  excellent  people  ; but  intending  in  a short  time  to  publish 
a volume  by  itself  expressly  upon  that  subject,  I refer  the  reader  thither. 
And  in  the  mean  time,  proceed  to  relate  my  own  sad  catastrophe. 


A VOYAGE  TO  THE  HO UYHNIINMS. 


l6j 


CHAPTER  X. 

The  author’s  economy  and  happy  life  among  the  Houyhnhnms.  His  great 
improvement  m virtue,  by  conversing  with  them.  Their  conversations.  The 
author  has  notice  given  him  by  his  master  that  he  must  depart  from  the 
country.  He  falls  into  a swoon  for  grief,  but  submits.  He  contrives  and 
finishes  a canoe,  by  the  help  of  a fellow-servant,  and  puts  to  sea  at  a venture. 

j HAD  settled  my  little  economy  to  my  own  heart’s  content.  My 
i master  had  ordered  a room  for  me  after  their  manner,  about  six 
yards  from  the  house,  the  sides  and  floors  of  which  I plastered  with 
clay,  and  covered  with  rush  mats  of  my  own  contriving  ; I had  beaten 
hemp  which  there  grows  wild,  and  made  of  it  a sort  of  ticking  : this 
I filled  with  the  feathers  of  several  birds  I had  taken  with  springes  made 
of  Yahoos  hairs,  and  were  excellent  food.  I had  worked  two  chairs 
with  my  knife,  the  sorrel  nag  helping  me  in  the  grosser  and  more 
laborious  part.  When  my  clothes  were  worn  to  rags  I made  myself 
others  with  the  skins  of  rabbits,  and  of  a certain  beautiful  animal  about 
the  same  size,  called  Nnuhnoh,  the  skin  of  which  is  covered  with  a fine 
down.  Of  these  I made  very  tolerable  stockings.  I soled  my  shoes 
with  wood,  which  I cut  from  a tree,  and  fitted  to  the  upper  leather,  and 
when  this  was  worn  out,  I supplied  it  with  the  skins  of  Yahoos  dried  in 
the  sun.  I often  got  honey  out  of  hollow  trees,  which  I mingled  with 
water,  or  eat  with  my  bread.  No  man  could  more  verify  thl  truth  of 
these  two  maxims,  that  Nature  is  very  easily  satisfied  ; and,  that  Neces- 
sity  is  the  mother  of  invention.  I enjoyed  perfect  health  of  body  and 
tranquillity  of  mind  ; I did  not  find  the  treachery  or  inconstancy  of  a 
friend  nor  the  injuries  of  a secret  or  open  enemy.  I had  no  occasion 
ot  bribing  flattering,  or  pimping,  to  procure  the  favour  of  any  great 
man  or  of  his  minion.  I wanted  no  fence  against  fraud  or  oppression  ; 
here  was  neither  physician  to  destroy  my  body,  nor  lawyer  to  ruin  my 
fortune  ; no  informer  to  watch  my  words  and  actions,  or  forge  accusa- 
tions against  me  for  hire  : here  were  no  gibers,  censurers,  backbiters, 
pick-pockets,  highwaymen,  house-breakers,  attorneys,  bawds,  buffoons, 
gamesters,  politicians,  wits,  splenetic  tedious  talkers,  controvertists, 
ravishers,  murderers,  robbers,  virtuosos,  no  leaders  or  followers  of 
party  and  faction  ; no  encouragers  to  vice,  by  seducement  or  examples  : 
no  dungeon,  axes,  gibbets,  whipping-posts,  or  pillories  : no  cheating 
shop-keepers  or  mechanics  : no  pride,  vanity  or  affectation  ; no  lops, 
bullies,  drunkards,  strolling  whores,  or  poxes  : no  ranting,  lewd,  ex- 
pensive wives  : no  stupid,  proud  pedants  : no  importunate,  over-bear- 
lng>.  quarrelsome,  noisy,  roaring,  empty,  conceited,  swearing  com- 
panions : no  scoundrels,  raised  from  the  dust  for  the  sake  of  their 
vices,  or  nobility  thrown  into  it  on  account  of  their  virtues  : no  lords, 
tiddlers,  judges,  or  dancing-masters. 

I had  the  favour  of  being  admitted  to  several  Houyhnhnms,  who 
came  to  visit  or  dme  with  my  master,  where  his  honour  graciously 
suhered  me  to  wait  in  the  room,  and  listen  to  their  discourse.  Both  he 
and  his  company  would  often  descend  to  ask  me  questions  and  receive 
my  answers.  I had  also  sometimes  the  honour  of  attending  my  master 
in  his  visits  to  others.  I never  presumed  to  speak,  except  in  answer  to 


\ 


166  DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 

a question,  and  then  I did  it  with  inwarcf  regret,  because  it  was  a loss 
of  so  much  time  for  improving  myself ; but  I was  infinitely  delighted, 
with  the  station  of  an  humble  auditor  in  such  conversations,  where  no- 
thing passed  but  what  was  useful,  expressed  in  the  fewest  and  most 
significant  words  : where  the  greatest  decency  was  observed,  without 
the  least  degree  of  ceremony  ; where  no  person  spoke  without  being 
pleased  himself,  and  pleasing  his  companions  ; where  there  was  no  in- 
terruption, tediousness,  heat,  or  difference  of  sentiments.  They  have 
a notion,  that  when  people  are  met  together,  a short  silence  doth  much 
improve  conversation.  This  I found  to  be  true,  for  during  those  little 
intermissions  of  talk,  new  ideas  would  arise  in  the  thoughts,  which  very 
much  enlivened  their  discourse.  Their  subjects  are  generally  on  friend- 
ship and  benevolence,  on  order  and  economy,  sometimes  upon  the 
visible  operations  of  Nature,  or  ancient  traditions  ; upon  the  bounds 
and  limits  of  virtue,  upon  the  unerring  rules  of  reason,  or  upon  some 
determinations,  to  be  taken  at  the  next  great  assembly  ; and  often  upon 
the  various  excellencies  of  poetry.  I may  add  without  vanity,  that  my 
presence  often  gave  them  sufficient  matter  for  discourse,  because  it 
afforded  my  master  an  occasion  of  letting  his  friends  into  the  history 
of  me  and  my  country,  upon  which  they  were  all  pleased  to  descant  in 
a manner  not  very  advantageous  to  human  kind  ; and  for  that  reason  I 
shall  not  repeat  what  they  said  : only  I may  be  allowed  to  observe, 
that  his  honour,  to  my  great  admiration,  appeared  to  understand  the 
nature  of  Yahoos  in  all  countries,  much  better  than  myself.  He  went 
through  all  our  vices  and  follies,  and  discovered  many  which  I had 
never  mentioned  to  him,  by  only  supposing  what  qualities  a Yahoo  of 
their  country,  with  a small  proportion  of  reason,  might  be  capable  of 
exerting  ; and  concluded,  with  too  much  probability,  how  vile  as  well 
as  miserable  such  a creature  must  be.  i 

I freely  confess,  that  all  the  little  knowledge  I have  of  any  value,  » 
was  acquired  by  the  lectures  I received  from  my  master,  and  from 
hearing  the  discourses  of  him  and  his  friends  ; to  which  I should  be 
prouder  to  listen,  than  to  dictate  to  the  greatest  and  wisest  assembly  in 
Europe.  I admired  the  strength,  comeliness,  and  speed  of  the  inhabi- 
tants ; and  such  a constellation  of  virtues  in  such  amiable  persons  pro- 
duced in  me  the  highest  veneration.  At  first,  indeed,  I did  not  feel 
that  natural  awe  which  the  Yahoos'and  all  other  animals  bear  towards 
them,  but  it  grew  upon  me  by  degrees — much  sooner  than  I imagined 
— and  was  mingled  with  a respectful  love  and  gratitude,  that  they 
would  condescend  to  distinguish  me  from  the  rest  of  my  species. 

When  I thought  of  my  family,  my  friends,  and  my  countrymen,  or 
human  race  in  general,  I considered  them  as  they  really  were — Yahoos 
in  shape  and  disposition— only  a little  civilized,  and  qualified  with  the 
gift  of  speech,  but  making  no  other  use  of  reason,  than  to  improve  and 
multiply  those  vices,  whereof  their  brethren  in  this  country  had  only 
the  share  that  Nature  allotted  them.  When  I happened  to  behold  the 
reflection  of  my  own  form  in  a lake  or  a fountain,  I turned  away  my  1 
face  in  horror  and  detestation  of  myself,  and  could  better  endure  the 
‘fight  of  a common  Yahoo,  than  of  my  own  person.  By  conversing  with 
the  Houyhnhnms,  and  looking  upon  them  with  delight,  I fell  to  imitate 
their  gait  and  gesture,  which  is  now  grown  into  an  habit,  and  my  friends 


A VOYAGE  TO  THE  HOUYHNHNMS. 


167 


often  tell  me,  in  a blunt  way,  that  I trot  like  a horse  ; which,  however, 
I take  for  a great  compliment.  Neither  shall  I disown,  that  in  speak- 
ing I am  apt  to  fall  into  the  voice  and  manner  of  the  Houyhnhnms, 
and  hear  myself  ridiculed  on  that  account  without  the  least  morti- 
fication. * 

In  the  midst  of  all  this  happiness,  and  when  I looked  upon  myself 
to  be  fully  settled  for  life,  my  master  sent  for  me  one  morning,  a little 
earlier  than  his  usual  hour.  I observed  by  his  countenance  that  he  was 
in  some  perplexity,  and  at  a loss  how  to  begin  what  he  had  to  speak. 
After  a short  silence,  he  told  me,  he  did  not  know  how  I would  take 
what  he  was  going  to  say  ; that  in  the  last  general  assembly,  when  the 
affair  of  the  Yahoos  was  entered  upon,  the  representatives  had  taken 
offence  at  his  keeping  a Yahoo  (meaning  myself)  in  his  family  more  like 
a Houyhnhnm,  than  a brute  animal.  That  he  was  known  frequently  to 
converse  with  me,  as  if  he  could  receive  some  advantage  or  pleasure 
in  my  company  ; that  such  a practice  was  not  agreeable  to  reason  or 
Nature,  nor  a thing  ever  heard  of  before  among  them.  The  assembly 
did  therefore  exhort  him,  either  to  employ  me  like  the  rest  of  my  species, 
or  command  me  to  swim  back  to  the  place  from  whence  I came.  That 
the  first  of  these  expedients  was  utterly  rejected  by  all  the  Houyhnhnms, 
who  had  ever  seen  me  at  his  house  or  their  own  ; for  they  alleged  that, 
because  I had  some  rudiments  of  reason,  added  to  the  natural  pravitv 
of  those  animals,  it  was  to  be  feared,  I might  be  able  to  seduce  them 
into  the  woody  and  mountainous  parts  of  the  country,  and  bring  them 
in  troops  by  night  to  destroy  the  Houyhnhnms7  cattle,  as  being  natur- 
ally of  the  ravenous  kind,  and  averse  from  labour. 

My  master  added,  that  he  was  daily  pressed  by  the  Houyhnhnms  of 
the  neighbourhood  to  have  the  assembly’s  exhortation  executed,  which 
he  could  not  put  off  much  longer.  He  doubted  it  would  be  impossible 
for  me  to  swim  to  another  country,  and  therefore  wished  I would  con- 
trive some  sort  of  vehicle  resembling  those  I had  described  to  him, 
that  might  carry  me  on  the  sea,  in  which  work  I should  have  the  assis- 
tance of  his  own  servants,  as  well  as  those  of  his  neighbours.  He 
concluded,  that  for  his  own  part  he  could  have  been  content  to  keep 
me  in  his  service  as  long  as  I lived,  because  he  found  I had  cured  my- 
self of  some  bad  habits  and  dispositions,  by  endeavouring,  as  far  as  my 
inferior  nature  was  capable,  to  imitate  the  Houyhnhnms. 

I should  here  observe  to  the  reader,  that  a decree  of  the  general  as- 
sembly in  this  country,  is  expressed  by  the  word  Hnhloayn,  which  sig- 
nifies an  exhortation,  as  near  as  I can  render  it ; for  they  have  no  con- 
ception how  a rational  creature  can  be  compelled,  but  only  advised,  or 
exhorted,  because  no  person  can  disobey  reason,  without  giving  up  his 
claim  to  be  a rational  creature. 

I was  struck  with  the  utmost  grief  and  despair  at  my  master’s  dis- 
course, and  being  unable  to  support  the  agonies  I was  under,  I fell  into 
a swoon  at  his  feet ; when  I came  to  myself,  he  told  me  that  he  con- 
cluded I had  been  dead.  (For  these  people  are  subject  to  no  such  im- 
becilities of  nature.)  I answered,  in  a faint  voice,  that  death  would 
have  been  too  great  an  happiness  ; that  although  I could  not  blame  the 
assembly7s  exhortation,  or  the  urgency  of  his  friends  , yet  in  my  weak 
§pd  corrupt  judgment,  I thought  it  might  consist  with  reaso:  to  haye 


1 63 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS . 


been  less  rigorous.  That  I could  not  swim  a league,  and  probably  the 
nearest  land  to  theirs  might  be  distant  above  an  hundred  ; that  many 
materials,  necessary  for  making  a small  vessel  to  carry  me  off,  were 
wholly  wanting  in  this  country,  which,  however,  I would  attempt  in 
obedience  and  gratitude  to  his  honour,  although  I concluded  the  thing 
to  be  impossible,  and  therefore  looked  on  myself  as  already  devoted  to 
destruction.  That  the  certain  prospect  of  unnatural  death,  was  the 
least  of  my  evils ; for,  supposing  I should  escape  with  life  by  some 
strange  adventure,  how  could  I think,  with  temper,  of  passing  my  days 
among  Yahoos,  and  relapsing  into  my  old  corruptions,  for  want  of  ex- 
amples to  lead  and  keep  me  within  the  paths  of  virtue.  That  I knew 
too  well  upon  what  solid  reasons  all  the  determinations  of  the  wise  Houy- 
hnhnms  were  founded,  not  to  be  shaken  by  arguments  of  mine,  a miser- 
able Yahoo,  and  therefore  after  presenting  him  with  my  humble  thanks 
for  the  offer  of  his  servant’s  assistance  in  making  a vessel,  and  desiringa 
reasonable  time  for  so  difficult  a work,  I told  him  I would  endeavour  to 
preserve  a wretched  being  ; and,  if  ever  I returned  to  England,  was  not 
without  hopes  of  being  useful  to  my  own  species,  by  celebrating  the 
praises  of  the  renowned  Houyhnhnms,  and  proposing  their  virtues  to 
the  imitation  of  mankind. 

My  master,  in  a few  words,  made  me  a very  gracious  reply,  allowed 
me  the  space  of  two  months  to  finish  my  boat ; and  ordered  the  sorrel 
nag,  my  fellow-servant,  (for  so  at  this  distance  I may  presume  to  call 
him),  to  follow  my  instructions,  because  I told  my  master  that  his  help 
would  be  sufficient,  and  I knew  he  had  a tenderness  for  me. 

In  his  company  my  first  business  was  to  go  to  that  part  of  the  coast, 
where  my  rebellious  crew  had  ordered  me  to  be  set  on  shore.  I got 
upon  a height,  and  looking  on  every  side  into  the  sea,  fancied  I saw  a 
small  island,  towards  the  north-east.  I took  out  my  pocket-glass,  and 
could  then  clearly  distinguish  it  about  five  leagues  off,  as  I computed  ; 
but  it  appeared  to  the  sorrel  nag  to  be  only  a blue  cloud  ; for,  as  he 
had  no  conception  of  any  country  besides  his  own,  so  he  could  not  be 
as  expert  in  distinguishing  remote  objects  at  sea,  as  we  who  so  much 
converse  in  that  element. 

After  I had  discovered  this  island,  I considered  no  farther ; but  re- 
solved, it  should,  if  possible,  be  the  first  place  of  my  banishment, 
leaving  the  consequence  to  fortune. 

I returned  home,  and  consulting  with  the  sorrel  nag,  we  went  into  a 
copse  at  some  distance,  where  I with  my  knife,  and  he  with  a sharp 
flint  fastened  very  artificially,  after  their  manner,  to  a wooden  handle, 
cut  down  several  oak  wattles  about  the  thickness  of  a walking-staff,  and 
some  larger  pieces.  But  I shall  not  trouble  the  reader  with  a particu- 
lar description  of  my  own  mechanics  ; let  it  suffice  to  say,  that  in  six 
weeks’  time,  with  the  help  of  the  sorrel  nag,  who  performed  the  parts 
that  required  most  labour,  I finished  a sort  of  Indian  canoe,  but  much 
larger,  covering  it  with  the  skins  of  Yahoos,  well  stitched  together  with 
hempen  threads  of  my  own  making.  My  sail  was  likewise  composed 
of  the  skins  of  the  same  animals  ; but  I made  use  of  the  youngest  I 
could  get,  the  older  being  too  tough  and  thick,  and  I likewise  proviced 
myself  with  four  paddles.  I laid  in  a stock  of  boiled  flesh  of  rabbits 
and  fowls,  and  took  with  me  two  vessels,  one  filled  with  milk,  and  the 
other  wkh  water. 


A VOYAGE  TO  THE  HOUYHNHYNMS. 


169 

I tried  my  canoe  in  a large  pond  near  my  masters  house,  and  then 
corrected  in  it  what  was  amiss  ; stopping  all  the  chinks  with  Yahoos'* 
tallow,  till  I found  it  staunch,  and  able  to  bear  me  and  my  freight 
And  when  it  was  as  complete  as  I could  possibly  make  it,  I had  it 
drawn  on  a carriage  very  gently  by  Yahoos  to  the  seaside,  under  the 
conduct  of  the  sorrel  nag  and  another  servant. 

When  all  was  ready,  and  the  day  come  for  my  departure,  I took 
leave  of  my  master  and  lady  and  the  whole  family,  mine  eyes  flowing 
with  tears,  and  my  heart  quite  sunk  with  grief.  But  his  honour,  out  of 
curiosity,  and  perhaps  (if  1 may  speak  it  without  vanity)  partly  out  of 
kindness,  was  determined  to  see  me  in  my  canoe,  and  got  several  of 
his  neighbouring  friends  to  accompany  him.  I was  forced  to  wait 
above  an  hour  for  the  tide,  and  then  observing  the  wind  very  fortu- 
nately bearing  towards  the  island,  to  which  I intended  to  steer  my 
course.  I took  a second  leave  of  my  master  : but  as  I was  going  to 
prostrate  myself  to  kiss  his  hoof,  he  did  me  the  honour  to  raise  it  gently 
to  my  mouth.  I am  not  ignorant  how  much  I have  been  censured  for 
mentioning  this  last  particular.  For  my  detractors  are  pleased  to 
think  it  improbable,  that  so  illustrious  a person  should  descend  to  give 
so  great  a mark  of  distinction  to  a creature  so  inferior  as  I.  Neither 
have  I forgot,  how  apt  some  travellers  are  to  boast  of  extraordinary 
favours  they  have  received.  But  if  these  censurers  were  better  ac- 
quainted with  the  noble  and  courteous  disposition  of  the  Houyhnhnms, 
they  would  soon  change  their  opinion. 

I paid  my  respects  to  the  rest  of  the  Houyhnhnms  in  his  honours 
company  ; then  getting  into  my  canoe,  I pushed  off  from  shore. 

CHAPTER  XI. 

The  author’s  dangerous  voyage.  He  arrives  at  New  Holland,  hoping  to  settle 
there.  Is  wounded  with  an  arrow  by  one  of  the  natives.  Is  seized  and 
carried  by  force  into  a Portuguese  ship.  The  great  civilities  of  the  captain. 
The  author  arrives  at  England. 

I BEGAN  this  desperate  voyage  on  February  15,  17 if,  at  nine 
o’clock  in  the  morning.  The  wind  was  very  favourable ; however, 
I made  use  at  first  only  of  my  paddles,  but  considering  I should  soon 
be  weary,  and  that  the  wind  might  chop  about,  I ventured  to  set  up 
my  little  sail : and  thus,  with  the  help  of  the  tide,  I went  at  the  rate 
of  a league  and  a half  an  hour,  as  near  as  I could  guess.  My  master 
and  his  friends  continued  on  the  shore  till  I was  almost  out  of  sight ; 
and  I often  heard  the  sorrel  nag  (who  always  loved  me)  crying  out, 
JInuy  ilia  nyha  majah  Yahoo , Take  care  of  thyself,  gentle  Yahoo. 

My  design  was,  if  possible,  to  discover  some  small  island  uninhabited, 
yet  sufficient  by  my  labour  to  furnish  me  with  the  necessities  of  life, 
which  I would  have  thought  a greater  happiness  than  to  be  first 
minister  in  the  politest  court  of  Europe  ; so  horrible  was  the  idea  I 
conceived  of  returning  to  live  in  the  society  and  under  the  government 
of  Yahoos.  For  in  such  a solitude  as  I desired,  I could  at  least  enjoy 
my  own  thoughts,  and  reflect  with  delight  on  the  virtues  of  those  inimi- 
table Houyhnhnms,  without  any  opportunity  of  degenerating  into  the 
vices  and  corruptions  of  my  own  species. 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


170 

The  reader  may  remember  what  I related  when  my  crew  conspired 
against  me,  and  confined  me  to  my  cabin.  How  I continued  there 
several  weeks,  without  knowing  what  course  we  took,  and  when  I was 
put  ashore  in  the  long-boat,  how  the  sailors  told  me  with  oaths,  whether 
true  or  false,  that  they  knew  not  in  what  part  of  the  world  we  were. 
However,  I did  then  believe  us  to  be  about  ten  degrees  southward  of 
the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  or  about  45  degrees  southern  latitude,  as  I 
gathered  from  some  general  words  1 overheard  among  them,  being,  I 
supposed,  to  the  south-east  in  their  intended  voyage  to  Madagascar. 
And  although  this  were  but  little  better  than  conjecture,  yet  I resolved 
to  steer  my  course  eastward,  hoping  to  reach  the  south-west  Coast  of 
New  Holland,  and,  perhaps,  some  such  island  as  I desired,  lying  west- 
ward of  it.  The  wind  was  full  west,  and  by  six  in  the  evening  I com- 
puted I had  gone  eastward  at  least  eighteen  leagues,  when  I spied  a 
very  small  island  about  half  a league  off,  which  I soon  reached.  It 
was  nothing  but  a rock  with  one  creek  naturally  arched  by  the  force 
of  tempests.  Here  I put  in  my  canoe,  and  climbing  up  a part  of  the 
rock,  I could  plainly  discover  land  to  the  east,  extending  from  south 
to  north.  I lay  all  night  in  my  canoe,  and  repeating  my  voyage  early 
in  the  morning,  I arrived  in  seven  hours  to  the  south-east  point  of 
New  Holland.  This  confirmed  me  in  the  opinion  I have  long  enter- 
tained, that  the  maps  and  charts  place  this  country  at  least  three  degrees 
more  to  the  east  than  it  really  is  ; which  thought  I communicated  many 
years  ago  to  my  worthy  friend  Mr.  Herman  Moll,  and  gave  him  my 
reasons  for  it,  although  he  hath  rather  chosen  to  follow  other  authors. 

I saw  no  inhabitants  in  the  place  where  I landed,  and  being  unarmed,  • 
I was  afraid  of  venturing  far  into  the  country.  I found  some  shell-fish 
on  the  shore,  and  eat  them  raw,  not  daring  to  kindle  a fire,  for  fear  of 
being  discovered  by  the  natives.  I continued  three  days  feeding  on  j 
oysters  and  limpets  to  save  my  own  provisions,  and  I fortunately  found 
a brook  of  excellent  water,  which  gave  me  great  relief. 

On  the  fourth  day,  venturing  out  early  a little  too  far,  I saw  twenty 
or  thirty  natives  upon  a height,  not  above  five  hundred  yards  from  me. 
They  were  stark  naked,  men,  women  and  children,  round  a fire,  as  I 
could  discover  by  the  smoke.  One  of  them  spied  me,  and  gave  notice 
to  the  rest ; five  of  them  advanced  towards  me,  leaving  the  women  and 
children  at  the  fire.  I made  what  haste  I could  to  the  shore,  and 
getting  into  my  canoe,  shoved  off : the  savages  observing  me  retreat 
ran  after  me  ; and  before  I could  get  far  enough  into  the  sea,  discharged 
an  arrow,  which  wounded  me  deeply  on  the  inside  of  my  left  knee.  (I 
shall  carry  the  mark  to  my  grave.)  I apprehended  the  arrow  might  be 
poisoned,  and  paddling  out  of  the  reach  of  their  darts  (being  a calm 
day)  I made  a shift  to  suck  the  wound,  and  dress  it  as  well  as  I could. 

I was  at  a loss  what  to  do,  for  I durst  not  return  to  the  same  landing- 
place,  but  stood  to  the  north,  and  was  forced  to  paddle  ; for  the  wind 
though  very  gentle  was  against  me,  blowing  north-west.  As  I was 
looking  about  for  a secure  landing-place,  I saw  a sail  to  the  north 
north-east,  which  appearing  every  minute  more  visible,  I was  in 
some  doubt,  whether  I should  wait  for  them  or  no,  but  at  last  my  de- 
testation of  the  Yahoo  race  prevailed,  and  turning  my  canoe,  I sailed 
and  paddled  together  to  the  south,  and  got  into  the  same  creek  Uom 


A VOYAGE  TO  THE  HOUYHNHNMS \ 


171 

whence  I set  out  in  the  morning,  choosing  rather  to  trust  myself  among 
these  barbarians,  than  live  with  European  Yahoos.  I drew  up  my 
canoe  as  close  as  i could  to  the  shore,  and  hid  myself  behind  a 
stone  by  a little  brook,  which,  as  I have  already  said,  was  excellent 
water. 

The  ship  came  within  half  a league  of  this  creek,  and  sent  out  her 
long-boat  with  vessels  to  take  in  fresh  water  (for  the  place  it  seems  was 
very  well  known),  but  I did  not  observe  it  till  the  boat  was  almost  on 
shore,  and  it  was  too  late  to  seek  another  hiding-place.  The  seamen 
at  their  landing  observed  my  canoe,  and  rummaging  it  all  over,  easily 
conjectured  that  the  owner  could  not  be  far  off.  Four  of  them,  well 
armed,  searched  every  cranny  and  lurking-hole,  till  at  last  they  found 
me  flat  on  my  face  behind  the  stone.  They  gazed  awhile  in  admira- 
tion at  my  strange  uncouth  dress,  my  coat  made  of  skins,  my  wooden- 
soled  shoes,  and  my  furred  stockings  ; from  whence,  however,  they 
concluded  I was  not  a native  of  the  place,  who  all  go  naked.  One  of 
the  seamen  in  Portuguese  bid  me  rise,  and  asked  who  I was.  I under- 
stood that  language,  very  well,  and  getting  upon  my  feet,  said,  I was 
a poor  Yahoo,  banished  from  the  Houyhnhnms,  and  desired  they  would 
please  to  let  me  depart.  They  admired  to  hear  me  answer  them  in 
their  own  tongue,  and  saw  by  my  complexion  I must  be  an  European  ; 
but  were  at  a loss  to  know  what  I meant  by  Yahoos  and  Houyhnhnms, 
and  at  the  same  time  fell  a laughing  at  my  strange  tone  in  speaking, 
which  resembled  the  neighing  of  a horse.  I trembled  all  the  while 
betwixt  fear  and  hatred  : I again  desired  leave  to  depart,  and  wuf 
gently  moving  to  my  canoe  ; but  they  laid  hold  on  me,  desiring  u 
know,  what  country  I was  of?  whence  I came?  with  many  other  ques- 
tions. I told  them  I was  born  in  England,  from  whence  I came  about 
five  years  ago,  and  then  their  country  and  ours  were  at  peace.  I thert 
fore  hoped  they  would  not  treat  me  as  an  enemy,  since  I meant  then 
no  harm,  but  was  a poor  Yahoo,  seeking  some  desolate  place  where  ic 
pass  the  remainder  of  his  unfortunate  life. 

When  they  began  to  talk,  I thought  I never  heard  or  saw  anything 
so  unnatural ; for  it  appeared  to  me  as  monstrous  as  if  a dog  or  a cow 
should  speak  in  England,  as  a Yahoo  in  Houyhnhnm-land.  The  honest 
Portuguese  were  equally  amazed  at  my  strange  dress  and  the  odd 
manner  of  delivering  my  words,  which,  however,  they  understood  very 
well.  They  spoke  to  me  with  great  humanity,  and  said  they  were  sure 
their  captain  would  carry  me  gratis  to  Lisbon,  from  whence  I might 
return  to  my  own  country ; that  two  of  the  seamen  vyould  go  back  to 
the  ship,  inform  the  captain  of  what  they  had  seen,  and  receive  his 
orders  ; in  the  mean  time,  unless  1 would  give  my  solemn  oath  not  to 
fly,  they  would  secure  me  by  fore  T thought  it  best  to  comply  wdth 

their  proposal.  They  were  very  jus  to  know  my  story,  but  I gave 

them  very  little  satisfaction  ; and  ti.ey  all  conjectured  that  my  misfor- 
tunes had  impaired  my  reason.  In  two  hours  the  boat,  which  went 
loaden  with  vessels  of  water,  returned  with  the  captain’s  commands  to 
fetch  me  on  board.  I fell  on  my  knees  to  preserve  my  liberty  : but  all 
was  in  vain,  and  the  men  having  tied  me  with  cords,  heaved  me  into 
the  boat,  from  whence  I was*  taken  into  the  ship,  and  Irom  thence  into 
Ihe  captain's  cabin. 


172 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


His  name  was  Pedro  de  Mendez,  he  was  a very  courteous  and  gene- 
rous person ; he  entreated  me  to  give  some  account  of  myself,  and 
desired  to  know  what  I would  eat  or  drink ; said  I should  be  used  as 
well  as  himself,  and  spoke  so  many  obliging  things,  that  I wondered  to 
find  such  civilities  from  a Yahoo.  However,  I remained  silent  and 
sullen ; I was  ready  to  faint  at  the  very  smell  of  him  and  his  men.  At 
last  I desired  something  to  eat  out  of  my  own  canoe  ; but  he  ordered 
me  a chicken  and  some  excellent  wine,  and  then  directed  that  I should 
be  put  to  bed  in  a very  clean  cabin.  I would  not  undress  myself,  but 
lay  on  the  bed-clothes,  and  in  half  an  hour  stole  out,  when  I thought 
the  crew  was  at  dinner,  and  getting  to  the  side  of  the  ship  was  gofng 
to  leap  into  the  sea,  and  swim  for  my  life,  rather  than  continue  among 
Yahoos.  But  one  of  the  seamen  prevented  me,  and  having  informed 
the  captain,  I was  chained  to  my  cabin. 

After  dinner  Don  Pedro  came  to  me,  and  desired  to  know  my  reason 
for  so  desperate  an  attempt ; assured  me  he  only  meant  to  do  me  all 
the  service  he  was  able,  and  spoke  so  very  movingly,  that  at  last  I 
descended  to  treat  him  like  an  animal  that  had  some  little  portion  of 
reason.  I gave  him  a very  short  relation  of  my  voyage,  of  the  con- 
spiracy against  me  by  my  own  men,  of  the  country  where  they  set  me 
on  shore,  and  of  my  three  years’  residence  there.  All  which  he  looked 
upon  as  if  it  were  a dream  or  a vision  ; whereat  I took  great  offence  ; 
for  I had  quite  forgot  the  faculty  of  lying,  so  peculiar  to  Yahoos  in  all 
countries  where  they  preside,  and  consequently  the  disposition  of  sus- 
pecting truth  in  others  of  their  own  species.  I asked  him,  whether  it 
were  the  custom  in  his  country  to  say  the  thing  that  was  not  ? I assured 
him  I had  almost  forgot  what  he  meant  by  falsehood,  and  if  I had  lived 
a thousand  years  in  Houyhnhnmland,  I should  never  have  heard  a lie 
from  the  meanest  servant ; that  I was  altogether  indifferent  whether  he 
believed  me  or  no ; but  however,  in  return  for  his  favours,  I would  give 
so  much  allowance  to  the  corruption  of  his  nature,  as  to  answer  any 
objection  he  would  please  to  make,  and  then  he  might  easily  discover 
the  truth. 

The  captain,  a wise  man,  after  many  endeavours  to  catch  me  tripping 
in  some  part  of  my  story,  at  last  began  to  have  a better  opinion  of  my 
veracity,  and  the  rather  because  he  confessed,  he  met  with  a Dutch 
skipper,  who  pretended  to  have  landed  with  five  others  of  his  crew  upon 
a certain  island  or  continent  south  of  New  Holland,  where  they  went 
for  fresh  water,  and  observed  a horse  driving  before  him  several  animals 
exactly  resembling  those  I described  under  the  name  of  Yahoos,  with 
some  other  particulars,  which  the  captain  said  he  had  forgot ; because 
he  then  concluded  them  all  to  be  lies.  But  he  added,  that  since  I pro- 
fessed so  inviolable  an  attachment  to  truth,  I must  give  him  my  word 
of  honour  to  bear  him  company  in  this  voyage  without  attempting  any- 
thing against  my  life,  or  else  he  would  continue  me  a prisoner  till  we 
arrived  at  "Lisbon.  I gave  him  the  promise  he  required  ; but  at  the 
same  time  protested  that  I would  suffer  the  greatest  hardships  rather 
than  return  to  live  among  Yahoos. 

Our  voyage  passed  without  any  considerable  accident.  In  gratitude 
to  the  captain  I sometimes  sat  with  him  at  his  earnest  request,  and 
strove  to  conceal  my  antipathy  to  human  kind,  altheughAt -often  broke 


A VOYAGE  TO  THE  HOUYHNHNMS. 


m 

out,  which  he  suffered  to  pass  without  observation.  But  the  greatest 
part  of  the  day  I confined  myself  to  my  cabin,  to  avoid  seeing  any  of 
the  crew.  The  captain  had  often  entreated  me  to  strip  myself  of  my 
savage  dress,  and  offered  to  lend  me  the  best  suit  of  clothes  he  had. 
This  I would  not  be  prevailed  on  to  accept,  abhorring  to  cover  myself 
with  anything  that  had  been  on  the  back  of  a Yahoo.  I only  desired 
he  would  lend  me  two  clean  shirts,  which  having  been  washed  since  he 
wore  them,  I believed  would  not  so  much  defile  me.  These  I changed 
every  second  day,  and  washed  them  myself. 

We  arrived  at  Lisbon  Nov.  5,  1715.  At  our  landing  the  captain 
farced  me  to  cover  myself  with  his  cloak,  to  prevent  the  rabble  from 
crowding  about  me.  I was  conveyed  to  his  own  house,  and  at  my 
earnest  request,  he  led  me  up  to  the  highest  room  backwards.  I con- 
jured him  to  conceal  from  all  persons  what  I had  told  him  of  the  Houy- 
hnhnms,  because  the  least  hint  of  such  a story  would  not  only  draw 
numbers  of  people  to  see  me,  but  probably  put  me  in  danger  ol  being 
imprisoned,  or  burnt  by  the  Inquisition.  The  captain  persuaded  me 
to  accept  a suit  of  clothes  newly  made,  but  I would  not  suffer  the  tailor 
to  take  my  measure ; however,  Don  Pedro  being  almost  of  my  size, 
they  fitted  me  well  enough.  He  accoutred  me  with  other  necessaries 
all  new,  w?hich  I aired  for  twenty-four  hours  before  I would  use  them. 

The  captain  had  no  wife,  nor  above  three  servants,  none  of  which 
were  suffered  to  attend  at  meals,  and  his  whole  deportment  was  so 
obliging,  added  to  very  good  human  understanding,  that  I really  began 
to  tolerate  his  company.  He  gained  so  far  upon  me,  that  I ventured 
to  look  out  of  the  back  window.  By  degrees  I was  brought  into 
another  room,  from  whence  I peeped  into  the  street,  but  drew  my  head 
back  in  a fright.  In  a week’s  time  he  seduced  me  down  to  the  door. 
I found  my  terror  gradually  lessened,  but  my  hatred  and  contempt 
seemed  to  increase.  I was  at  last  bold  enough  to  walk  the  street  in  his 
company,  but  kept  my  nose  well  stopped  with  rue,  or  sometimes  with 
tobacco. 

In  ten  days  Don  Pedro,  to  whom  I had  given  some  account  of  my 
domestic  affairs,  put  it  upon  me  as  a matter  of  honour  and  conscience, 
that  I ought  to  return  to  my  native  country,  and  live  at  home  with  my 
wife  and  children.  He  told  me,  there  was  an  English  ship  in  the  port 
just  ready  to  sail,  and  he  would  furnish  me  with  all  things  necessary. 
It  would  be  tedious  to  repeat  his  arguments,  and  my  contradictions. 
He  said  it  was  altogether  impossible  to  find  such  a solitary  island  as  I 
had  desired  to  live  in ; but  I might  command  in  my  own  house,  and 
pass  my  time  in  a manner  as  recluse  as  I pleased. 

I complied  at  last,  finding  I could  not  do  better.  I left  Lisbon  the 
24th  day  of  November,  in  an  English  merchantman,  but  who  was  the 
master  I never  inquired.  Don  Pedro  accompanied  me  to  the  ship,  and 
lent  me  twenty  pounds.  He  took  kind  leave  of  me,  and  embraced  me 
at  parting,  which  I bore  as  well  as  I could.  During  the  last  voyage  1 
had  no  commerce  with  the  master  or  any  of  his  men,  but  pretending  I 
was  sick  kept  close  in  my  cabin.  On  the  fifth  of  December,  1715,  vve 
cast  anchor  in  the  Downs  about  nine  m the  morning,  and  at  three  in 
the  afternoon  I got  saie  to  my  house  at  Rotherhithe. 

My  vife  and  family  received  me  with  great  surprise  and  joy,  because 


174 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS . 


they  concluded  me  certainly  dead ; but  I must  freely  confess,  the  sight 
of  them  filled  me  only  with  hatred,  disgust,  and  contempt,  and  the 
more  by  reflecting  on  the  near  alliance  I had  to  them.  For  although, 
since  my  unfortunate  exile  from  the  Houyhnhnm  country,  I had  com- 
pelled myself  to  tolerate  the  sight  of  Yahoos,  and  to  converse  with 
Don  Pedro  de  Mendez ; yet  my  memory  and  imaginations  were  per- 
petually filled  with  the  virtues  and  ideas  of  those  exalted  Houyhnhnms. 
And  when  I began  to  consider,  that  by  copulating  with  one  of  the 
Yahoo  species  I became  a parent  of  more,  it  struck  me  with  the  utmost 
shame,  confusion,  and  horror. 

As  soon  as  I entered  the  house,  my  wife  took  me  in  her  arms,  and 
kissed  me,  at  which,  having  not  been  used  to  the  touch  of  that  odious 
animal  for  so  many  years,  I fell  in  a swoon  for  almost  an  hour.  At 
the  time  I am  writing  it  is  five  years  since  my  last  return  to  England  : 
during  the  first  year  I could  not  endure  my  wife  or  children  in  my  pre- 
sence, the  very  smell  of  them  was  intolerable,  much  less  could  I suffer 
them  to  eat  in  the  same  room.  To  this  hour  they  dare  not  presume  to 
touch  my  bread,  or  drink  out  of  the  same  cup,  neither  was  I ever  able 
to  let  one  of  them  take  me  by  the  hand.  The  first  money  I laid  out 
was  to  buy  two  young  stone-horses  which  I keep  in  a good  stable,  and 
next  to  them  the  groom  is  my  greatest  favourite  ; for  I feel  my  spirits 
revived  by  the  smell  he  contracts  in  the  stable.  My  horses  understand 
me  tolerably  well ; I converse  with  them  at  least  lour  hours  every  day. 
They  are  strangers  to  bridle  or  saddle,  they  live  in  great  amity  with 
me,  and  friendship  to  each  other. 

I 

CHAPTER  XII. 

The  author’s  veracity.  His  design  in  publishing  this  work.  His  censure  of 
those  travellers  who  swerve  from  the  truth.  The  author  clears  himself  from 
any  sinister  ends  in  writing.  An  objection  answered.  The  method  of  plant- 
ing colonies.  His  native  country  commended.  The  right  of  the  crown  to 
those  countries  described  by  the  author  is  justified.  The  difficulty  of  con- 
quering them.  The  author  takes  his  last  leave  of  the  reader  : proposeth  his 
manner  of  living  for  the  future,  gives  good  advice,  and  concludes. 

THUS,  gentle  reader,  I have  given  thee  a faithful  history  of  my 
travels  for  sixteen  years  and  above  seven  months,  wherein  I 
have  not  been  so  studious  of  ornament  as  truth.  I could  perhaps  like 
others  have  astonished  thee  with  strange  improbable  tales  ; but  I rather 
chose  to  relate  plain  matter  of  fact  in  the  simplest  manner  and  style, 
because  my  principal  design  was  to  inform,  and  not  to  amuse  thee. 

It  is  easy  for  us  who  travel  into  remote  countries,  which  are  seldom 
visited  by  Englishmen  or  other  Europeans,  to  form  descriptions  of 
wonderful  animals  both  at  sea  and  land.  Whereas  a traveller’s  chief 
aim  should  be  to  make  men  wiser  and  better,  and  to  improve  their 
minds  by  the  bad  as  well  as  good  example  of  what  they  deliver  con- 
cerning foreign  places. 

I could  heartily  wish  a law  was  enacted,  that  every  traveller  before 
he  were  permitted  to  publish  his  voyages,  should  be  obliged  to  make 
oath  before  the  Lord  High  Chancellor  that  all  he  intended  to  print  was 
absolutely  true  to  the  best  of  his  knowledge  ; for  then  the  world  would 


A VOYAGE  TO  THE  HOUYHNHMNS. 


no  longer  be  deceived  as  it  usually  is,  while  some  writers,  to  make 
their  works  pass  the  better  upon  the  public,  impose  the  grossest  falsi- 
ties on  the  unwary  reader.  I have  perused  several  books  of  travels 
with  great  delight  in  my  younger  days  ; but  having  since  gone  over 
most  parts  of  the  globe,  and  been  able  to  contradict  many  fabulous 
accounts  from  my  own  observation,  it  hath  given  me  a great  disgust 
against  this  part  of  reading,  and  some  indignation  to  see  the  credulity 
of  mankind  so  impudently  abused.  Therefore,  since  my  acquaintance 
were  pleased  to  think  my  poor  endeavours  might  not  be  unacceptable 
to  my  country,  I imposed  on  myself  as  a maxim,  never  to  be  swerved 
from,  that  I would  strictly  adhere  to  truth  ; neither,  indeed,  can  I be 
ever  under  the  least  temptations  to  vary  from  it,  while  I retain  in  my 
mind  the  lectures  and  example  of  my  noble  master  and  the  other 
illustrious  Houyhnhnms,  of  whom  I had  so  long  the  honour  to  be  an 
humble  hearer. 

— — Nec  si  miserum  Fortuna  Sinonem 

Finxit,  vanum  etiam,  mendacemque  improba  fingeh 

I know  very  well  how  little  reputation  is  to  be  got  by  writings  which 
require  neither  genius  nor  learning,  nor,  indeed,  any  other  talent,  ex- 
cept a good  memory,  or  an  exact  Journal.  I know,  likewise,  the  writers 
of  travels,  like  dictionary-makers,  are  sunk  into  oblivion  by  the  weight 
and  bulk  of  those  who  come  after,  and  therefore  lie  uppermost.  And 
it  is  highly  probable,  that  such  travellers  who  shall  hereafter  visit  the 
countries  described  in  this  work  of  mine,  may,  by  detecting  my  errors 
(if  there  be  any),  and  adding  many  new  discoveries  of  their  own,  justle 
me  out  of  vogue,  and  stand  in  my  place,  making  the  world  forget  that 
I was  ever  an  author.  This  indeed  would  be  too  great  a mortification 
if  I wrote  for  fame  : but,  as  my  sole  intention  w^as  the  public  good,  I 
cannot  be  altogether  disappointed.  For  who  can  read  of  the  virtues  I 
have  mentioned  in  the  glorious  Houyhnhnms,  without  being  ashamed 
of  his  own  vices,  when  he  considers  himself  as  the  reasoning,  govern- 
ing animal  of  his  country  ? I shall  say  nothing  of  those  remote  nations 
where  Yahoos  preside,  amongst  which  the  least  corrupted  are  the  Brob- 
dingnagians,  whose  wise  maxims  in  morality  and  government  it  would 
be  our  happiness  to  observe.  But  I forbear  descanting  farther,  and 
rather  leave  the  judicious  reader  to  his  own  remarks  and  applications. 

I am  not  a little  pleased  that  this  w ork  of  mine  can  possibly  meet 
with  no  censurers  : for  what  objections  can  be  made  against  a writer 
who  relates  only  plain  facts  that  happened  in  such  distant  countries, 
where  we  have  not  the  least  interest  with  respect  either  to  trade  or 
negociations  ? I have  carefully  avoided  every  fault  with  which  common 
writers  of  travels  are  often  too  justly  charged.  Beside^,  I meddle  not 
with  any  party,  but  write  without  passion,  prejudice,  or  ill-will  against 
any  man  or  number  of  men  whatsoever.  I write  for  the  noblest  end, 
to  inform  and  instruct  mankind,  over  whom  I may,  without  breach  of 
modesty,  pretend  to  some  superiority  from  the  advantages  I received 
by  conversing  so  long  among  the  most  accomplished  Houyhnhnms.  I 
write  without  any  view  towards  profit  or  praise.  1 never  suffer  a word 
to  pass  that  may  look  like  reflection,  or  possibly  give  the  least  offence 
even  to  those  who  are  most  ready  to  take  it  So  that  I hope  I may 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS . 


t7$ 


with  justice  pronounce  myself  an  author  perfectly  blameless,  against 
whom  the  tribes  of  answerers,  considerers,  observers,  reflectors,  de- 
tectors, remarkers,  will  never  be  able  to  find  matter  for  exercising  their 
talents. 

I confess,  it  was  whispered  to  me,  that  I was  bound  in  duty  as  a 
subject  of  England,  to  have  given  in  a memorial  to  a secretary  of 
state  at  my  first  coming  over  ; because  whatever  lands  are  discovered 
by  a subject,  belong  to  the  crown.  But  I doubt  whether  our  conquests 
in  the  countries  I treat  of,  would  be  as  easy  as  those  of  Ferdinando 
Cortez  over  the  naked  Americans.  The  Lilliputians  I think  are  hardly 
worth  the  charge  of  a fleet  and  army  to  reduce  them,  and  I question 
whether  it  might  be  prudent  or  safe  to  attempt  the  Brobdingnagians. 
Or  whether  an  English  army  would  be  much  at  their  ease  with  the 
flying  island  over  their  heads.  The  Houyhnhnms,  indeed,  appear  not 
to  be  so  well  prepared  for  war,  a science  to  which  they  are  perfect 
strangers,  and  especially  against  missive  weapons.  However,  suppos- 
ing myself  to  be  a minister  of  state,  I could  never  give  my  advice  for 
invading  them.  Their  prudence,  unanimity,  unacquaintedness  with# 
fear,  and  their  love  of  their  country  would  amply  supply  all  defects  in 
the  military  art.  Imagine  twenty  thousand  of  them  breaking  into  the 
midst  of  an  European  army,  confounding  the  ranks,  overturning  the 
carriages,  battering  the  warriors'  faces  into  mummy  by  terrible  jerks 
from  their  hinder  hoofs.  For  they  would  well  deserve  the  character 
given  to  Augustus  ; recalcitrat  unclique  tutus.  But  instead  of  pro- 
posals for  conquering  that  magnanimous  nation,  I rather  wish  they 
were  in  a capacity  or  disposition  to  send  a sufficient  number  of  their 
inhabitants  for  civilizing  Europe,  by  teaching  us  the  first  principles  of 
honour,  justice,  truth,  temperance,  public  spirit,  fortitude,  chastity, 
friendship,  benevolence,  and  fidelity.  The  names  of  all  which  virtues 
are  still  retained  among  us  in  most  languages,  and  are  to  be  met  with 
in  some  modern  as  well  as  ancient  authors  ; which  I am  able  to  assert 
from  my  own  small  reading. 

But  I had  another  reason  which  made  me  less  forward  to  enlarge  his 
majesty's  dominions  by  my  discovery.  To  say  the  truth,  I had  con- 
ceived a few  scruples  with  relation  to  the  distributive  justice  of  princes 
upon  those  occasions.  For  instance,  a crew  of  pirates  are  driven  by  a 
storm  they  know  not  whither  ; at  length  a boy  discovers  land  from  the 
top-mast,  and  they  go  on  shore  to  rob  and  plunder  ; they  see  an  harm- 
less people,  are  entertained  with  kindness,  they  give  the  country  a 
new  name,  they  take  formal  possession  of  it  for  their  king,  they  set  up 
a rotten  plank  or  a stone  for  a memorial ; they  murder  two  or  three 
dozen  of  the  natives,  bring  away  a couple  more  by  force  for  a sample, 
return  home,  and  get  their  pardon.  Here  commences  a new  dominion, 
acquired  with  a title  by  divine  right  Ships  are  sent  with  the  first  op- 
portunity, the  natives  driven  out  or  destroyed,  their  princes  tortured  to 
discover  their  gold  ; a free  license  given  to  all  acts  of  inhumanity  and 
lust,  the  earth  reeking  with  the  blood  of  its  inhabitants.  And  this  ex- 
ecrable crew  of  butchers  employed  in  so  pious  an  expedition,  is  a 
modern  colony  sent  to  convert  and  civilize  an  idolatrous  and  barbarous 
people. 

But  this  description,  I confess,  doth  by  no  means  affect  the  British 


i 


t 

1 

I 


A VOYAGE  TO  THE  HOUYHNHNMS. 


177 


nation,  who  may  be  an  example  to  the  whole  world  for  their  wisdom, 
care,  and  justice  in  planting  colonies  ; their  liberal  endowments  for  the 
advancement  of  religion  and  learning  ; their  choice  of  devout  and  able 
pastors  to  propagate  Christianity  ; their  caution  in  stocking  their  pro- 
vinces with  people  of  sober  lives  and  conversations  from  this  the  mother 
kingdom  ; their  strict  regard  to  the  distribution  of  justice  in  supplying 
the  civil  administration  through  all  their  colonies  with  officers  of  the 
greatest  abilities,  utter  strangers  to  corruption  ; and,  to  crown  all,  by 
sending  the  most  vigilant  and  virtuous  governors,  who  have  no  other 
views  than  the  happiness  of  the  people  over  whom  they  preside,  and 
the  honour  of  the  king  their  master. 

But,  as  those  countries  which  I have  described,  do  not  appear  to  have 
a desire  of  being  conquered,  and  enslaved,  murdered  or  driven  out  by 
colonies,  nor  abound  either  in  gold,  silver,  sugar,  or  tobacco  ; I did 
humbly  conceive  they  were  by  no  means  proper  objects  of  our  zeal, 
our  valour,  or  our  interest.  However,  if  those  whom  it  may  concern, 
think  fit  to  be  of  another  opinion,  I am  ready  to  depose,  when  I shall 
be  lawfully  called,  that  no  European  did  ever  visit  these  countries  be- 
fore me.  J mean,  if  the  inhabitants  ought  to  be  believed ; unless  a 
dispute  may  arise  about  the  two  Yahoos,  said  to  have  been  seen  many 
ages  ago  on  a mountain  in  Houyhnhnmland,'from  whence  the  opinion  is 
that  the  race  of  those  brutes  hath  descended  ; and  these,  for  anything 
I know,  may  have  been  English,  which  indeed  I was  apt  to  suspect  from 
the  lineaments  of  their  posterity’s  countenances,  although  very  much 
defaced.  But,  how  far  that  will  go  to  make  out  a title,  I leave  to  the 
learned  in  colony-law. 

But  as  to  the  formality  of  taking  possession  in  my  sovereign’s  name, 
it  never  came  once  into  my  thoughts  ; and  if  it  had,  yet  as  my  affairs 
then  stood,  I should,  perhaps,  in  point  of  prudence  and  self-preserva- 
tion, have  put  it  off  to  a better  opportunity. 

Having  thus  answered  the  only  objection  that  can  ever  be  raised 
against  me  as  a traveller,  I here  take  a final  leave  of  all  my  courteous 
readers,  and  return,  to  enjoy  my  own  speculations,  in  my  little  garden 
at  Reddriff,  to  apply  those  excellent  lessons  of  virtue,  which  I learned 
among  the  Houyhnhnms,  to  instruct  the  Yahoos  of  my  own  family  as 
far  as  I shall  find  them  docible  animals,  to  behold  my  figure  often  in  a 
glass,  and  thus,  if  possible,  habituate  myself  by  time  to  tolerate  the 
sight  of  a human  creature  ; to  lament  the  brutality  of  Houyhnhnms  in 
my  own  country,  but  always  treat  their  persons  with  respect,  for  the  sake 
of  my  noble  master,  his  family,  his  fi  ends,  and  the  whole  Houyhnhnm 
race,  whom  these  of  ours  have  the  honour  to  resemble  in  all  their  linea- 
ments, however  their  intellectuals  came  to  degenerate. 

I began  last  week  to  permit  my  wife  to  sit  at  dinner  with  me,  at  the 
farthest  end  of  a long  table,  and  to  answer  (but  with  the  utmost  brevity) 
the  few  questions  I asked  her.  Yet  the  smell  of  a Yahoo  continuing 
very  offensive,  I always  keep  my  noce  well  stopped  with  rue,  lavender, 
or  tobacco  leaves.  And  although  it  be  hard  for  a man  late  in  life  to  re- 
move old  habits,  I am  not  altogether  out  of  hopes  in  some  time  to 
suffer  a neighbour  Yahoo  in  my  company  without  the  apprehensions  I 
am  yet  under  of  his  teeth  or  his  claws. 

My  econcilement  to  the  Yahoo-kind  in  general  might  not  be  so  diffi* 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


178 

cult  if  they  would  be  content  with  those  vices  and  follies  only,  which 
Natire  hath  entitled  them  to.  I am  not  in  the  least  provoked  at  the 
sight  of  a lawyer,  a pickpocket,  a colonel,  a fool,  a lord,  a gamester,  a 
politician,  a whore-master,  a physician,  an  evidence,  a suborner,  an 
attorney,  a traitor,  or  the  like  : this  is  all  according  to  the  due  course 
of  things  ; but  when  I behold  a lump  of  deformity,  and  diseases  both 
in  body  and  mind,  smitten  with  pride,  it  immediately  breaks  all  the 
measures  of  my  patience  ; neither  shall  I be  ever  able  to  comprehend 
how  such  an  animal  and  such  a vice  could  tally  together.  The  wise 
and  virtuous  Houyhnhnms,  who  abound  in  all  excellencies  that  can 
adorn  a rational  creature,  have  no  name  for  this  vice  in  their  language, 
which  hath  no  terms  to  express  anything  that  is  evil,  except  those 
whereby  they  describe  the  detestable  qualities  of  their  Yahoos,  among 
which  they  were  not  able  to  distinguish  this  of  pride,  for  want  of  tho- 
roughly understanding  human  nature,  as  it  sheweth  itself  in  other  coun- 
tries, where  that  animal  presides.  But  I,  who  had  more  experience, 
could  plainly  observe  some  rudiments  of  it  among  the  wild  Yahoos. 

But  the  Houyhnhnms,  wdio  live  under  the  government  of  reason,  are 
no  more  proud  of  the  good  qualities  they  possess,  than  I should  be  for 
not  wanting  a leg  or  an  arm,  which  no  man  in  his  wits  would  boast  of, 
although  he  must  be  miserable  without  them.  I dwell  the  longer  upon 
this  subject  from  the  desire  I have  to  make  the  society  of  an  English 
Yahoo  by  any  means  not  insupportable,  and  therefore  I here  entreat 
those  who  have  any  tincture  of  this  absurd  vice,  that  they  will  not  pre* 
same  to  come  in  my  sight* 


4 


A TALE  OF  A TUB. 

WRITTEN  FOR  THE 

UNIVERSAL  IMPROVEMENT  OF  MANKIND. 
Diu  multumque  desideratum. 


TO  WHICH  IS  ADDED, 

AN  ACCOUNT  OF  A BATTLE 

BETWEEN 

THE  ANCIENT  AND  MODERN  BOOKS 

IN  ST.  JAMES’S  LIBRARY 

Sasima  eacabasa  eanaa  irraurista,  diarba  da  caeotaba  fobor  camelanthi. 

Iren . Lib . L C, 

• Juvatque  novos  decerpere  flores, 

Insignemque  meo  capiti  petere  inde  coronam, 

Uflde  prius  nulli  velarunt  tempora  Musse. — Luirttii 


Treatises  writ  by  the  same  Authorf  most  of  them  mentioned  in  tht 
following  discourses ; which  will  be  speedily  published . 

A Character  of  the  Present  Set  of  Wits  in  this  Island., 
A Panegyrical  Essay  upon  the  Number  Three. 

A Dissertation  upon  the  Principal  Productions  of  Grui 
Street.  * 

Lectures  upon  a Dissection  of  Human  Nature. 

A Panegyric  upon  the  World. 

An  Analytical  Discourse  upom  Zeal,  Histori-theo-physi- 

LOGICALLY  CONSIDERED. 

A General  History  of  Ears. 

A modest  Defence  of  the  Proceedings  of  the  Rabble  in 
all  Ages. 

A Description  of  the  Kingdom  of  Absurdities. 

A Voyage  into  England,  by  a Person  of  Quality  in  Terra 
Australis  incognita,  translated  from  the  original. 

A Critical  Essay  upon  the  Art  of  Canting,  Philosophi- 
cally, physically,  and  Musically  considered. 


TO  THE  RIGHT  HONOURABLE 

JOHN  LORD  SOMMERS 


My  Lord, 

HOUGH  the  author  has  written  a large  dedication,  yet  that  being 


addressed  to  a prince,  whom  I am  never  likely  to  have  the 
honour  of  being  known  to  ; a person,  besides,  as  far  as  I can  observe, 
not  at  all  regarded,  or  thought  on  by  any  of  our  present  writers  ; and, 
I being  wholly  free  from  that  slavery,  which  booksellers  usually  lie 
under,  to  the  caprices  of  authors  ; I think  it  a wise  piece  of  presump- 
tion to  inscribe  these  papers  to  your  lordship,  and  to  implore  your 
lordship’s  protection  of  them.  God  and  your  lordship  know  their  faults 
and  their  merits  ; for  as  to  my  own  particular,  I am  altogether  a 
stranger  to  the  matter  ; and,  though  everybody  else  should  be  equally 
ignorant,  I do  not  fear  the  sale  of  the  book,  at  all  the  worse,  upon  that 
score.  Your  lordship’s  name  on  the  front,  in  capital  letters,  will  at  any 
time  get  off  one  edition  : neither  would  I desire  any  other  help,  to 
grow  an  alderman,  than  a patent  for  the  sole  privilege  of  dedicating  to 
your  lordship. 

I should  now,  in  right  of  a dedicator,  give  your  lordship  a list  of 
your  own  virtues,  and,  at  the  same  time,  be  very  unwilling  to  offend 
your  modesty  ; but,  chiefly,  I should  celebrate  your  liberality  towards 
men  of  great  parts  and  small  fortunes,  and  give  you  broad  hints,  that 
I mean  myself.  And  I was  just  going  on  in  the  usual  method,  to 
peruse  a hundred  or  two  of  dedications,  and  transcribe  an  abstract,  to 
be  applied  to  your  lordship  ; but  I was  diverted  by  a certain  accident. 
For,  upon  the  covers  of  these  papers,  I casually  observed  written  in 
large  letters,  the  two  following  words,  detur  dignissimo ; which,  for 
aught  I knew,  might  contain  some  important  meaning.  But,  it  un- 
luckily fell  out,  that  none  of  the  authors  I employ  understood  Latin 
(though  I have  them  often  in  pay  to  translate  out  of  that  language). 
I was  therefore  compelled  to  have  recourse  to  the  curate  of  our  parish, 
who  Englished  it  thus,  “ Let  it  be  given  to  the  worthiest and  his  com- 
ment was,  that  the  author  meant  his  work  should  be  dedicated  to  the 
sublimest  genius  of  the  age  for  wit,  learning,  judgment,  eloquence,  and 
wisdom.  I called  at  a poet’s  chamber  (who  works  for  my  shop)  in  an 
alley  hard  by,  showed  him  the  translation,  and  desired  his  opinion, 
who  it  was  that  the  author  could  mean  ; he  told  me,  after  some  con- 
sideration, that  vanity  was  a thing  he  abhorred  ; but  by  the  description, 
he  thought  himself  to  be  the  person  aimed  at ; and,  at  the  same  time, 
he  very  kindly  offered  his  own  assistance  gratis , towards  penning  a 
dedication  to  himself.  I desired  him,  however,  to  give  a second  guess; 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


1 8 2 

“ Why  then,”  said  he,  “ it  must  be  I,  or  my  Lord  Sommers.”  From  thence 
I went  to  several  other  wits  of  my  acquaintance,  with  no  small  hazard 
and  weariness  to  my  person,  from  a prodigious  number  of  dark,  wind- 
ing stairs  ; but  found  them  all  in  the  same  story,  both  of  your  lordship 
and  themselves.  Now,  your  lordship  is  to  understand,  that  this  pro- 
ceeding was  not  of  my  own  invention  ; for  I have  somewhere  heard  it 
is  a maxim,  that  those  to  whom  everybody  allows  the  second  place, 
have  an  undoubted  title  to  the  first. 

This  infallibly  convinced  me,  that  your  lordship  was  the  person  in- 
tended by  the  author.  But,  being  very  unacquainted  in  the  style  and 
form  of  dedications,  I employed  those  wits  aforesaid  to  furnish  me 
with  hints  and  materials  towards  a panegyric  upon  your  lordship’s 
virtues. 

In  two  days  they  brought  me  ten  sheets  of  paper,  filled  up  on  every 
side.  They  swore  to  me,  that  they  had  ransacked  whatever  could  be 
found  in  the  characters  of  Socrates,  Aristides,  Epaminondas,  Cato, 
Tully,  Atticus,  and  other  hard  names,  which  I cannot  now  recollect. 
However,  I have  reason  to  believe  they  imposed  upon  my  ignorance, 
because,  when  I came  to  read  over  their  collections,  there  was  not  a 
syllable  there  but  what  I and  everybody  else  knew  as  well  as  them- 
selves : therefore,  I grievously  suspect  a cheat ; and  that  these  authors 
of  mine  stole  and  transcribed  every  word  from  the  universal  report  of 
mankind.  So  that  I look  upon  myself  as  fifty  shillings  out  of  pocket, 
to  no  manner  of  purpose.  * 

If,  by  altering  the  title,  I could  make  the  same  materials  serve  for 
another  dedication  (as  my  betters  have  done)  it  would  help  to  make 
up  my  loss  : but  I have  made  several  persons  dip  here  and  there  in 
those  papers,  and  before  they  read  three  lines,  they  have  all  assured 
me,  plainly,  that  they  cannot  possibly  be  applied  to  any  person  besides  r 
your  lordship. 

I expected,  indeed,  to  have  heard  of  your  lordship’s  bravery  at  the 
head  of  an  army  ; of  your  undaunted  courage  in  mounting  a breach  or 
scaling  a wall ; or  to  have  had  your  pedigree  traced  in  a lineal  descent 
from  the  house  of  Austria  ; or  of  your  wonderful  talent  at  dress  and 
dancing ; or  your  profound  knowledge  in  algebra,  metaphysics,  and 
the  oriental  tongues  : but  to  ply  the  word  with  an  old  beaten  story  of 
your  wit,  and  eloquence,  and  learning,  and  wisdom,  and  justice,  and 
politeness,  and  candour,  and  evenness  of  temper  in  all  scenes  of  life  ; 

• of  that  great  discernment  in  discovering,  and  readiness  in  favouring 
deserving  men  ; with  forty  other  common  topics,  I confess  I have  1 
neither  conscience  nor  countenance  to  do  it.  Because  there  is  no 
virtue,  either  of  a public  or  private  life,  which  some  circumstances  of 
vour  own  have  not  often  produced  upon  the  stage  of  the  world  ; and 
U.ose  few,  which  for  want  of  occasions  to  exert  them,  might  otherwise 
have  passed  unseen  or  unobserved  by  your  friends,  your  enemies  have 
at  length  brought  to  light. 

Tis  true,  I should  be  very  loth  the  bright  example  of  your  lordship’s 
virtues  should  be  lost  to  after  ages,  both  for  their  sake  and  your  own  ; 
but  chiefly  because  they  will  be  so  very  necessary  to  adorn  the  history 
of  a late  reign  ; and  that  is  another  reason  why  I would  forbear  to  make 
a recital  of  them  here  ; because  I have  been  told  by  wise  men,  that  as 


A TALE  OF  A TUB.  1S3 

dedications  have  run  for  some  years  past,  a good  historian  will  not  be 
apt  to  have  recourse  thither  in  search  of  characters. 

There  is  one  point,  wherein  I think  Ve  dedicators  would  do  well  to 
change  our  measures  ; I mean,  instead  of  running  on  so  far  upon  the 
praise  of  our  patron’s  liberality,  to  spend  a word  or  two  in  admiring 
their  patience.  I can  put  no  greater  compliment  on  your  lordship’s, 
than  by  giving  you  so  ample  an  occasion  to  exercise  it  at  present. 
Though,  perhaps,  I shall  not  be  apt  to  reckon  much  merit  to  your 
lordship  upon  that  score,  who  having  been  formerly  used  to  tedious 
harangues,  and  sometimes,  to  as  little  purpose,  will  be  the  readier  to 
pardon  this,  especially  when  it  is  offered  by  one,  who  is  with  all  respect 
and  veneration, 

My  lord, 

Your  lordship’s  most  obedient  and  most  faithful  servant, 

THE  BOOKSELLER- 


THE  BOOKSELLER  TO  THE  READER. 

IT  is  now  six  years  since  these  Papers  came  first  to  my  hand,  which 
seems  to  have  been  about  a twelvemonth  after  they  were  writ : for 
the  author  tells  us  in  his  preface  to  the  first  treatise,  that  he  hath  calcu- 
lated it  for  the  year  1697,  and  in  several  passages  of  that  discourse,  as 
well  as  the  second,  it  appears  they  were  written  about  that  time. 

As  to  the  author,  I can  give  no  manner  of  satisfaction ; however,  I 
am  credibly  informed,  that  this  publication  is  without  his  knowledge ; 
for  he  concludes  the  copy  is  lost,  having  lent  it  to  a person,  since  dead, 
and  being  never  in  possession  of  it  after : so  that,  whether  the  work 
received  his  last  hand,  or,  whether  he  intended  to  fill  up  the  defective 
places,  is  like  to  remain  a secret. 

If  I should  go  about  to  tell  the  reader,  by  what  accident  I became 
master  of  these  papers,  it  would,  in  this  unbelieving  age,  pass  for  little 
more  than  the  cant,  or  jargon  of  the  trade.  I,  therefore,  gladly  spare 
both  him  and  myself  so  unnecessary  a trouble.  There  yet  remains  a 
difficult  question,  why  I published  them  no  sooner.  I forbore  upon 
two  accounts  : First  because  I thought  I had  better  work  upon  my 

hands  ; and  secondly,  because,  I was  not  without  some  hope  of  hearing 
from  the  author,  and  receiving  his  directions.  But,  I have  been  lately 
alarmed  with  intelligence  of  a surreptitious  copy,  which  a certain  great 
wit  had  new  polished  and  refined,  or  as  our  present  writers  express  them- 
selves, fitted  to  the  humour  of  the  age  ; as  they  have  already  done,  with 
great  felicity,  to  Don  Quixote,  Boccalini,  La  Bruy&re  and  other  authc 
However,  I thought  it  fairer  dealing,  to  offer  the  whole  work  in  its  na- 
turals. If  any  gentleman  will  please  to  furnish  me  with  a key,  in  order 
to  explain  the  more  difficult  parts,  I shall  very  gratefully  acknowledge 
the  favour,  and  print  it  by  itself* 


* 


I&» 


THE  EPISTLE  DEDICATORY , TO 

HIS  ROYAL  HIGHNESS  PRINCE  POSTERITY. 

Sir, 

I HERE  present  your  highness  with  the  fruits  of  a very  few  leisure 
hours,  stolen  from  the  short  intervals  of  a world  of  business,  and  of 
an  employment  quite  alien  from  such  amusements  as  this  : the  poor 
production  of  that  refuse  of  time  which  has  lain  heavy  upon  my  hands, 
during  a long  prorogation  of  parliament,  a great  dearth  of  foreign  news, 
and  a tedious  fit  of  rainy  weather  : for  which,  and  other  reasons,  it 
cannot  choose  extremely  to  deserve  such  a patronage  as  that  of  your 
highness,  whose  numberless  virtues  in  so  few  years  make  the  world 
look  upon  you  as  the  future  example  to  all  princes  :.for  although  your 
highness  is  hardly  got  clear  of  infancy,  yet  has  the  universal  learned 
world  already  resolved  upon  appealing  to  your  future  dictates  with  the 
lowest  and  most  resigned  submission  : Fate  having  decreed  you  sole 
arbiter  of  the  productions  of  human  wit,  in  this  polite  and  most  accom- 
plished age.  Methinks  the  number  of  appellants  were  enough  to  shock 
and  startle  any  judge  of  a genius  less  unlimited  than  yours  : but  in  order 
to  prevent  such  glorious  trials,  the  person  (it  seems)  to  whose  care  the 
education  of  your  highness  is  committed,  has  resolved  (as  I am  told)  to 
keep  you  in  almost  an  universal  ignorance  of  our  studies,  which  it  is 
your  inherent  birth-right  to  inspect. 

It  is  amazing  to  me,  that  this  person  should  have  assurance  in  the 
face  of  the  sun,  to  go  about  persuading  your  highness  that  our  age  is 
almost  wholly  illiterate,  and  has  hardly  produced  one  writer  upon  any 
subject.  I know  very  well,  that  when  your  highness  shall  come  to  riper 
years,  and  have  gone  through  the  learning  of  antiquity,  you  will  be  too 
curious  to  neglect  inquiring  into  the  authors  of  the  very  age  before  you; 
and  to  think  that  this  insolent,  in  the  account  he  is  preparing  for  your 
view,  designs  to  reduce  them  to  a number  so  insignificant  as  I am 
ashamed  to  mention  ; it  moves  my  zeal  and  my  spleen  for  the  honour 
and  interest  of  our  vast  flourishing  body,  as  well  as  of  myself,  for  whom 
I know  by  long  experience,  he  has  professed  and  still  continues  a pecu- 
liar malice. 

’Tis  not  unlikely,  that  when  your  highness  will  one  day  peruse  what  I 
am  now  writing,  you  may  be  ready  to  expostulate  with  your  governor 
upon  the  credit  of  what  I here  affirm,  and  command  him  to  shew  you 
some  of  our  productions.  To  which  he  will  answer,  (for  I am  well  in- 
formed of  his  designs)  by  asking  your  highness,  where  they  are  ? and 
what  is  become  of  them  ? and  pretend  it  a demonstration  that  there 
never  were  any,  because  they  are  not  then  to  be  found.  Not  to  be  found  ! 
Who  has  mislaid  them  ? are  they  sunk  in  the  abyss  of  things  ? ’tis  certain, 
that  in  their  own  nature  they  were  light  enough  to  swim  upon  the  sur*  j 
face  for  all  eternity  : therefore  the  fault  is  in  him,  who  tied  weights  so  I 
heavy  to  their  heels,  as  to  depress  them  to  the  centre.  Is  their  very 
essence  destroyed  ? who  has  annihilated  them  ? were  they  drowned  by  j; 
purges  or  martyred  by  pipes  ? who  administered  them  to  the  posteriors 
of . But  that  it  may  no  longer  be  a doubt  with  your  highness,  who 


DEDICATION  TO  PRINCE  POSTERITY.  185 

is  to  be  the  author  of  this  universal  ruin,  I beseech  you  to  observe 
that  large  and  terrible  scythe  which  your  governor  affects  to  bear  con- 
tinually about  him.  Be  pleased  to  remark  the  length  and  strength,  the 
sharpness  and  hardness  of  his  nails  and  teeth  : consider  his  baneful 
abominable  breath,  enemy  to  life  and  matter,  infectious  and  corrupting. 
And  then  reflect  whether  it  be  possible  for  any  mortal  ink  and  paper  of 
this  generation  to  make  a suitable  resistance.  Oh,  that  your  highness 
would  one  day  resolve  to  disarm  this  usurping  Maitre  de  Palais,  of 
his  furious  engines,  and  bring  your  empire  hors  dti  page. 

It  were  endless  to  recount  the  several  methods  of  tyranny  and  destruc- 
tion,which  your  governor  is  pleased  to  practise  upon  this  occasion. 
His  inveterate  malice  is  such  to  the  writings  of  our  age,  that  of  several 
thousands  produced  yearly  from  this  renowned  city,  before  the  next  re- 
volution of  the  sun,  there  is  not  one  to  be  heard  of  : unhappy  infants, 
many  of  them  barbarously  destroyed  before  they  have  so  much  as  learnt 
their  mother-tongue  to  beg  for  pity.  Some  he  stifles  in  their  cradles, 
others  he  frights  into  convulsions,  whereof  they  suddenly  die  ; some  he 
flays  alive,  others  he  tears  limb  from  limb.  Great  numbers  are  offered 
to  Moloch,  and  the  rest  tainted  by  his  breath,  die  of  a languishing  con- 
sumption. 

But  the  concern  I have  most  at  heart,  is  for  our  corporation  of  poets, . 
from  whom  I am  preparing  a petition  to  your  highness,  to  be  subscribed 
with  the  names  of  one  hundred  thirty-six  of  the  first  rate,  but  whose  im- 
mortal productions  are  never  likely  to  reach  your  eyes,  though  each  ot 
them  is  now  an  humble  and  an  earnest  appellant  for  the  laurel,  and  has 
large  comely  volumes  ready  to  show  for  a support^o  his  pretensions. 
The  never-dying  works  of  these  illustrious  persons^  your  governor,,  sir, 
has  devoted  to  unavoidable  death,  and  your  highness  is  to  be  mad'e*be- 
lieve,  that  our  age  has  never  arrived  at  the  honour  to  produce  one  single 
poet. 

We  confess  immortality  to  be  a great  and  powerful  goddess,  but  in 
vain  we  offer  up  to  her  our  devotions  and  our  sacrifices  if  your  highness’s 
governor,  who  has  usurped  the  priesthood,  must  by  an  unparalleled 
ambition  and  avarice,  wholly  intercept  and  devour  them. 

To  affirm  that  our  age  is  altogether  unlearned  and  devoid  of  writers 
in  any  kind,  seems  to  be  an  assertion  so  bold  and  so  false,  that  I have 
been  some  time  thinking  the  contrary  may  almost  be  proved  by  uncon- 
trollable demonstration.  ’Tis  true  indeed  that  although  their  numbers 
be  vast,  and  their  productions  numerous  in  proportion,  yet  are  they 
hurried  so  hastily  off  the  scene,  that  they  escape  our  memory,  and  de- 
lude our  sight.  When  I first  thought  of  this  address,  I had  prepared  a 
copious  list  of  titles  to  present  your  highness  as  an  undisputed  argu- 
ment for  what  I affirm.  The  originals  were  posted  fresh  upon  all  gates 
and  corners  of  streets  ; but  returning  in  a very  few  hours  to  take  a re- 
view, they  were  all  torn  down,  and  fresh  ones  in  their  places;  I inquired 
alter  them  among  readers  and  booksellers,  but  I inquired  in  vain,  the 
memorial  of  them  was  lost  among  men,  their  place  was  no  more  to  be 
found  ; and  I was  laughed  to  scorn,  for  a clown  and  a pedant  de- 
void of  all  taste  and  refinement,  little  versed  in  the  course  of  present  affairs 
and  that  knew  nothing  of  what  had  passed  in  the  best  companies  oi 
court  and  town.  So  that  I can  only  avow  in  general  to  your  highness. 


iS6 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


ft 


that  we  do  abound  in  learning  and  wit ; but  to  fix  upon  particulars  is  a 
task  too  slippery  for  my  slender  abilities.  If  I should  venture  in  a 
windy  day  to  affirm  to  your  highness  that  there  is  a large  cloud  near 
the  horizon  in  the  form  of  a bear,  another  in  the  zenith  with  the  head  of 
an  ass,  a third  to  the  westward  with  claws  like  a dragon  ; and  your 
highness  should  in  a few  minutes  think  fit  to  examine  the  truth,  it  is 
certain  they  would  be  all  changed  in  figure  and  position,  new  ones 
would  arise,  and  all  we  could  agree  upon  would  be  that  clouds  there 
were,  but  that  I was  grossly  mistaken  in  the  zoography  and  topography 
of  them. 

But  your  governor,  perhaps,  may  still  insist,  and  put  the  question  : 
What  is  then  become  of  those  immense  bales  of  paper,  which  must 
needs  have  been  employed  in  such  numbers  of  books  ? Can  these, 
also,  be  wholly  annihilate,  and  so  of  a sudden  as  I pretend  ? What 
shall  I say  in  return  of  so  invidious  an  objection?  It  ill  befits  the  dis- 
tance between  your  highness  and  me  to  send  you  for  ocular  conviction 
to  a jakes  or  an  oven  ; to  the  windows  of  a bawdy-house,  or  to  a sor- 
did lanthorn.  Books,  like  men  their  authors,  have  no  more  than  one 
way  of  coming  into  the  world,  but  there  are  ten  thousand  to  go  out  of 
it,  and  return  no  more. 

I profess  to  your  highness  in  the  integrity  of  my  heart  that  what  I am 
going  to  say  is  literally  true  this  minute  I am  writing.  What  revolu- 
tions may  happen  before  it  shall  be  ready  for  your  perusal  I can  by  no 
a A means  warrant ; however,  I beg  you  to  accept  it  as  a specimen  of  our 
g/fl"  learning,  our  politeness  and  our  wit.  1 do  therefore  affirm,  upon  the 
.word  of  a sincere  man,  that  there  is  now  actually  in  being  a certain 
poet  called  John  Dryden,  whose  translation  of  Virgil  was  lately  printed 
in  a large  folio,  well  bound,  and  if  diligent  search  were  made,  for  aught 
I know,  is  yet  to  be  seen.  There  is  another  called  Nahum  Tate,  who 
is  ready  to  make  oath  that  he  has  caused  many  reams  of  verse  to  be 
published,  whereof  both  himself  and  his  bookseller  (if  lawfully  required) 
can  still  produce  authentic  copies,  and  therefore  wonders  why  the  world 
is  pleased  to  make  such  a secret  of  it.  There  is  a third,  known  by  the 
name  of  Tom  Durfey,  a poet  of  a vast  comprehension,  an  universal 
genius,  and  most  profound  learning.  There  are  also  one  Mr.  Ryrner, 
and  one  Mr.  Dennis,  most  profound  critics.  There  is  a person  styled 
Dr.  B— tl— y,  who  has  written  near  a thousand  pages  of  immense  eru- 
dition, giving  a full  and  true  account  of  a certain  squabble  of  wonderful 
importance  betw  een  himself  and  a bookseller.  He  is  a writer  of  infinite 
wit  and  humour  ; no  man  rallies  with  a better  grace,  and  in  more 
sprightly  turns.  Farther,  I avow  to  your  highness  that  with  these  eyes 
I have  beheld  the  person  of  William  W-tt-n,  B.D.,  who  has  written  a 
good  sizeable  volume  against  a friend  of  your  governor  (from  whom, 
alas  ! he  must  therefore  look  for  little  favour)  in  a most  gentlemanly 
style,  adorned  with  utmost  politeness  and  civility replete  with  disco- 
veries equally  valuable  for  their  novelty  and  use  ; and  embellished  with 
traits  of  wit  so  poignant  and  so  apposite  that  he  is  a worthy  yoke-mate 
to  his  forementioned  friend. 

Why  should  I go  upon  farther  particulars,  which  might  fill  a volume 
with  the  just  eulogies  of  my  cotemporary  brethren  ? I shall  bequeath 
this  piece  of  justice  to  a larger  work,  wherein  I intend  to  write  a cha- 


A TALE  OF  A TUB. 


187 

racter  of  the  present  set  of  wits  in  our  nation  : their  persons  T shall  de^ 
scribe  particularly,  and  at  length  ; their  genius  and  understandings  in 
miniature. 

In  the  mean  time,  I do  here  make  bold  to  present  your  highness  with 
a faithful  abstract  drawn  from  the  universal  body  of  all  arts  and  sciences, 
intended  wholly  for  your  service  and  instruction  ; nor  do  I doubt  in  the 
least  but  your  highness  will  peruse  it  as  carefully,  and  make  as  con- 
siderable improvements  as  other  young  princes  have  already  done  by 
the  many  volumes  of  late  years  written  for  a help  to  their  studies. 

That  your  highness  may  advance  in  wisdom  and  virtue,  as  well  as  years 
and  at  last  outshine  all  your  royal  ancestors,  shall  be  the  daily  prayer  ol 

December^  1697.  Sir,  your  highness’s  most  devoted,  &c. 


THE  PREFACE. 

npHE  wit?  of  the  present  age  being  so  very  numerous  and  penetrating, 
X it  seems,  the  grandees  of  Church  and  State  begin  to  fall  under 
horrible  apprehensions  lest  these  gentlemen,  during  the  intervals  of  a 
long  peace,  should  find  leisure  to  pick  holes  in  the  weak  sides  of  religion 
and  government.  To  prevent  which  there  has  been  much  thought  em- 
ployed of  late  upon  certain  projects  for  taking  off  the  force  and  edge  of 
those  formidable  inquirers  from  canvassing  and  reasoning  upon  such 
delicate  points.  They  have  at  length  fixed  upon  one,  which  will  require 
some  time  as  well  as  cost  to  perfect.  Meanwhile,  the  danger  hourly 
increasing  by  new  levies  of  wits  all  appointed  (as  there  is  reason  to 
fear)  with  pen,  ink,  and  paper,  which  may  at  an  hour’s  warning  be 
drawn  out  into  pamphlets,  and  other  offensive  weapons,  ready  for  im- 
mediate execution,  it  was  judged  of  absolute  necessity  that  some  pre- 
sent expedient  be  thought  on  till  the  main  design  can  be  brought  to 
maturity.  To  this  end,  at  a grand  committee  some  days  ago,  this  im- 
portant discovery  was  made  by  a certain  curious  and  refined  observer ; 
that  seamen  have  a custom  when  they  meet  a whale  to  fling  him  out 
an  empty  tub  by  way  of  amusement,  to  divert  him  from  laying  violent 
hands  upon  the  ship.  This  parable  was  immediately  mythologized. 
The  whale  was  interpreted  to  be  Hobbes’s  Leviathan,  which  tosses  and 
plays  with  all  other  schemes  of  religion  and  government;  whereof  a 
great  many  are  hollow,  and  dry,  and  empty,  and  noisy,  and  wooden,  and 
given  to  rotation  ; this  is  the  Leviathan,  from  whence  the  terrible  wits 
of  our  age  are  said  to  borrow  their  weapons.  The  ship  in  danger  is 
easilyjinderstood  to  be  its  old  antitype  the  Commonwealth.  But  how 
to  analyze  the  tub  was  a matter  ol  difficulty,  when  after  long  inquiry  and 
debate  the  literal  meaning  was  preserved  ; and  it  was  decreed  that,  in 
order  to  prevent  these  Leviathans  from  tossing  and  sporting  with  the 
Commonwealth  (which  of  itself  is  too  apt  to  fluctuate)  they  should  be 
diverted  from  that  game  by  a Tale  of  a Tub.  And  my  genius  being 
conceived  to  lie  not  unhappily  that  way  I had  the  honour  done  me  to 
be  engaged  in  the  performance. 

This  is  the  sole  design  in  publishing  the  following  treatise,  which  I 
hope  will  serve  for  an  interim  of  some  months  to  employ  those  unquiet 


i88 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


spirits  till  the  perfecting  of  that  great  work,  into  the  secret  of  which  it 
is  reasonable  the  courteous  reader  should  have  some  little  light. 

# It  is  intended  that  a large  academy  be  erected,  capable  of  containing 
nine  thousand  seven  hundred  forty  and  three  persons;  which  by  modest 
computation  is  reckoned  to  be  pretty  near  the  current  number  of  wits 
in  this  island.  These  are  to  be  disposed  into  the  several  schools  of 
this  academy,  and  there  pursue  those  studies  to  which  their  genius 
most  inclines  them.  The  undertaker  himself  will  publish  his  proposals 
with  all  convenient  speed,  to  which  I shall  refer  the  curious  reader  for 
a more  particular  account,  mentioning  at  present  only  a few  of  the 
principal  schools.  There  is,  first,  a large  pederastick  school,  with 
French  and  Italian  masters.  There  is,  also,  the  spelling  school,  a very 
spacious  building  : the  school  of  looking-glasses;  the  school  of  swearing; 
the  school  of  critics  ; the  school  of  salivation  ; the  school  of  hobby- 
horses ; the  school  of  poetry  ; the  school  of  tops  ; the  school  of  spleen  ; 
the  school  of  gaming,  with  many  others  too  tedious  to  recount.  No 
person  to  be  admitted  member  into  any  of  these  schools  without  an 
attestation  under  two  sufficient  persons’  hands,  certifying  him  to  be  a 
wit. 

But,  to  return.  I am  sufficiently  instructed  in  the  principal  duty  of  a 
preface,  if  my  genius  were  capable  of  arriving  at  it.  Thrice  have  I 
forced  my  imagination  to  make  the  tour  of  my  invention,  and  thrice  it 
has  returned  empty  ; the  latter  having  been  wholly  drained  by  the  fol- 
lowing treatise.  Not  so  my  more  successful  brethren  the  moderns,  who 
will  by  no  means  let  slip  a preface  or  dedication  without  some  notable 
distinguishing  stroke  to  surprise  the  reader  at  the  entry,  and  kindle  a 
wonderful  expectation  bf  what  is  to  ensue.  Such  was  that  of  a most 
ingenious  poet,  who  soliciting  his  brain  for  something  new,  compared 
himself  to  the  hangman,  and  his  patron  to  the  patient.  This  was  ■ 
insigne,  recens , indictum  ore  alio*  When  I went  through  that  neces-  , 
sary  and  noblet  course  of  study,  I had  the  happiness  to  observe  many 
such  egregious  touches,  which  I shall  not  injure  the  authors  by  trans- 
planting, because  I have  remarked  that  nothing  is  so  very  tender  as  a 
modern  piece  of  wit,  and  which  is  apt  to  suffer  so  much  in  the  carriage. 
Some  things  are  extremely  witty  to  day,  or  fasting,  or  in  this  place,  or 
at  eight  o’clock,  or  over  a bottle,  or  spoke  by  Mr.  What  d’y’call’m,  or 
in  a summer’s  morning,  any  of  which  by  the  smallest  transposal  or  mis- 
application is  utterly  annihilate.  Thus,  Wit  has  its  walks  and  purlieux, 
out  of  which  it  may  not  stray  the  breadth  of  a hair  upon  peril  of  being 
lost.  The  moderns  have  artfully  fixed  this  Mercury,  and  reduced  it  to 
the  circumstances  of  time,  place,  and  person.  Such  a jest  there  is  that 
will  not  pass  out  of  Covent-Garden  ; and  such  a one  that  is  nowhere 
intelligible  but  at  Hyde-Park  Corner.  Now,  though  it  sometimes  ten- 
derly affects  me  to  consider  that  all  the  towardlv  passages  I shall  deliver 
in  the  following  treatise  will  grow  quite  out  of  date  and  relish  with  the 
first  shifting  of  the  present  scene,  yet  I must  need  subscribe  to  the 
justice  of  this  proceeding,  because  I cannot  imagine  why  we  should  be 
at  expense  to  furnish  wit  for  succeeding  ages  when  the  former  ha  e 
made  no  sort  of  provision  for  ours  : wherein  I speak  the  sentiment  u; 


• II  or. 


t Reading  prefaces,  &c. 


A TALE  OF  A TUB. 


189 

the  very  newest,  and  consequently  the  most  orthodox  refiners  as  well  as 
my  own.  However,  being  extremely  solicitous  that  every  accomplished 
person,  who  has  got  into  the  taste  of  wit,  calculated  for  this  present 
month  of  August,  1697,  should  descend  to  the  very  bottom  of  all  the 
sublime  throughout  this  treatise,  I hold  it  fit  to  lay  down  this  general 
maxim.  Whatever  reader  desires  to  have  a thorough  comprehension 
of  an  author’s  thoughts,  cannot  take  a better  method  than  by  putting 
himself  into  the  circumstances  and  posture  of  life  that  the  writer  was 
in  upon  every  important  passage  as  it  flowed  from  his  pen,  for  this  will 
introduce  a parity  and  strict  correspondence  of  ideas  between  the  reader 
and  the  author.  Now,  to  assist  the  diligent  reader  in  so  delicate  an 
affair  as  far  as  brevity  will  permit,  I have  recollected  that  the  shrewdest 
pieces  of  this  treatise  were  conceived  in  bed  in  a garret.  At  other 
times  (for  a reason  best  known  to  myself ) I thought  fit  to  sharpen  my 
invention  with  hunger  ; and  in  general  the  whole  work  was  begun,  con- 
tinued, and  ended  under  a long  course  of  physic,  and  a great  want  of 
money.  Now,  I do  affirm  it  will  be  absolutely  impossible  for  the  candid 
peruser  to  go  along  with  me  in  a great  many  bright  passages,  unless 
upon  the  several  difficulties  emergent  he  will  please  to  capacitate  and 
prepare  himself  by  these  directions.  And  this  I lay  down  as  my  prin- 
cipal postulatum. 

Because  I have  professed  to  be  a most  devoted  servant  of  all  modern 
forms,  I apprehend  some  curious  wit  may  object  against  me  for  pro- 
ceeding thus  far  in  a preface  without  declaiming,  according  to  the  cus- 
tom, against  the  multitude  of  writers,  whereof  the  whole  multitude  of 
writers  most  reasonably  complains.  I am  just  come  from  perusing 
some  hundreds  of  prefaces,  wherein  the  authors  do  at  the  very  begin- 
ning address  the  gentle  reader  concerning  this  enormous  grievance. 
Of  these  I have  preserved  a few  examples,  and  shall  set  them  down  as 
near  as  my  meffiory  has  been  able  to  retain  them  : 

One  begins  thus  : “ For  a man  to  set  up  for  a writer  when  the  press 
swarms  with,”  &c. 

Another : “ The  tax  upon  paper  does  not  lessen  the  number  of  scribblers 
who  daily  pester,”  &c. 

Another  : “ When  every  little  would-be-wit  takes  pen  in  hand,  ’tis  in 
vain  to  enter  the  lists,”  &c. 

Another  : “To  observe  what  trash  the  press  swarms  with,”  &c. 

Another  : “ Sir — It  is  merely  in  obedience  to  your  commands  that  I 
venture  into  the  public,  for  who  upon  a less  consideration  would  be  of 
a party  with  such  a rabble  of  scribblers,”  &c. 

Now  1 have  two  words  in  my  own  defence  against  this  objection. 
First,  I am  far  from  granting  the  number  of  writers  a nuisance  to  our 
nation,  having  strenuously  maintained  the  contrary  in  several  parts  ol 
the  following  discourse.  Secondly,  I do  not  well  understand  the  justice 
of  this  proceeding,  because  I observe  many  of  these  polite  prefaces  to 
be  not  only  from  the  same  hand,  but  from  those  who  are  most  volumin- 
ous in  their  several  productions.  Upon  which  I shall  tell  the  reader  a 
short  tale. 

A mountebank  in  Leicester-fields  had  drawn  a huge  assembly  about 
him.  Among  the  rest,  a fat,  unwieldly  fellow,  half  stifled  in  the  press, 
would  be  every  fit  crying  out,  Lord ! what  a filthy  crowd  is  here  I pra) , 


190 


DEAN*  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


good  people,  give  way  a little.  Bless  me  ! what  a devil  has  raked  this 
rabble  together.  Z ds,  what  squeezing  is  this  ! Honest  friend,  re- 

move your  elbow.  At  last  a weaver  that  stood  next  him  could  hold 
ho  longer  : A plague  confound  you  (said  he)  for  an  overgrown  sloven  ; 
and  who  (in  the  devil's  name)  I wonder,  helps  to  make  up  the  crowd 
half  so  much  as  yourself?  Don't  you  consider  (with  a pox)  that  you 
take  up  more  room  with  that  carcass  than  any  five  here  ? Is  not  the 
place  as  free  for  us  as  for  you  ? Bring  your  own  guts  to  a reasonable 

compass  (and  be  d n'd),  and  then  I'll  engage  we  shall  have  room 

enough  for  us  all. 

There  are  certain  common  privileges  of  a writer,  the  benefit  whereof 
I hope  there  will  be  no  reason  to  doubt  • particularly  that,  vriiere  I am 
not  understood,  it  shall  be  concluded  that  something  very  useful  and 
profound  is  couched  underneath.  And  again,  that  whatever  word  or 
sentence  is  printed  in  a different  character  shall  be  judged  to  contain 
something  extraordinary  either  of  wit  or  sublime. 

As  for  the  liberty  I have  thought  fit  to  take  of  praising  myself  upon 
some  occasions  or  none,  I am  sure  it  will  need  no  excuse  if  a multitude 
of  great  examples  be  allowed  sufficient  authority,  for  it  is  here  to  be 
noted  that  praise  was  originally  a pension  paid  by  the  world  ; but  the 
moderns  finding  the  trouble  and  charge  too  great  in  collecting  it,  have 
lately  bought  out  the  fee-simple,  since  which  time  the  right  of  presen- 
tation is  wholly  in  ourselves.  For  this  reason  it  is  that,  when  an  author 
makes  his  own  elogy,  he  uses  a certain  form  to  declare  and  insist  upon 
his  title,  which  is  commonly  in  these  or  the  like  words  : “ I speak  without 
vanity which  I think  plainly  shows  it  to  be  a matter  of  right  and 
justice.  Now,  I do  here  once  for  all  declare  that  in  every  encounter  of 
this  nature  through  the  following  treatise  the  form  aforesaid  is  implied, 
which  I mention,  to  save  the  trouble  of  repeating  it  on  so  many  occa-  ; 
sions. 

'Tis  a great  ease  to  my  conscience  that  I have  writ  so  elaborate 
and  useful  a discourse  without  one  grain  of  satire  intermixed,  which  is 
the  sole  point  wherein  I have  taken  leave  to  dissent  from  the  famous 
originals  of  our  age  and  country.  I have  observed  some  satirists  to 
use  the  public  much  at  the  rate  that  pedants  do  a naughty  boy  ready 
horsed  for  discipline  : first  expostulate  the  case,  then  plead  the  necessity 
of  the  rod,  from  great  provocations,  and  conclude  every  period  with  a 
lash.  Now,  if  I know  anything  of  mankind,  these  gentlemen  might 
very  well  spare  their  reproof  and  correction,  for  there  is  not  through  all 
nature  another  so  callous  and  insensible  a member  as  the  world's  pos- 
teriors, whether  you  apply  to  it  the  toe  or  the  birch.  Besides,  most  of 
our  late  satirists  seem  to  lie  under  a sort  of  mistake  that,  because  nettles 
have  the  prerogative  to  sting,  therefore  all  other  weeds  must  do  so  too. 

I make  not  this  comparison  out  of  the  least  design  to  detract  from 
these  worthy  writers,  for  it  is  well  known  among  mythologists  that  weeds 
have  the  pre-eminence  over  all  other  vegetables  ; and  therefore  the  first 
monarch  of  this  island,  whose  taste  and  judgment  were  so  acute  and 
refined,  did  very  wisely  root  out  the  roses  from  the  collar  of  the  order, 
and  plant  the  thistles  in  their  stead  as  the  nobler  flower  of  the  two. 
For  which  reason  it  is  conjectured  by  profounder  antiquaries  that  the 
satirical  itch,  so  prevalent  in  this  part  of  our  island,  was  first  brought 


A TALE  OF  A TUB. 


191 


Among’  us  from  beyond  the  Tweed.  Here  may  it  long  flourish  and 
abound  ; may  it  survive  and  neglect  the  scorn  of  the  world  with  as 
much  ease  and  contempt  as  the  world  is  insensible  to  the  lashes  of  it. 
May  their  own  dulness,  or  that  of  their  party,  be  no  discouragement  for 
the  authors  to  proceed  ; but  let  them  remember  it  is  with  wits  as  with 
razors,  which  are  never  so  apt  to  cut  those  they  are  employed  on  as 
when  they  have  lost  their  edge.  Besides,  those  whose  teeth  are  too 
rotten  to  bite  are  best  of  all  others  qualified  to  revenge  that  defect  with 
their  breath. 

I am  not  like  other  men,  to  envy  or  undervalue  the  talents  I cannot 
reach  ; for  which  reason  I must  needs  bear  a true  honour  to  this  large 
eminent  sect  of  our  British  writers.  And  I hope  this  little  panegyric 
will  not  be  offensive  to  their  ears,  since  it  has  the  advantage  of  being 
only  designed  for  themselves.  Indeed,  Nature  herself  has  taken  order 
that  fame  and  honour  should  be  purchased  at  a better  pennyworth  by 
satire  than  by  any  other  productions  of  the  brain  ; the  world  being 
soonest  provoked  to  praise  by  lashes  as  men  are  to  love.  There  is  a 
problem  in  an  ancient  author  why  dedications  and  other  bundles  of 
flattery  run  all  upon  stale,  musty  topics  without  the  smallest  tincture  of 
anything  new  ; not  only  to  the  torment  and  nauseating  of  the  Christian 
reader,  but  (if  not  suddenly  prevented)  to  the  universal  spreading  of  that 
pestilent  disease,  the  lethargy,  in  this  island,  whereas,  there  is  very 
little  satire  which  has  not  something  in  it  untouched  before.  The  de- 
fects of  the  former  are  usually  imputed  to  the  want  of  invention  among 
those  who  are  dealers  in  that  kind,  but  I think  with  a great  deal  of 
injustice,  the  solution  being  easy  and  natural.  For  the  materials  of 
panegyric  being  very  few  in  number,  have  been  long  since  exhausted, 
for  as  health  is  but  one  thing,  and  has  been  always  the  same,  whereas 
diseases  are  by  thousands,  besides  new*and  daily  additions,  so  all  the 
virtues  that  have  been  ever  in  mankind  are  to  be  counted  upon  a few 
fingers,  but  his  follies  and  vices  are  innumerable,  and  time  adds  hourly 
to  the  heap.  Now,  the  utmost  a poor  poet  can  do  is  to  get  by  heart  a list 
of  the  cardinal  virtues,  and  deal  them  with  his  utmost  liberality  to  his 
hero  or  his  patron.  He  may  ring  the  changes  as  far  as  it  will  go,  and 
vary  his  phrase  till  he  has  talked  round  ; but  the  reader  quickly  finds 
it  is  all  pork#,  with  a little  variety  of  sauce,  for  there  is  no  inventing 
terms  of  art  beyond  our  ideas  ; and  when  ideas  are  exhausted  terms  of 
art  must  be  so  too. 

But  though  the  matter  for  panegyric  were  as  fruitful  as  the  topics  of 
satire,  yet  would  it  not  be  hard  to  find  out  a sufficient  reason  why  the 
latter  will  be  always  better  received  than  the  first.  For  this  being  be- 
stowed only  upon  one  or  a/ew  persons  at  a time  is  sure  to  raise  envy, 
and  consequently  ill  words  from  the  rest,  who  have  no  share  in  the 
blessing;  but  satire  being  levelled  at  all  is  never  resented  for  an  offence 
by  any,  since  every  individual  person  makes  bold  to  understand  it  of 
others,  and  very  wisely  removes  his  particular  part  ot  the  buithen 
upon  the  shoulders  of  the  world,  which  are  broad  enough  and  able  to 
bear  it*  To  this  purpose  I have  sometimes  reflected  upon  the  difference 


Plutarch, 


193 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


between  Athens  and  England,  with  respect  to  the  point  before  us.  In 
the  Attic*  commonwealth,  it  was  the  privilege  and  birthright  of  every 
citizen  and  poet  to  rail  aloud  and  in  public,  or  to  expose  upon  the  stage 
by  name  any  person  they  please,  though  of  the  greatest  figure,  whether 
a Creon,  an  Hyperbolus,  an  Alcibiades,  or  a Demosthenes  ; but,  on  the 
other  side,  the  least  reflecting  word  let  fall  against  the  people  in  general, 
was  immediately  caught  up,  and  revenged  upon  the  authors,  however 
considerable  for  their  quality  or  their  merits.  Whereas  in  England  it 
is  just  the  reverse  of  all  this.  Here  you  may  securely  display  your 
utmost  rhetoric  against  mankind  in  the  face  of  the  world  ; tell  them, 
“ That  all  are  gone  astray  ; that  there  is  none  that  doeth  good,  no  not 
one  ; that  we  live  in  the  very  dregs  of  time  ; that  knavery  and  atheism 
are  epidemic  as  the  pox  ; that  honesty  is  fled  with  Astraea  ; with  any 
other  commonplaces  equally  new  and  eloquent,  which  are  furnished 
by  the  splendida  bilis.\  And  when  you  have  done,  the  whole  audience, 
far  from  being  offended,  shall  return  you  thanks  as  a deliverer  of  precious 
and  useful  truths.  Nay,  farther,  it  is  but  to  venture  your  lungs,  and  you 
may  preach  in  Covent-Garden  against  foppery  and  fornication,  and 
something  else ; against  pride,  and  dissimulation,  and  bribery  at  White- 
hall; you  may  expose  rapine  and  injustice  in  the  Inns  of  Court  Chapel; 
and  in  a city  pulpit  be  as  fierce  as  you  please  against  avarice,  hypocrisy, 
and  extortion.  *Tis  but  a ball  bandied  to  and  fro,  and  every  man 
carries  a racket  about  him  to  strike  it  from  himself  among  the  rest  of 
the  company.  But,  on  the  other  side,  whoever  should  mistake  the 
nature  of  things  so  far  as  to  drop  but  a single  hint  in  public ; how  such 
a one  starved  half  the  fleet,  and  half  poisoned  the  rest ; how  such  a 
one  from  a true  principle  of  love  and  honour  pays  no  debt  but  for 
wenches  and  play  ; how  such  a one  has  got  a clap,  and  runs  out  of  his 
estate  ; how  Paris,  bribed  by  Juno  and  Venus,  loath  to  offend  either 
party,  slept  out  the  whole  cause  on  the  bench ; or  how  such  an  orator 
makes  long  speeches  in  the  senate  with  much  thought,  little  sense,  and 
to  no  purpose.  Whoever,  I say,  should  venture  to  be  thus  particular 
must  expect  to  be  imprisoned  for  scandaluin  magnatum  j to  have 
challenges  sent  him ; to  be  sued  for  defamation ; and  to  be  brought 
before  the  bar  of  the  house. 

But  I forget  that  I am  expatiating  on  a subject  wdierein  I have  no 
concern,  having  neither  a talent  nor  an  inclination  for  satire.  On  the 
other  side,  I am  so  entirely  satisfied  with  the  whole  present  procedure  of 
human  things,  that  I have  been  for  some  years  preparing  materials 
towards  “ A Panegyric  upon  the  World  to  which  I intended  to  add  a 
second  part,  entitled,  “ A Modest  Defence  of  the  Proceedings  of  the 
Rabble  in  all  Ages.”  Both  these  I had  thoughts  to  publish  by  way  of 
appendix  to  the  following  treatise  ; but  finding  my  common-place  book 
fill  much  slower  than  I had  reason  to  expect,  I have  chosen  to  deter 
them  to  another  occasion.  Besides,  I have  been  unhappily  prevented 
in  that  design  by  a certain  domestic  misfortune,  in  the  particulars 
whereof,  though  it  would  be  very  seasonable,  and  much  in  the  modern 
way,  to  inform  the  gentle  reader,  and  would  also  be  of  great  assistance 
towards  extending  this  preface  into  the  size  now  in  vogue,  which  by  rule 


* Vid.  Xenoph. 


t Hor. 


A TALE  OF  A TUB. 


A TALE  OF  A TUB,  &c. 


SECT.  I.— THE  INTRODUCTION. 


HOEVER  hath  an  ambition  to  be  heard  in  a crowd  must  press. 


and  squeeze,  and  thrust,  and  climb  with  indefatigable  pains  till 
he  has  exalted  himself  to  a certain  degree  of  altitude  above  them. 
Now,  in  all  assemblies,  though  you  wedge  them  ever  so  close,  we  may 
observe  this  peculiar  property,  that,  over  their  heads  there  is  room 
enough  ; but  how  to  reach  it  is  the  difficult  point,  it  being  as  hard  to 
get  quit  of  number  as  of  hell : 


To  this  end,  the  philosopher's  way  in  all  ages  has  been  by  erecting 
certain  edifices  in  the  air  ; but  whatever  practice  and  reputation  these 
. kind  of  structures  have  formerly  possessed,  or  may  still  continue  in — 
not  excepting  even  that  of  Socrates,  when  he  was  suspended  in  a basket 
to  help  contemplation — I think,  with  due  submission,  they  seem  to 
labour  under  two  inconveniences.  First,  that  the  foundations  being 
laid  too  high,  they  have  been  often  out  of  sight,  and  ever  out  of  hearing. 
Secondly,  that  the  materials  being  very  transitory,  have  suffered  much 
from  inclemencies  of  air,  especially  in  these  north-west  regions. 

Therefore,  towards  the  just  performance  of  this  great  work,  there  re- 
main but  three  methods  that  I can  think  on,  whereof  the  wisdom  of  our 
ancestors  being  highly  sensible  has,  to  encourage  all  aspiring  adventurers, 
thought  fit  to  erect  three  wooden  machines  for  the  use  of  those  orators 
who  desire  to  talk  much  without  interruption.  These  are  the  pulpit, 
the  ladder,  and  the  stage  itinerant.  For,  as  to  the  bar,  though  it  be 
compounded  of  the  same  matter,  and  designed  for  the  same  use,  it 
cannot,  however,  be  well  allowed  the  honour  of  a fourth  by  reason  of  its 
level  or  inferior  situation,  exposing  it  to  perpetual  interruption  from 
collaterals.  Neither  can  the  bench  itself,  though  raised  to  a proper 
eminency,  put  in  a better  claim,  whatever  its  advocates  insist  on.  For 
if  they  please  to  look  into  the  original  design  of  its  erection,  and  the 
circumstances  or  adjuncts  subservient  to  that  design,  they  will  soon 
acknowledge  the  present  practice  exactly  correspondent  to  the  primitive 
institution,  and  both  to  answer  the  etymology  qf  the  name,  which  in  the 
Phoenician  tongue,  is  a word  of  great  signification,  importing,  if  literally 
interpreted,  the  place  of  sleep ; but,  in  common  acceptation,  a seat  well 
bolstered  and  cushioned  for  the  repose  of  old  and  gouty  limbs  : senes 
ut  in  otia  tuta  recedant . Fortune  being  indebted  to  them  this  part  of 
retaliation,  that,  as  formerly,  they  have  long  talked  whilst  others  slept,  so 
now  they  may  sleep  as  long  whilst  others  talk 

But  if  no  other  argument  could  occur  to  exclude  the  bench  and  tha 


Evadere  ad  auras, 

Hoc  opus,  hie  labor  est. 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


establish,  whatever  argument  it  might  cost  me,  in  imitation  of  that 
prudent  method  observed  by  many  other  philosophers  and  great  clerks, 
whose  chief  art  in  division  has  been  to  grow  fond  of  some  proper  mysti- 
cal number,  which  their  imaginations  have  rendered  sacred,  to  a degree 
that  they  force  common  reason  to  find  room  for  it  in  every  part  of 
nature ; reducing,  including,  and  adjusting  every  genus  and  species 
within  that  compass  by  coupling  some  against  their  wills,  and  banishing 
others  at  any  rate.  Now,  among  all  the  rest,  the  profound  number 
three  is  that  which  hath  most  employed  my  sublimest  speculations,  nor 
ever  without  wonderful  delight.  There  is  now  in  the  press  (and  will 
be  published  next  term)  a panegyrical  essay  of  mine  upon  this  number, 
vffterein  I have,  by  most  convincing  proofs,  not  only  reduced  the  senses 
and  the  elements  under  its  banner,  but  brought  over  several  deserters 
from  its  two  great  rivals  seven  and  nine. 

Now,  the  first  of  these  oratorial  machines  in  place  as  well  as  dignity, 
is  the  pulpit.  Of  pulpits  there  are  in  this  island  several  sorts  ; but  I 
esteem 'only -that  made  of  timber  from  the  Sylva  Caledonia,  which 
agrees  very  well  with  our  climate.  If  it  be  upon  its  decay,  ’tis  the 
better,  both  for  conveyance  of  sound,  and  for  other  reasons  to  be  men- 
tioned by-and-by.  The  degree  of  perfection  in  shape  and  size  I take 
to  consist  in  being  extremely  narrow,  with  little  ornament,  and  best 
of  all  without  a cover  (for  by  ancient  rule,  it  ought  to  be  the  only  un- 
covered vessel  in  every  assembly  where  it  is  rightfully  used)  by  which 
means,  from  its  near  resemblance  to  a pillory,  it  will  ever  have  a mighty 
influence  on  human  ears. 

Of  ladders  I need  say  nothing : *tis  observed  by  foreigners  them- 
selvesV  to'tEe  honour  of  our  country,  that  we  excel  all  nations  in  our 
practice  and  understanding  of  this  machine.  The  ascending  orators 
do  not  only  oblige  their  audience  in  the  agreeable  delivery,  but  the 
whole  world  in  their  early  publication  of  these  speeches  ; which  I look 
upon  as  the  choicest  treasury  of  our  British  eloquence,  and  whereof  I 
am  informed,  that  worthy  citizen  and  bookseller,  Mr.  John  Dunton, 
hath  made  a faithful  and  a painful  collection,  which  he  shortly  designs 
to  publish  in  twelve  volumes  in  folio,  illustrated  with  copper-plates. 
A work  highly  useful  and  curious,  and  altogether  worthy  of  such  a 
hand. 

The  last  engine  of  orators  is  the  stage-itinerant,  erected  with  much 
sagacity,  sub  Jove  ftluvio , in  triviis  et  quadriviis . It  is  the  great 
seminary  of  the  two  former,  and  its  orators  are  sometimes  preferred 
to  the  one,  and  sometimes  to  the  other,  in  proportion  to  their  de- 
servings, there  being  a strict  and  perpetual  intercourse  between  all 
three. 

From  this  accurate  deduction  it  is  manifest  that  for  obtaining  atten- 
tion in  public,  there  is  of  necessity  required  a superior  position  of  place. 
But,  although  this  point  be  generally  granted,  yet  the  cause  is  little 
agreed  in  ; and  it  seems  to  me  that  very  few  philosophers  have  fallen 
into  a true,  natural  solution  of  this  phenomenon.  The  deepest  account, 
and  the  most  fairly  digested,  of  any  I have  yet  met  with,  is  this,  that 
air  being  a heavy  body,  and.  therefore  (according  to  the  system  of 


A TALE  OP  A TUB. 


195 


Epicurus*)  continually  descending,  must  needs  be  more  so,  when  laden 
and  pressed  down  by  words  ; which  are  also  bodies  of  much  weight 
and  gravity,  as  it  is  manifest  from  those  deep  impressions  they  make 
and  leave  upon  us  ; and  therefore  must  be  delivered  from  a due  alti- 
tude, or  else  they  will  neither  carry  a good  aim,  nor  fall  down  with  a 
sufficient  force. 

Corpoream  quoque  enim  vocem  constare  fatendum  est, 

♦ Et  sonitum,  quoniam  possunt  impellere  sensus. — Lucr.  Lib.  4. 

And  I am  the  readier  to  favour  this  conjecture,  from  a common 
observation  ; that  in  the  several  assemblies  of  these  orators,  Nature 
itself  hath  instructed  the  hearers  to  stand  with  their  mouths  open,  and 
erected  parallel  to  the  horizon,  so  as  they  may  be  intersected  by  a per- 
pendicular line  from  the  zenith  to  the  centre  of  the  earth.  In  which 
position,  if  the  audience  be  well  compact,  every  one  carries  home  a 
share,  and  little  or  nothing  is  lost. 

I confess  there  is  something  yet  more  refined  in  the  contrivance  and 
structure  of  our  modern  theatres.  For,  first,  the  pit  is  sunk  below  the 
stage  with  due  regard  to  the  institution  above  deduced  ; that  whatever 
weighty  matter  shall  be  delivered  thence  (whether  it  be  lead  or  gold) 
may  fall  plum  into  the  jaws  of  certain  critics  (as  I think  they  are 
called),  which  stand  ready  open  to  devour  them.  Then  the  boxes  are 
built  round,  and  raised  to  a level  with  the  scene,  in  deference  to  the 
ladies,  because  that  large  portion  of  wit  laid  out  in  raising  pruriences 
and  protuberances,  is  observed  to  run  much  upon  a line,  and  ever  in 
a circle.  The  whining  passions,  and  little  starved  conceits,  are  gently 
wafted  up  by  their  own  extreme  levity,  to  the  middle  region,  and  there 
fix  and  are  frozen  by  the  frigid  understandings  of  the  inhabitants. 
Bombast  and  buffoonery,  by  nature  loftv  and  light,  soar  highest  of  all, 
and  would  be  lost  in  the  roof,  if  the  prudent  architect  had  not  with 
much  foresight  contrived  for  them  a fourth  place,  called  the  twelve- 
penny  gallery,  and  there  planted  a suitable  colony,  who  greedily  inter- 
cept them  in  their  passage. 

Now  this  physicological  scheme  of  oratorial  receptacles  or  machines, 
contains  a great  mystery,  being  a type,  a sign,  an  emblem,  a shadow, 
a symbol,  bearing  analogy  to  the  spacious  commonwealth  of  writers, 
and  to  those  methods  by  which  they  must  exalt  themselves  to  a certain 
eminency  above  the  inferior  world.  By  the  pulpit  are  adumbrated  the 
writings  of  our  modern  saints  in  Great  Britain,  as  they  have  spiritual- 
ised and  refined  them  from  the  dross  and  grossness  of  sense  and 
human  reason.  The  matter,  as  we  have  said,  is  of  rotten  wood,  and 
that  upon  two  considerations  ; because  it  is  the  quality  of  rotten  wood 
to  light  in  the  dark  : and  secondly,  because  its  cavities  are  full  of 
worms  : which  is  a type  with  a pair  of  handles,  having  a respect  to  the 
two  principal  qualifications  of  the  orator,  and  the  two  different  fates 
attending  upon  his  works. 

The  ladder  is  an  adequate  symbol  of  faction  and  of  poetry,  to  both 
of  which  so  noble  a number  of  authors  are  indebted  for  their  fam~. 
Of  taction  because  * * * * * * * 


* Lucr  el.  Lib.  2. 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


196 

* * • -#  * #**99 

##**#****m 

* * t Of  poetry,  because  its  orators  do  fierorare  with  a 
song  ; and  because  climbing  up  by  slow  degrees,  Fate  is  sure  to  turn 
them  off  before  they  can  reach  within  many  steps  of  the  top  : and 
because  it  is  a preferment  attained  by  transferring  of  propriety,  and  a 
confounding  of  meum  and  tuum. 

Under  the  stage-itinerant  are  couched  those  productions  designed 
for  the  pleasure  and  delight  of  mortal  man  ; such  as  “ Sixpenny  worth 
of  Wit,”  “Westminster  Drolleries,”  “ Delightful  Tales,”  “Complete 
Jesters,”  and  the  like  ; by  which  the  writers  of  and  for  Grub  Street 
have  in  these  later  ages  so  nobly  triumphed  over  time  ; clipped  his 
wings,  pared  his  nails,  filed  his  teeth,  turned  back  his  hour-glass, 
blunted  his  scythe,  and  drawn  the  hob-nails  out  of  his  shoes.  It  is 
under  this  classis,  I have  presumed  to  list  my  present  treatise,  being 
just  come  from  having  the  honour  conferred  upon  me,  to  be  adopted  a 
member  of  that  illustrious  fraternity. 

Now,  I am  not  unaware  how  the  productions  of  the  Grub  Street 
brotherhood  have  of  late  years  fallen  under  many  prejudices  ; nor  how 
it  has  been  the  perpetual  employment  of  two  junior  start-up  societies 
to  ridicule  them  and  their  authors,  as  unworthy  their  established  post 
in  the  commonwealth  of  wit  and  learning.  Their  own  consciences  will 
easily  inform  them  whom  I mean ; nor  has  the  world  been  so  negligent 
a looker  on,  as  not  to  observe  the  continual  efforts  made  by  the  socie- 
ties of  Gresham  and  of  Will’s,  to  edify  a name  and  reputation  upon  the 
ruin  of  ours.  And  this  is  yet  a more  feeling  grief  to  us  upon  the  regards 
of  tenderness  as  well  as  of  justice,  when  we  reflect  on  their  proceedings, 
not  only  as  unjust,  but  as  ungrateful,  undutiful,  and  unnatural.  For, 
how  can  it  be  forgot  by  the  world  or  themselves  (to  say  nothing  of  our 
own  records,  which  are  full  and  clear  in  the  point)  that  they  both  are 
seminaries,  not  only  of  our  planting,  but  our  watering  too  ? I am  in- 
formed, our  two  rivals  have  lately  made  an  offer  to  enter  into  the  lists 
with  united  forces,  and  challenge  us  to  a comparison  of  books,  both  as 
to  weight  and  number.  In  return  to  which  (with  licence  from  our 
president),  I humbly  offer  two  answers  : first,  we  say,  the  proposal  is 
like  that  which  Archimedes  made  upon  a smaller  affair,!  including  an 
impossibility  in  the  practice  ; for,  where  can  they  find  scales  of  capacity 
enough  for  the  first,  or  an  arithmetician  of  capacity  enough  for  the 
second.  Secondly,  we  are  ready  to  accept  the  challenge,  but  with  this 
condition,  that  a third  indifferent  person  be  assigned,  to  whose  im- 
partial judgment  it  shall  be  left  to  decide  which  society  each  book, 
treatise,  or  pamphlet  do  most  properly  belong  to.  This  point,  God 
knows,  is  very  far  from  being  fixed  at  present  ; for,  we  are  ready  to 
produce  a catalogue  of  some  thousands,  which  in  all  common  justice 
ought  to  be  entitled  to  our  fraternity,  but  by  the  revolted  and  new- 
fangled writers,  most  perfidiously  ascribed  to  the  others.  Upon  all 
which,  we  think  it  very  unbecoming  our  prudence,  that  the  determina- 
tion should  be  remitted  to  the  authors  themselves  ; when  our  adver- 

t Hiatus  in  MS. 

! Viz . About  moving  the  earth. 


A TALE  OF  A TUB . 


197 


saries  by  briguing  and  caballing,  have  caused  so  universal  a defection 
from  us,  that  the  greatest  part  of  our  society  hath  already  deserted  to 
them,  and  our  nearest  friends  begin  to  stand  aloof,  as  if  they  were  half 
ashamed  to  own  us. 

This  is  the  utmost  i am  authorised  to  say  upon  so  ungrateful  and 
melancholy  a subject ; because  we  are  extreme  unwilling  to  inflame 
a controversy,  whose  continuance  may  be  so  fatal  to  the  interests  of  us 
all,  desiring  much  rather  that  things  be  amicably  composed  ; and  we 
shall  so  far  advance  on  our  side,  as  to  be  ready  to  receive  the  two 
prodigals  with  open  arms,  whenever  tfiey  shall  think  tit  to  return  from 
their  husks  and  their  harlots  ; which  I think  from  the  present  course* 
of  their  studies  they  most  properly  may  be  said  to  be  engaged  in  ; and 
like  an  indulgent  parent,  continue  to  them  our  affection  and  our 
blessing. 

But  the  greatest  maim  given  to  that  general  reception,  which  the 
writings  of  our  society  have  formerly  received,  next  to  the  transitory 
state  of  all  sublunary  things,  hath  been  a superficial  vein  among  many 
readers  of  the  present  age,  who  will  by  no  means  be  persuaded  to  in- 
spect beyond  the  surface  and  the  rind  of  things  ; whereas,  wisdom  is  a 1 
fox,  who  after  long  hunting,  will  at  last  cost  you  the  pains  to  dig  out : 
*Tis  a cheese,  which  by  how  much  the  richer,  has  the  thicker,  the 
homelier,  and  the  coarser  coat ; and  whereof  to  a judicious  palate,  the 
maggots  are  the  best.  'Tis  a sack-posset,  wherein  the  deeper  you  go, 
you  will  find  it  the  sweeter.  Wisdom  is  a hen,  whose  cackling  we 
must  value  and  consider,  because  it  is  attended  with  an  egg  ; but  then, 
lastly,  kis  a nut,  which  unless  you  choose  with  judgment,  may  cost  you 
a tooth,  and  pay  you  with  nothing  but  a worm.  In  consequence  of 
these  momentous  truths,  the  Grubean  sages  have  always  chosen  to 
convey  their  precepts  and  their  arts,  shut  up  within  the  vehicles  of 
types  and  fables,  which  having  been  perhaps  more  careful  and  curious 
in  adorning  than  was  altogether  necessary,  it  has  fared  with  these 
vehicles  after  the  usual  fate  of  coaches  over-finely  painted  and  gilt  ; 
that  the  transitory  gazers  have  so  dazzled  their  eyes,  and  filled  their 
imaginations  with  the  outward  lustre,  as  neither  to  regard  or  consider, 
the  person  or  the  parts  of  the  owner  within.  A misfortune  we  undergo 
with  somewhat  less  reluctancy,  because  it  has  been  common  to  us  with 
Pythagoras,  JEsop,  Socrates,  and  other  of  our  predecessors. 

However,  that  neither  the  world  nor  ourselves  may  any  longer  suffer 
by  such  misunderstandings,  I have  been  prevailed  on,  after  much  im- 
portunity from  my  friends,  to  travel  in  a complete  and  laborious  disser- 
tation upon  the  prime  productions  of  our  society,  which  besides  their 
beautiful  externals  for  the  gratification  of  superficial  readers,  have 
darkly  and  deeply  couched  under  them,  the  most  finished  and  refined 
systems  of  all  sciences  and  arts ; as  I do  not  doubt  to  lay  open  by 
untwisting  or  unwinding,  and  either  to  draw  up  by  exantlation,  or  dis- 
play by  incision. 

This  great  work  was  entered  upon  some  years  ago,  by  one  of  our 
most  eminent  members  : he  began  with  the  “ History  of  Reynard  the 
Fox,”  but  neither  lived  to  publish  his  essay,  nor  to  proceed  farther  in 

* Virtuoso  experiments  and  modem  comedies. 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


198 

so  useful  an  attempt,  which  is  very  much  to  be  lamented,  because  the 
discovery  he  made,  and  communicated  with  his  friends,  is  now  univer- 
sally received  ; nor,  do  I think,  any  of  the  learned  will  dispute,  that 
famous  treatise  to  be  a complete  body  of  civil  knowledge,  and  the 
Revelation,  or  rather  the  Apocalypse  of  all  State  Arcana.  But  the 
progress  I have  made  is  much  greater,  having  already  finished  my 
annotations  upon  several  dozens  ; from  some  of  which  I shall  impart 
a few  hints  to  the  candid  reader,  as  far  as  will  be  necessary  to  the 
conclusion  at  which  I aim. 

The  first  piece  I have  handled  i3  that  of  " Tom  Thumb,”  whose  author 
was  a Pythagorean' philosopher.  This  dark  treatise  Contains  the  whole 
scheme  of  the  Metempsychosis,  deducing  the  progress  of  the  soul 
through  all  her  stages. 

The  next  is  “ Dr.  Faustus,”  penned  by  Artephius,  an  author  bojice 
notes , and  an  adeptus  ; he  published  it  in  the  nine  hundred  and  eighty- 
fourth*  year  of  his  age  ; this  writer  proceeds  wholly  by  reincrudation, 
or  in  the  viaJiumida:  and  the  marriage  between  Faustus  and  Helen 
does  most  conspicuously  dilucidate  the  fermenting  of  the  male  and 
female  dragon. 

“ Whittington  and  his  Cat  ” is  the  work  of  that  mysterious  Rabbi, 
Jehuda  Hannasi,  containing  a defence  of  the  Gemara  of  the  Jerusalem 
Misna,  and  its  just  preference  to  that  of  Babylon,  contrary  to  the  vulgar 
opinion. 

“ The  Hind  and  Panther.”  This  is  the  masterpiece  ot  a famous 
writer  now  living, t intended  for  a complete  abstract  of  sixteen  thousand 
schoolmen  from  Scotus  to  Bellarmin. 

(i  Tommy  Potts.”  Another  piece  supposed  by  the  same  hand,  by 
way  of  supplement  to  the  former. 

“ The  Wise  Men  of  Gotham,  cum  Appendice.”  This  is  a treatise  i 
of  immense  erudition,  being  the  great  original  and  fountain  of  those 
arguments,  bandied  about  both  in  France  and  England,  for  a just 
defence  of  the  moderns'  learning  and  wit,  against  the  presumption,  the 
pride,  and  the  ignorance  of  the  ancients.  This  unknown  author  hath 
so  exhausted  the  subjectTThat  a penetrating  reader  will  easily  discover 
whatever  hath  been  written  since  upon  that  dispute,  to  be  little  more 
than  repetition.  An  abstract  of  this  treatise  hath  been  lately  pub-  j 
lished  by  a worthy  member  of  our  society. 

These  notices  may  serve  to  give  the  learned  reader  an  idea  as  well  1 
as  a taste  of  what  the  whole  work  is  likely  to  produce  : wherein  I 
have  now  altogether  circumscribed  my  thoughts  and  my  studies  ; and 
if  I can  bring  it  to  a perfection  before  I die,  shall  reckon  I have  well  ; 
employed  the  poor  remains  of  an  untortunate  lire.  This,  indeed,  is 
more  than  I can  justly  expect  from  a quill  Worn  to  the  pith  in  the  ser- 
vice of  the  state,  in  pros  and  cons  upon  Popish  plots,  and  meal-tubs, 
and  exclusion  bills,  and  passive  obedience,  and  addresses  o.  lives  and 
fortunes  ; and  prerogative,  and  property,  and  liberty  of  conscience, 
and  letters  to  a friend  : from  an  understanding  and  a conscience, 
thread-bare  and  ragged  with  perpetual  turning  ; from  a head  broken 

• He  lived  a thousand. 

+ Viz.  iu  the  year  1698. 


A TALE  OF  A TUB . 


199 


in  a hundred  places,  by  the  malignants  of  the  opposite  factions,  and 
from  a body  spent  with  poxes  ill  cured,  by  trusting  to  bawds  and 
surgeons,  who  (as  it  afterwards  appeared)  were  professed  enemies  to 
me  and  the  government,  and  revenged  their  party's  quarrel  upon  my 
nose  and  shins.  Fourscore  and  eleven  pamphlets  have  I written  under 
three  reigns,  and  for  the  service  of  six  and  thirty  factions.  But  finding 
the  state  has  no  farther  occasion  for  me  and  my  ink,  I retire  willingly 
to  draw  it  out  into  speculations  more  becoming  a philosopher,  having 
to  my  unspeakable  comfort,  passed  a long  life,  with  a “ conscience  void 
of  offence  towards  God  and  towards  men.” 

But  to  return.  I am  assured  from  the  reader's  candour,  that  the 
brief  specimen  I have  given,  will  easily  clear  all  the  rest  of  our  society's 
productions  from  an  aspersion  grown,  as  it  is  manifest,  out  of  $nvy 
and  ignorance,  that  they  are  of  little  farther  use  or  value  to  mankind, 
beyond  the  common  entertainments  of  their  wit  and  their  style  : for 
these  I am  sure  have  never  yet  been  disputed  by  our  keenest  adver- 
saries ; in  both  which,  as  well  as  the  more  profound  and  mystical  part, 
I have  throughout  this  treatise  closely  followed  the  most  applauded 
originals.  And  to  render  all  complete,  I have  with  much  thought  and 
application  of  mind,  so  ordered,  that  the  chief  title  prefixed  to  it  (I 
mean,  that  under  which  I design  it  shall  pass  in  the  common  conver- 
sations of  court  and  town),  is  modelled  exactly  after  the  manner  pecu- 
liar to  our  society. 

I confess  to  have  been  somewhat  liberal  in  the  business  of  titles,1* 
having  observed  the  humour  of  multiplying  them,  to  bear  great  vogue 
amon^  certain  writers,  whom  I exceedingly  reverence.  And,  indeed 
it  seems  not  unreasonable,  that  books,  the  children  of  the  brain,  should 
have  the  honour  to  be  christened  with  variety  of  names,  as  well  as 
other  infants  of  quality.  Our  famous  Dryden  has  ventured  to  proceed 
a point  farther,  endeavouring  to  introduce  also  a multiplicity  of  God- 
fathers ;+  which  is  an  improvement  of  much  more  advantage,  upon  a 
very  obvious  account.  'Tis  a pity  this  admirable  invention  has  not 
been  better  cultivated,  so  as  to  grow  by  this  time  into  general  imita- 
tion, when  such  an  authority  serves  it  for  a precedent.  Nor  have  my 
endeavours  been  wanting  to  second  so  useful  an  example  : but  it  seems 
there  is  an  unhappy  expense  usually  annexed  to  the  calling  of  a god- 
father, which  was  clearly  out  of  my  head,  as  it  is  very  reasonable  to 
believe.  Where  the  pinch  lay,  I cannot  certainly  affirm  ; but  having 
employed  a world  of  thoughts  and  pains,  to  split  my  treatise  into  forty 
sections,  and  having  entreated  forty  lords  of  my  acquaintance,  that 
they  would  do  me  the  honour  to  stand,  they  all  made  it  matter  of  con- 
science, and  sent  me  their  excuses. 

* The  title  page  in  the  original  was  so  tom,  that  it  was  not  possible  to  r& 
Cover  several  titles  which  the  author  here  speaks  o£ 

t See  Virgil  translated,  &c. 


200 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


SECTION  II. 

ONCE  upon  a time  there  was  a man  who  had  three  sons  by  one 
wife,  and  all  at  a birth,  neither  could  the  mid-wife  tell  certainly 
which  was  the  eldest.  Their  father  died  while  they  were  young,  and 
upon  his  death-bed,  calling  the  lads  to  him,  spoke  thus. 

“ Sons ; because  I have  purchased  no  estate,  nor  was  born  to  any, 
I have  long  considered  of  some  good  legacies  to  bequeath  you  ; and  at 
last,  with  much  care  as  well  as  expense,  have  provided  each  of  you 
(here  they  are)  a new  coat.  Now,  you  are  to  understand,  that  these 
coats  have  two  virtues  contained  in  them  : one  is,  that  with  good 
wearing,  they  will  last  vouJxesh  and  sound^  as  -long-,  as  yon  ..live  : the 
other  is,  that  they_will  grow  in  the  same  proportion  with  your  bodies, 
lengthening  and  widening  of  tHemselve^'so  as  to  be  always  fit.  Here, 
let  me  see  them  on  you  before  Tcfre.  So,  very  well,  pray  children, 
wear  them  clean,  and  brush  them  often.  You  will  find  in  my  will 
(here  it  is)  full  instructions  in  every  particular  concerning  the  wearing 
and  management  of  your  coats  ; wherein  you  must  be  very  exact,  to 
avoid  the  penalties  I have  appointed  for  every  transgression  or  neglect, 
upon  which  your  future  fortunes  will  entirely  depend.  I have  also 
commanded  in  my  will,  that  you  should  live  together  in  one  house  like 
Brethren"  and  friends,  for  then  "vou  will  be  sure  to  thrive,  and  not 
otherwise/*' 

Here  the  story  says,  this  good  father  died,  and  the  three  sons  went 

all  together  to  seek  their  fortunes. 

I shall  not  trouble  you  with  recounting  what  adventures  they  met 
for  the  first  seven  years,  any  farther  than  by  taking  notice,  that  they 
carefully  observed  their  father’s  will,  and  kept  their  coats  in  very  good 
order ; that  they  travelled  through  several  countries,  encountered  a 
reasonable  quantity  of  giants,  and  slew  certain  dragons. 

Being  now'  arrived  at  the  proper  age  for  producing  themselves,  they 
came  up  to  town,  and  fell  in  love  with  the  ladies,  but  especially  three, 
who  about  that  time  were  in  chief  reputation  : the  Duchess  d’Aj^_ent, 
Madame  de  Grands  Titres,  and  the  Countess  d’Orgueil  On  their 
first  appearance,  our  three  adventurers  met  with  a very  bad  reception  : 
and  soon  with  great  sagacity  guessing  out  the  reason,  they  quickly 
began  to  improve  in  the  good  qualities  of  the  town  : they  writ,  and 
rallied,  and  rhymed,  and  sung,  and  said,  and  said  nothing  : they  drank, 
and  fought,  and  whored,  and  slept,  and  swore,  and  took  snuff:  they 
went  to  new  plays  on  the  first  night,  haunted  the  chocolate-houses, 
beat  the  watch,  lay  on  bulks,  and  got  claps  : they  bilked  hackney- 
coachmen,  ran  in  debt  with  shop-keepers,  and  lay  with  their  wives  : 
they  killed  bailiffs,  kicked  fiddlers  downstairs,  eat  at  Locket’s,  loitered 
at  Will’s  • they  talked  of  the  Drawing-room  and  never  came  there, 
dined  with  lords  they  never  saw  ; whispered  a duchess  and  spoke 
never  a word : exposed  the  scrawls  of  their  laundress  for  billet-doux  of 
quality  : came  ever  just  from  court  and  were  never  seen  in  it ; attended 
the  levee  sub  dio ; got  a list  of  peers  by  heart  in  one  company  and 
with  great  familiarity  retailed  them  in  another.  Above  all,  they  con- 
stantly attended  those  committees  of  senators  who  are  silent  in  the 
House,  and  loud  in  the  cofiee-house,  where  they  nightly  adjourn  to 


A TALE  OF  A TUB. 


201 


chew  the  cud  of  politics,  and  are  encompassed  with  a ring  of  disciples, 
who  lie  in  wait  to  catch  up  their  droppings.  The  three  brothers  had 
arqnirpd — fnrty  rations  of  the  like  Stamp*  too  tedious  t'O 

recount,  and  by  consequence,  were  justly  reckoned  the  most  accom- 
plished  persons  in  the  tovvp_L  r*1'  and  the  ladies 

aforesaid  continued  still  inflexible  : to  clear  up  which  difficulty,  I must 
with  the  reader's  good  leave  and  patience,  have  recourse  to  some 
points  of  weight,  which  the  authors  of  that  age  have  not  sufficiently 
illustrated. 

For,  about  this  time  it  happened,  a sect  arose,  whose  tenets  obtained 
and  spread  very  far,  especially  in  th t grand  Monde , and  among  every- 
body of  good  fashion.  They  worshipped  a sort  of  idol,  who  as  their 
doctrine  delivered,  did  daily  create  men  by  a kind  of  manufactory 
operation.  This  idol  they  placed  in  the  highest  parts  of  the  house  on 
an  altar  erected  about  three  foot.  He  was  shown  in  the  posture  of  a 
Persian  Emperor,  sitting  on  a superficies,  with. his  legs  interwoven  under 
him.  This  god  had  a goose  for  his  ensign  ; whence  it  is  that  some  learned 
men  pretend  to  deduce  his  original  from  Jupiter  Capitolinus.  At  his 
left  hand,  beneath  the  altar,  hell  seemed  to  open,  and  catch  at  the  ani- 
mals the  idol  was  creating;  to  prevent  which  certain  of  his  priests  hourly 
flung  in  pieces  of  the  uninformed  mass,  or  substance,  and  sometimes 
whole  limbs  already  enlivened,  which  that  horrid  gulf  insatiably 
swallowed,  terrible  to  behold.  The  goose  was  also  held  a subaltern 
divinity,  or  deus  minorum  gentium , before  whose  shrine  was  sacrificed 
that  creature,  whose  hourly  food  is  human  gore,  and  who  is  in  so  great 
renown  abroad  for  being  the  delight  and  favourite  of  the  Egyptian 
Cercopithecus.  .Millions  of  these  animals  were  cruelly  slaughtered 
every  day  to  appease  the  hunger  of  that  consuming  deity.  The  chief 
idol  was  also  worshipped  as  the  inventor  of  the  yard  and  the  needle, 
whether  as  the  god  of  seamen  or  on  account  of  certain  other  mystical 
attributes, /Hath  not  been  sufficiently  cleared/ 

The  worshippers  of  this  deity  had  also  a system  of  their  belief,  which 
seemed  to  turn  upon  the  following  fundamental.  They  held  the  universe 
to  be  a large. suit  of  clothes,  which  invests  everything  ; that  the  earth 
is  invested  by  the  air  ; the  air  is  invested  by  the  stars  ; and  the  stars 
are  invested  by  the  primum  mobile.  Look  on  this  globe  of  earth,  you 
will  find  it  to  be  a very  complete  and  fashionable  dress.  What  is  that 
which  some  call  land,  but  a fine  coat  faced  with  green  ? or  the  sea,  but 
a waistcoat  of  water  tabby  ? Proceed  to  the  particular  works  of  the 
creation,  you  will  find  how  curious  journeyman  Nature  hath  been  to 
trim  up  the  vegetable  beaux.  Observe  how  sparkish  a periwig  adorns 
the  head  of  a beech,  and  what  a fine  doublet  of  white  satin  is  worn  by 
the  birch.  To  conclude  from  all,  what  is  man  himself  but  a micro- 
coat, or  rather  a complete  suit  of  clothes  with  all  its  trimmings.  As  to 
his  body,  there  can  be  no  dispute ; but  examine  even  the  acquirements 
of  his  mind,  you  wfill  find  them  all  contribute  in  their  order  towards 
furnishing  out  an  exact  dress.  To  instance  no  more,  is  not  religion  a 
cloak,  honesty  a pair  of  shoes,  worn  out  in  the  dirt,  self-love  a surtourt, 
vanity  a shirt,  and  conscience  a pair  of  breeches,  which,  though  a cover 
for  lewdness  as  well  as  nastiness,  is  easily  slipt  down  for  the  service  of 
both. 


202 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


These  postulata  being  admitted,  it  will  follow,  in  due  course  of  reason- 
ing, that  those  beings  which  the  world  calls  improperly  suits  of  clothes* 
are  in  reality  the  most  refined  species  of  animals,  or  to  proceed  higher, 
that  they  are  rational  creatures  or  men.  For  is  it  not  manifest  that  they 
live,  and  move,  and  talk,  and  perform  all  other  offices  of  human  life  ? 
Are  not  beauty,  and  wit,  and  mien,  and  breeding  their  inseparable 
proprieties  ? In  short,  we  see  nothing  but  them,  hear  nothing  but 

them.  Is  it  not  they  who  walk  the  streets,  fill  up  parliament , 

coffee , play , bawdy-houses  ? ’Tis  true,  indeed,  that  these  ani- 

mals, which  are  vulgarly  called  suits  of  clothes,  or  dresses,  do,  accord- 
ing to  certain  compositions,  receive  different  appellations.  If  one  of 
them  be  trimmed  up  with  a gold  chain,  and  a red  gown,  and  a white 
rod,  and  a great  horse,  it  is  called  a lord  mayor.  If  certain  ermines  and 
furs  be  placed  in  a certain  position,  we  style  them  a judge,  and  so,  an 
apt  conjunction  of  lawn  and  black  satin,  we  entitle  a bishop. 

Others  of  these  professors,  though  agreeing  in  the  main  system,  were 
yet  more  refined  upon  certain  branches  of  it ; and  held  that  man  was 
an  animal  compounded  of  two  dresses  : the  natural  jmdJ&£.£ekstial.. 
suit,  which  were  the  body  and  the  soul ; that  the  spul  was  the  outward, 
and  the  body  the  inward  clothing  ; that  the  latter  was  ex  traduce , but 
the  former  of  daily  creation  and  circumfusion.  This  last  they  proved 
by  Scripture,  because  “ in  them  we  live  and  move  and  have  our  being,” 
as  likewise  by  philosophy,  because  they  are  all  in  all,  and  all  in  every 
part.  Besides,  said  they,  separate  these  two,  and  you  will  find  the  body 
to  be  only  a senseless,  unsavoury  carcass.  By  all  which  it  is  manifest 
that  the  outward  dress  must  needs  be  the  soul. 

To  this  system  of  religion  were  tagged  several  subaltern  doctrines, 
which  were  entertained  with  great  vogue,  as,  particularly,  the  faculties 
of  the  mind  were  deduced  by  the  learned  among  them  in  this  manner  : 
embroidery  was  sheer  wit,  gold  fringe  was  agreeable  conversation,  gold 
lace  was  repartee,  a huge  long  periwig  was  humour,  and  a coat  full  of 
powder  was  very  good  raillery,  all  which  required  abundance  of  finesse 
and  delicatesse  to  manage  with  advantage  as  well  as  a strict  observance 
after  times  and  fashions. 

I have,  with  much  pains  and  reading,  collected  out  of  ancient  authors 
this  short  summary  of  a body  of  philosophy  and  divinity,  which  seems 
to  have  been  composed  by  a vein  and  race  of  thinking,  very  different 
from  any  other  systems,  either  ancient  or  modern.  And  t was  not 
merely  to  entertain  or  satisfy  the  reader’s  curiosity,  but  ratner  to  give 
him  light  into  several  circumstances  of  the  following  story:  that,  know- 
ing the  state  of  dispositions  and  opinions  in  an  age  so  remote,  he  may 
better  comprehend  those  great  events  which  were  the  issue  of  them. 
I advise,  therefore,  the  courteous  reader  to  peruse  with  a world  of  appli- 
cation again  and  again  whatever  I have  written  upon  this  matter.  And 
so,  leaving  these  broken  ends,  I carefully  gather  up  the  .met  thread  of 
my  story,  and  proceed. 

These  opinions,  therefore,  were  so  universal,  as  well  as  the  practices 
of  them,  among  the  refined  part  of  court  and  town,  that  our  three  brother- 
adventurers,  as  their  circumstances  then  stood,  were  strangely  at  a loss. 
For  on  the  one  side  the  three  ladies  they  addressed  themselves  to 
(whom  we  have  named  already)  were  ever  at  the  very  top  of  the  fashion. 


A TALE  OF  A TUB . 


203 


and  abhorred  all  that  were  below  it,  but  the  breadth  of  a hair.  On  th( 
other  sidej&gkia^^ 

from  their  coats  one  thread  without  a positive  command  in  the  wilb 
Now  the  coats  tlieir  father  had  left  them  were,  ’tis  true,  of  very  good 
cloth,  and,  besides,  so  neatly  sown  you  would  swear  they  were  all  of  a 
piece,  but,  at  the  same  time,  very  plain,  and  with  little  or  no  ornament. 
And  it  happened  that,  before  they  were  a month  in  town,  great  shoulder 
knots  came  up  ; straight,  all  the  world  was  shoulder-knots ; no  approach- 
ing the  ladies’  ruelles  without  the  quota  oT^ouTde'f-kn ots.  “That 
fellow,”  cries  one,  “has  no  soul  : where  is  his  shoulder-knot?”  Our 
three  brethren  soon  discovered  their  want  by  sad  experience,  meeting 
in  their  walks  with  forty  mortifications  and  indignities.  If  they  went 
to  the  playhouse  the  doorkeeper  showed  them  into  the  twelve-penny 
gallery.  If  they  called  a boat,  says  a waterman,  “ I am  first  sculler  if 
they  stepped  to  the  Rose  to  take  a bottle,  the  drawer  would  cry,  “Friend, 
we  sell  no  ale  if  they  went  to  visit  a lady,  a footman  met  them  at  the 
door  with,  “ Pray  send  up  your  message.”  In  this  unhappy  case  they 
went  immediately  to  consult  their  father’s  will,  read  it  over  and  over, 
but  not  a word  of  the  shoulder-knot.  What  should  they  do  ? What 
temper  should  they  find  ? Obedience  was  absolutely  necessary,  and 
shoulder-knots  appeared  extremely  requisite.  After  much  thought, 
one  of  the  brothers,  who  happened  to  be  more  book-learned  than  the 
other  two,  said  he  had  found  an  expedient.  “Tis  true,”  said  he,  “ there 
is  nothing  here  in  this  will,  totidem  verbis , making  mention  of 
shoulder-knots,  but  I dare  conjecture  we  may  find  them  inclusive  or 
totidem  syllabisP  This  distinction  was  immediately  approved  by  all  • 
and  so  they  fell  again  to  examine  the  will.  But  their  evil  star  had  so 
directed  the  matter,  that  the  first  syllable  was  not  to  be  found  in  the 
whole  writing.  Upon  which  disappointment  he  who  found  the  former 
evasion  took  heart,  and  said,  “ Brothers,  there  is  yet  hope,  for  though 
we  cannot  find  them  totidem  verbis , nor  totidem  syllabis , I dare  engage 
we  shall  make  them  out  tertio  modo , or  totidem  literis .”  This  discovery 
was  also  highly  commended,  upon  which  they  fell  once  more  to  the 
scrutiny,  and  soon  picked  out  S,  H,  O,  U,  L,  D,  E,  R ; when  the  same 
planet,  enemy  to  their  repose,  had  wonderfully  contrived  that  a K was 
not  to  be  found.  Here  was  a weighty  difficulty  ! But  the  distinguish- 
ing brother  (for  whom  we  shall  hereafter  find  a name),  now  his  hand 
was  in,  proved  by  a very  good  argument  that  K was  a modern  illegiti- 
mate letter,  unknown  to  the  learned  ages,  nor  anywhere  to  be  found  in 
ancient  manuscripts.  “ ’Tis  true,”  said  he,  “ the  word  Calendce  hath  in 
Q.  V.  C.*  been  sometimes  writ  with  a K,  but  erroneously,  for  in  the  best 
copies  it  is  ever  spelt  with  a C.  And,  by  consequence,  it  was  a gross 
mistake  in  our  language  to  spell 4 knot  ’ with  a K,  but  that  from  hence- 
forward he  would  take  care  it  should  be  writ  with  a C.”  Upon  this,  all 
farther  difficulty  vanished  : shoulder-knots  were  made  clearly  out  toiie 
iui:.e  paternoy  ancLaur  three  gentlemen  swaggered  with  as  large  and  as 
flaunting,  oa^^&.Ihe.J>est. 

But,  as  human  happiness  is  of  a very  short  duration,  so  in  those 


• Quibusdam  Veteribus  Codicibus* 


204 


DEAN  SW1F7  S WORKS. 


days  were  human  fashions,  upon  which  it  entirely  depends.  Shoulder* 
knots  had  their  time,  and  we  must  now  imagine  them  in  their  decline  ; 
for  a certain  lord  came  just  from  Paris  with  fifty  yards  of  gold  lace  upon 
his  coat,  exactly  trimmed  after  the  court  fashion  of  that  month.  In  two 
days  all  mankind  appeared  closed  up  in  bars  of  gold  lace.  Whoever 
durst  peep  abroad  without  his  complement  of  gold  lace  was  as  scanda- 
lous as  a , and  as  ill  received  among  the  women.  What  should 

our  three  knights  do  in  this  momentous  affair?  They  had  sufficiently 
strained  a point  already  in  the  affair  of  shoulder-knots.  Upon  recourse 
to  the  will  nothing  appeared  there  but  altitm  silentium . That  of  the 
shoulder-knots  was  a loose,  flying,  circumstantial  point ; but  this  of 
gold  lace  seemed  too  considerable  an  alteration  without  better  warrant ; 
it  did  aliqno  modo  essentia  adhcerere , and  therefore  required  a positive 
precept.  But  about  this  time  it  fell  out  that  the  learned  brother  afore- 
said had  read  “ Aristotelis  Dialectica,”  and  especially  that  wonderful 
piece  “ de  Interpretation, ” which  has  the  faculty  of  teaching  its  readers 
to  find  out  a meaning  in  everything  but  itself ; like  commentators  on 
the  Revelations,  who  proceed  prophets  without  understanding  a syllable 
of  the  text.  “ Brothers,”  said  he,  “ you  are  to  be  informed  that,  of 
wills,  duo  sunt  genera,  nuncupatory  and  scriptory,  that  in  the  scriptory 
will  here  before  us  there  is  no  precept  or  mention  about  gold  lace, 
conceditur ; but,  si  ide7n  affirmetur  de  nuncupatorio , negatur j for,, 
brothers,  if  you  remember,  we  heard  a fellow  say,  when  we  were  boysf 
that  he  heard  my  father’s  man  say  that  he  heard  my  father  say  that  he 
would  advise  his  sons  to  get  gold  lace  on  their  coats  as  soon  as  ever 

they  could  procure  money  to  buy  it.”  “ By  G that  is  very  true,”  cries 

the  other  ; “ I remember  it  perfectly  well,”  said  the  third.  And  so 
without  more  ado  they  got  the  largest  gold  lace  in  the  parish,  and  walked 
about  as  fine  as  lords. 

A while  after,  there  came  up  all  in  fashion  a pretty  sort  of  flame- 
coloured  satin  for  linings,  and  the-  mercer  brought  a pattern  of  it  im- 
mediately to  our  three  gentlemen.  “ An  please  your  worships,”  (said 

he),  “ My  Lord  C and  Sir  J.  W had  linings  out  of  this  very 

piece  last  night ; it  takes  wonderfully,  arid  I shall  not  have  a remnant 
left  enough  to  make  my  wife  a pincushion  by  to-morrow  morning  at  ten 
a’clock.”  Upon  this  they  fell  again  to  rummage  the  will,  because  the 
present  case  also  required  a positive  precept,  the  lining  being  held  by 
orthodox  writers  to  be  of  the  essence  of  the  coat.  After  long  search 
they  could  fix  upon  nothing  to  the  matter  in  hand,  except  a short 
advice  of  their  father’s  in  the  will  to  take  care  of  fire,  and  put  out  their 
candles  before  they  went  to  sleep.  This,  though  a good  deal  for  the 
purpose,  and  helping  very  far  towards  self-conviction,  yet  not  seeming 
wholly  of  force  to  establish  a command  ; and  being  resolved  to  avoid 
farther  scruple,  as  well  as  future  occasion  for  scandal,  says  he  that  was 
the  scholar  ; “ I remember  to  have  read  in  wills  of  a codicil  annexed, 
which  is  indeed  a part  of  the  will,  and  what  it  contains  hath  equal  au- 
thority with  the  rest.  Now,  I have  been  considering  of  this  same  will 
here  before  us,  and  I cannot  reckon  it  to  be  complete  for  want  of  such 
a codicil.  I will  therefore  fasten  one  in  its  proper  place  very  dexterously ; 
I have  had  it  by  me  some  time  ; it  was  written  by  a dog-keeper  of  my 
grandfather’s,  and  talks  a great  deal  (as  good  luck  would  have  it)  of  thij 


A TALE  OF  A TUB. 


very  flame-coloured  satin.”  The  project  was  immediately  approved 
by  the  other  two  ; an  old  parchment  scroll  was  tagged  on  according  to 
art  in  the  form  of  a codicil  annexed,  and  the  satin  bought  and  worn. 

Next  winter  a player,  hired  for  the  purpose  by  the  Corporation  ot 
Fringe-makers,  acted  his  part  in  a new  comedy,  all  covered  with  silver 
fringe,  and  according  to  the  laudable  custom  gave  rise  to  that  fashion. 
Upon  which,  the  brothers  consulting  their  father’s  will,  to  their  great 
astonishment  found  these  words  ; item,  “ I charge  and  command  my 
said  three  sons,  to  wear  no  sort  of  silver  fringe  upon  or  about  their 
said  coats,”  &c.,  with  a penalty  in  case  of  disobedience,  too  long  here 
to  insert.  However,  after  some  pause,  the  brother  so  often  mentioned 
for  his  erudition,  who  was  well  skilled  in  criticisms,  had  found  in  a 
certain  author,  which  he  said  should  be  nameless,  that  the  same  word 
which  in  the  will  is  called  fringe,  does  also  signify  a broom-stick  ; and 
doubtless  ought  to  have  the  same  interpretation  in  this  paragraph. 
This  another  of  the  brothers  disliked,  because  of  that  epithet,  silver, 
which  could  not,  he  humbly  conceived,  in  propriety  of  speech  be  reason- 
ably applied  to  a broom-stick  : but  it  was  replied  upon  him,  tfiaFTKis 
epithet  was  understood  in  a mythological  and  allegorical  sense.  How- 
ever, he  objected  again,  why  their  father  should  forbid  them  to  wear  a 
broom-stick  on  their  coats,  a caution  that  seemed  unnatural  and  im- 
pertinent ; upon  which  he  was  taken  up  short,  as  one  that  spoke  irre- 
verently of  a mystery,  which,  doubtless,  was  very  useful  and  significant, 
but  ought  not  to  be  over-curiously  pried  into,  or  nicely  reasoned  upon. 
And,  in  short,  their  father’s  authority  being  now  considerably  sunk, 
this  expedient  was  allowed  to  serve  as  a lawful  dispensation  for  wear- 
ing their  full  proportion  of  silver  fringe. 

A while  after  was  revived  an  old  fashion,  long  antiquated,  of  em- 
broidery with  Indian  figures  of  men,  women,  and  children.  Here  they 
Ead  no  occasion  to  examine  the  will.  They  remembered  but  too  well 
how  their  father  had  always  abhorred  this  fashion ; that  he  made 
several  paragraphs  on  purpose,  importing  his  utter  detestation  of  it,  and 
bestowing  his  everlasting  curse  to4iis  sons  whenever  they  should  wear 
it.  For  all  this,  in  a few  days,  they  appeared  higher  in  the  fashion 
than  anybody  else  in  the  town.  But  they  solved  the  matter  by  saying 
that  these  figures  were  not  at  all  the  same  with  those  that  were  for- 
merly worn,  and  were  meant  in  the  will.  Besides,  they  did  not  wear 
them  in  that  sense,  as  forbidden  by  their  father,  but  as  they  were  a 
commendable  custom,  and  of  great  use  to  the  public.  That  these 
rigorous  clauses  in  the  will  did  therefore  require  some  allowance,  and 
a favourable  interpretation,  and  ought  to  be  understood  cum  grano 
salts. 

But,  fashions  perpetually  altering  in  that  age,  the  scholastic  brother 
grew  weary  of  searching  farther  evasions,  and  solving  everlasting  con- 
tradictions. Resolved,  therefore,  at  all  hazards,  to  comply  with  the 
modes  of  the  world,  they  concerted  matters  together,  and  agreed  unani- 
mously to  lock  up  their  father’s  will  in  a strong  box,  brought  out  of 
Greece  or  Italy  (I  have  forgot  which),  and  trouble  themselves  no  farther 
to  examine  it,  but  only  refer  to  its  authority  whenever  they  thought  fit. 
In  consequence  whereof,  a while  after,  it  grew  a general  mode  to  wear 
an  infinite  number  of  points,  most  of  them  tagged  with  silver ; upon 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


the  fashion  prescribed  somewhat  more  than  were  directly  named  in  the 
will ; however,  that  they,  as  heirs  general  of  their  father,  had  power 
to  make  and  add  certain  clauses  for  public  emolument,  though  not 
deducible,  totidem  verbis  from  the  letter  of  the  will,  or  else,  multa 
absurda  sequerentur.  This  was  understood  for  canonical,  and,  there- 
fore on  the  following  Sunday  they  came  to  church  all  covered  with  points. 

The  learned  brother  so  often  mentioned  was  reckoned  the  best 
scholar  in  all  that  or  the  next  street  to  it ; insomuch,  as  having  run 
something  behind-hand  with  the  world,  he  obtained  the  favour  from  a 
certain  lord,  to  receive  him  into  his  house,  and  to  teach  his  children. 
A while  after,  the  lord  died,  and  he,  by  long  practice  of  his  father's  will, 
found  the  way  of  contriving  a deed  of  conveyance  of  that  house  to 
himself  and  nis  heirs  : upon  which  he  took  possession,  turned  the 
young  squires  out,  and  received  his  brothers  in  their  stead. 


HOUGH  I have  been  hitherto  as  cautious  as  I could,  upon  all 


occasions,  most  nicely  to  follow  the  rules  and  methods  of  writing, 
laid  down  by  the  example  of  our  illustrious  moderns  ; yet  has  the  un- 
happy shortness  of  my  memory  led  me  into  an  error,  from  which  I 
must  immediately  extricate  myself,  before  I can  decently  pursue  my 
principal  subject.  I confess  with  shame,  it  was  an  unpardonable  I 
omission  to  proceed  so  far  as  I have  already  done,  before  I had  per- 
formed the  due  discourses,  expostulatory,  supplicatory,  or  deprecatory, 
with  my  good  lords  the  critics.  Towards  some  atonement  for  this  * 
grievous  neglect,  I do  here  make  humbly  bold  to  present  them  with  a ' 
~hort  account  of  themselves  and  their  art,  by  looking  into  the  original 
and  pedigree  of  the  word,  as  it  is  generally  understood  among  us,  and 
very  briefly  considering  the  ancient  and  present  state  thereof. 

By  the  word  critic,  at  this  day  so  frequent  in  all  conversations,  there 
have  sometimes  been  distinguished  three  very  different  species  of 
mortal  men,  according  as  I have  read  in  ancient  books  and  pamphlets. 
For  first,  by  this  term  were  understood  such  persons  as  invented  or 
drew  up  rules  for  themselves  and  the  world,  by  observing  which,  a 
careful  reader  might  be  able  to  pronounce  upon  the  productions  of 
the  learned,  form  his  taste  to  a true  relish  of  the  sublime  and  the  ad- 
mirable, and  divide  every  beauty  of  matter  or  of  style  from  the  corrup- 
tion that  apes  it  : in  their  common  perusal  of  books,  singling  out  the 
errors  and  defects,  the  nauseous,  the  fulsome,  the  dull,  and  the  imper- 
tinent, with  the  caution  of  a man  that  walks  through  Edinburgh 
streets  in  a morning,  who  is  indeed  as  careful  as  he  can,  to  watch 
diligently,  and  spy  out  the  filth  in  his  way,  not  that  he  is  curious  to 
observe  the  colour  and  complexion  of  the  ordure  ; or  take  its  dimen- 
sions, much  less  to  be  paddling  in  it,  or  tasting  it  : but  only  with  a 
design  to  come  out  as  cleanly  as  he  may.  These  men  seem,  though 
very  erroneously,  to  have  understood  the  appellation  of  critic  in  a 
literal  sense ; that  one  principal  part  of  his  office  was  to  praise  and 


SECTION  III. 

A digression  concerning  critics. 


A TALE  OF  A TUB. 


209 


and  taste  could  overlook  them.  I shall  venture  from  a great  number  to 
^produce  a few,  which  l am  very  confident  will  put  this  question  beyond 
dispute. 

It  well  deserves  considering  that  these  ancient  writers,  in  treating 
enigmatically  upon  this  subject,  have  generally  fixed  upon  the  very  same 
hieroglyph,  varying  only  the  story  according  to  their  affections  or  their 
wit.  For,  first,  .Bausamas  is^of  opinion  that  the  perfection  of  writing 
correct  was  entirely  owing  to  the  institution  of  critics  ; and  that  he  can 
possibly  mean  no  other  than  the  true  critic  is,  I think,  manifest  enough 
from  the  following  description.  He  says,  “ They  were  a race  of  men, 
who  delighted  to  nibble  at  the  superfluities  and  excrescencies  of  books, 
which  the  learned,  at  length  observing,  took  warning  of  their  own  accord 
to  lop  the  luxuriant,  the  rotten,  the  dead,  the  sapless,  and  the  overgrown 
branches  from  their  works.”  But  now  all  this  he  cunningly  shades 
under  the  following  allegory : “that  the  Nauplians  in  Argia  learned 
the  art  of  pruning  their  vines  by  observing  that  when  an  ass  had  browsed 
upon  one  of  them  it  thrived  the  better,  and  bore  fairer  fruit.”  But 
Herodotus,*  holding  the  very  same  hieroglyph,  speaks  much  plainer, 
and  almost  in  terminis.  He  hath  been  so  bold  as  to  tax  the  true  critics 
of  ignorance  and  malice,  telling  us  openly,  for  I think  nothing  can  be 
plainer,  that  in  the  western  part  of  Libya  there  were  asses  with  horns, 
upon  which  relation  Ctesiasf  yet  refines,  mentioning  the  very  same 
animal  about  India,  adding,  “ That  whereas  all  other  asses  wanted  a 
gall,  these  horned  ones  were  so  redundant  in  that  part  that  their  flesh  was 
not  to  be  eaten,  because  of  its  extreme  bitterness.”  \ 

Now,  the  reason  why  those  ancient  writers  treated  this  subject  only 
by  types  and  figures  was,  because  they  durst  not  make  open  attacks 
against  a party  so  potent  and  so  terrible,  as  the  critics  of  those  ages 
were,  whose  very  voice  was  so  dreadful  that  a legion  of  authors  would 
tremble,  and  drop  their  pens  at  the  sound  ; for  so  Herodotus!  tells  us 
expressly  in  another  place  how  a vast  army  of  Scythians  was  put  to 
flight  in  a panic  terror  by  the  braying  of  an  ass.  From  hence  it  is 
conjectured  by  certain  profound  philologers  that  the  great  awe  and 
reverence  paid  to  a true  critic  by  the  writers  of  Britain  have  been 
derived  to  us  from  those  of  our  Scythian  ancestors.  In  short,  this 
dread  was  so  universal  that  in  process  of  time  those  authors  who 
had  a mind  to  publish  their  sentiments  more  freely  in  describing  the 
'true  critics  of  their  several  ages  were  forced  to  leave  off  the  use  of  the 
formed  hierogl;. ; h as  too  nearly  approaching  the  prototype,  and  in- 
vented other  termsv tested  thereof  that  were  more  cautious  and  mys- 
tical ; so  Diodorus,  speaking" tcTthc -same  purpose,  ventures  no  farther 
than  to  say  that  “ in  the  mountains  of  Helicon,  there  grows  a certain 
weed,  which  bears  a flower  of  so  damned*  a scent  as  to  poison  those 
who  offer  to  smell  it.”  Lucretius  gives  exactly  the  same  relation, — 

**  Est  etiam  in  magnis  Heliconis  montibus  arbos, 

Floris  odore  hominem  retro  consueta  necare.”  Lib.  6. 

But  Ctesias,  whom  we  lately  quoted,  hath  been  a great  deal  bolder. 

• Lib.  4.  t Vide  excerpta  ex  eo  apud  Photium.  + Lib.  4, 

H 


210 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS . 


He  had  been  used  with  much  severity  by  the  true  critics  of  his  own 
a^e,  and  therefore  could  not  forbear  to  leave  behind  him  at  least  one 
deep  mark  of  his  vengeance  against  the  whole  tribe.  His  meaning  is 
so  near  the  surface  that  I wonder  how  it  possibly  came  to  be  overlooked 
by  those  who  deny  the  antiquity  of  the  true  critics.  For  pretending  to 
make  a description  of  many  strange  animals  about  India  he  hath  set 
down  these  remarkable  words  : T Among  the  rest,”  says  he,  “there  is  a 
serpent  that  wants  teeth,  and  consequently  cannot  bite,  but  if  its  vomit 
(to  which  it  is  much  addicted)  happens  to  fall  upon  anything,  a certain 
rottenness  or  corruption  ensues.  These  serpents  are  generally  lound 
among  the  mountains  where  jewels  grow,  and  they  frequently  emit  a 
poisonous  juice,  whereof  whoever  drinks,  that  person's  brains  flies  out  of 

his  nostrils.”  . . . 

There  was  also  among  the  ancients  a sort  of  critic,  not  distinguished 
in  species  from  the  former,  but  in  growth  or  degree,  who  seem  to  have 
been  only  the  tyros  or  junior  scholars  ; yet  because  of  their  differing 
employments  they  are  frequently  mentioned  as  a sect  by  themselves. 
The  usual  exercise  of  these  younger  students  was  to  attend  constantly 
at  theatres,  and  learn  to  spy  out  the  worst  parts  of  the  play,  whereof 
they  were  obliged  carefully  to  take  note,  and  render  a rational  account 
to  their  tutors.  Fleshed  at  these  smaller  sports,  like  young  wolves, 
they  grew  up  in  time  to  be  nimble  and  strong  enough  for  hunting  down 
large  game.  For  it  hath  been  observed  both  among  ancients  and: 
moderns  that  a true  critic  hath  one  quality  in  common  with  a whore 
and  an  alderman,  never  to  change  his  title  or  his  nature  ; that  a grey 
critic  has  been  certainly  a green  one,  the  perfections  and  acquirements, 
' of  his  age  being  only  the  improved  talents  of  his  youth,  like  hemp,| 
which  some  naturalists  inform  us  is  bad  for  suffocations,  though  taken, 
but  in  the  seed.  I esteem  the  invention,  or  at  least  the  refinement  o^ 
prologues,  to  have  been  owing  to  these  younger  proficients,  ot  whom 
Terence  makes  frequent  and  honourable  mention  under  the  name  of 
Malevoli. 

NW  Jtig  r-prtain  the  institution  *£Jkhe~irue  critics  was^of  absolute 
necessity  to  the  commonwealth  of  learning,  for  all  human  actions  : ~em; 
"tol5e  dlvitted  like  Thefinst'S^les  and  his  company  : one  man  can  fiddle* 
and  another  can  make  a small  town  a great  city  ; and  he  that  cannot; 
do  either  one  or  the  other  deserves  to  be  kicked  out  of  the  creation. 
The  avoiding  of  which  penalty  has  doubtless  given  the  first  birth  to  th^ 
nation  of  critics,  and  withal  an  occasion  for  their  secret  detractors  to 
report  that  a true  critic  i£  a sort  of  mechanic with  a stock  and 
tools  for  his  trade  at  as  little  expqrSrJf-a  tailor,  and  that  there  is  much 
analogy  between  the  utens;xVand  abilities  of  both  : that  the  tailor's  hell 
is  the  type  of  a CJit'iVs  common-place  book,  and  his  wit  and  learn  mg 
held  forth  b->the  goose.  That  it  requires  at  least  as  many  of  these  to 
the  ma^fng  up  0f  one  scholar  as  of  the  others  to  the  composition  of  a 
• that  the  valour  of  both  is  equal,  and  their  weapons  near  of  a 
size.  ’ Much  may  be  said  in  answer  to  these  invidious  reflections  ; anal 
I can  positively  affirm  the  first  to  be  a falsehood  ; for,  on  the  contrary, 
nothing  is  more  certain  than  that  it  requires  greater  layings  out  to  be| 
free  of  the  critic’s  company  than  of  any  other  you  can  name.  For,  as  to 
be  a true  beggar,  it  will  cost  the  richest  candidate  every  groat  he  is 


A TALE  OP  A TUB. 


tn 


worth,  so,  before  one  can  commence  a true  critic,  it  will  cost  a man  all 
the  good'  qualities  of  his  mind,  which,  perhaps,  for  a less  purchase, 
would  be  thought  but  an  indifferent  bargain. 

Having  thus  amply  proved  the  antiquity  of  criticism,  and  described 
the  primitive  state  of  it,  i-shall  now  examine  the  present  condition  of 
-this  empire,  and  show  how  well  it  agrees  with  its  ancient  self.  A cer- 
tain author,*  whose  works  have  many  ages  since  been  entirely  lost,  does, 
in  his  fifth  book  and  eighth  chapter,  say  of  critics  “ that  their  writings  are 
the  mirrors  of  learning.”  This  I understand  in  a literal  sense,  and 
suppose  our  autKor  must  mean  that  whoever  designs  to  be  a perfect 
writer  must  inspect  into  the  books  of  critics,  and  correct  his  invention 
there  as  in  a mirror.  Now,  whoever  considers  that  the  mirrors  of  the 
ancientsjvere  made  of  brass,  and  sine  mercurio,  may  presently  apply 
the  two  principal  qualifications  of  a true  modern  critic,  and  consequently 
must  needs  conclude  that  these  have  always  been  and  must  be  for  ever 
the  same.  For  brass  is  an  emblem  of  duration,  and  when  it  is  skilfully 
burnished  will  cast  reflections  from  its  own  superficies  without  any  as- 
sistance of  mercury  from  behind.  Ail  the  other  talents  of  a critic  will 
not  require  a particular  mention,  being  included  or  easily  deducible  to 

-both  as  characteristics  to  distinguish  a true  modern  critic  from  a .pre- 
tender, and  will  be  also  of  admirable  use  to,  those" worthy  spirits,  who 
engage  in  so  useful  and  honourable  an  art. 

The  first  is,  that  cntic  ism,  contrary  to  all  .other  faculties  of  the  intel- 
lect, is  ever  held  the  truest  and  best  when  it  is  the  very  first  result  of  ' 
the  entices  mindf  as  fowlers  reckon  the  first  aim  for  the  surest,  and 
seldom  tail  ot  missing  the  mark  if  they  stay  not  for  a second. 

Secondly,. the  tme^^ritios-are  known  by  their  talent  of  swarming 
about  the  noblest  writers,  tp  which  they  are  carried  merely  by  instinct, 

2s  a rat  to  the  bfvn^OSc  c*  hcJ  vv? '£>  t0  the  fairest  fruit.  So,  when  the 
king  Ahorseback,  he  is  sure  to  be^feS  dirtiest  person  of  the  company, 
and  they  that  make  their  court  best  are  bespatter  him  most. 

Lastly,  a true  critic,  in  theperusal  of  a book,  is  a do£  at  a feast,  (^~>  J 
whose  thoughts  and  stomach  are  wholly  set  upon  wha1bthe  £uests  flin£ 
away,  and  consequently  is  apt  to  snarl  most  when  there  al?  the  iewest 
bones. 

Thus  much,  I think,  is  sufficient  to  serve  by  way  of  address1  t?  my 
patrons,  the  true  modern  critics,  and  may  very  well  atone  for  my  p]aSt 
silence,  as  well  as  that  which  I am  like  to  observe  for  the  future.  1 
hope  I have  deserved  so  well  of  their  whole  body  as  to  meet  with  gener- 
ous and  tender  usage  at  their  hands.  Supported  by  which  expectation 
I go  on  boldly  to  pursue  those  adventures  already  so  happily  begun. 

* A quotation  after  the  manner  of  a great  author.  Vide  Bentley’s  “Disserta. 

tion,”  &C. 


14-3 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


21* 

SECTION  IV. 

I HAVE  now  with  much  pains  and  study,  conducted  the  reader  to  a 
period,  where  he  must  expect  to  hear  of  great  revolutions.  For  no 
sooner  had  our  learned  brother,  so  often  mentioned,  got  a warm  house 
of  his  own  over  his  head  than  he  began  to  look  big,  and  to  take  mightily 
upon  him,  insomuch  that,  unless  the  gentle  reader  out  of  his  great 
candour  will  please  a little  to  exalt  his  idea,  I am  afraid  he  will  hence- 
forth hardly  know  the  hero  of  the  play  when  he  happens  to  meet  him, 
his  part,  his  dress,  and  his  mien  being  so  much  altered. 

He  told  his  brothers  he  would  have  them  to  know  that  he  was  their 
elder,  and  consequently  his  father’s  sole  heir ; nay,  a while  after,  he 
would  not  allow  them  to  call  him  brother,  but  Mr.  Peter  ; and  then  he 
must  be  styled,  Father  Peter,  and,  sometimes,  My  Lord  Peter.  To 
support  this  grandeur,  which  he  soon  began  to  consider  could  not  be 
maintained  without  a better  fonde  than  what  he  was  born  to,  after  much 
thought  he  cast  about  at  last  to  turn  projector  and  virtuoso,  wherein  he 
so  well  succeeded  that  many  famous  discoveries,  projects,  and  ma- 
chines, which  bear  great  vogue  and  practice  at  present  in  the  world, 
are  owing  entirely  to  Lord  Peter’s  invention.  1 will  deduce  the  best 
account  I have  been  able  to  collect  of  the  chief  amongst  them  without 
considering  much  the  order  they  came  out  in,  because,  I think,  authors 
are  not  well  agreed  as  to  that  point. 

I hope,  when  this  treatise  of  mine  shall  be  translated  into  foreign 
languages  (as  I may,  without  vanity,  affirm  that  the  labour  of  collecting, 
the  faithfulness  in  recounting,  and  the  great  usefulness  of  the  matter  to 
the  public  will  amply  deserve  that  justice),  that  the  worthy  members  of 
the  several  academies  abroad,  especially  those  of  France  and  Italy,  will 
favourably  accept  these  humble  offers  for  the  advancement  of  universal 
knowledge.  I do  also  advertise  the  fibers,  the  eastern  ? 

missionaries,  that  I have,  purely  fo;  cheir  sakes,  made  use  h woofs 
and  phrases,  as  will  best  adm;V  an  easy  turn  into  any  of  the  oriental 
languages,  especially  Chinese.  And  so  1 proceed  with  great  con- 
tent of  mind,  upo^reflecting  how  much  emolument  this  whole  globe  of 
earth  is  like  reap  by  my  labours. 

The  fir-L  undertaking  of  Lord  Peter  was  to  purchase  a large  continent, 
latelyr^d  to  have  been  discovered  in  Terra  Australis  incognita.  This 
traC't  of  land  he  bought  at  a very  great  pennyworth  from  the  discoverers 
tnemselves  (though  some  pretended  to  doubt  whether  they  had  ever 
been  there),  and  then  retailed  it  into  several  cantons  to  certain  dealers, 
who  carried  over  colonies,  but  were  all  shipwrecked  in  the  voyage,  upon 
which  Lord  Peter  sold  the  said  continent  to  other  customers  again,  and 
again,  and  again,  and  again,  with  the  same  success. 

The  second  project  I shall  mention  was  his  sovereign  remedy  for  the 
worms,  especially  those  in  the  spleen.  The  patient  was  to  eat  nothing 
after  supper  for  three  nights  ; as  soon  as  he  went  to  bed  he  was  careiully 
to  lie  on  one  side,  and  when  he  grew  weary  to  turn  upon  the  other.  He 
must  also  duly  confine  his  two  eyes  to  the  same  object ; and  by  no  means 
break  wind  at  both  ends  together  without  manifest  occasion.  These 
prescriptions  diligently  observed,  the  worms  would  void  insensibly  by 
perspiration,  ascending  through  the  brain. 


A TALE  Of  A TUB . 


«3 


A third  invention  was  the  erecting  of  a whispering  office  for  the 
public  good,  and  ease  of  all  such  as  are  hypochondriacal  or  troubled 
with  the  cholic;  as,  likewise,  of  all  eaves-droppers,  physicians,  mi*d wives, 
small  politicians,  friends  fallen  out,  repeating  poets,  lovers  happy  or  in 
despair,  bawds,  privy-councillors,  pages,  parasites.,  and  buffoons  ; in 
short,  of  all  such  as  are  in  danger  of  bursting  with  too  much  wind.  An 
ass's  head  was  placed  so  conveniently^hatTHe  party  aHected  might 
easily,  with  his  mouth,  accost  either  ol  the  animal's  ears  ; which  he  was 
to  apply  close  for  a certain  space,  and  by  a fugitive  faculty,  peculiar  to 
the  ears  of  that  animal,  receive  immediate  benefit,  either  by  eructation, 
or  expiration,  or  evomition. 

Another  very  beneficial  project  of  Lord  Peter’s  was  an  office  of  in- 
surance for  tobacco-pipes,  martyrs  of  the  modern  zeal,  volumes  of  poetry, 
shadows /rrr^rrT7.T.and  rivers  ; that  these,  nor  any  of  these,  shall  receive 
damage  by  fire.  From  whence  our  friendly  societies  may  plainly  find 
themselves  to  be  only  transcribers  from  this  original,  though  the  one 
and  the  other  have  been  of  great  benefit  to  the  undertakers  as  well  as 
of  equal  to  the  public. 

Lord  Peter  was  also  held  the  original  author  of  puppets  and  raree- 
shows,  the  great  usefulness  whereof"heing  r?o  generally  known  I shall 
not  enlarge  farther  upon  this  particular. 

But  another  discovery  for  which  he  was  much  renowned  was  his 
famous  universal  pickle  : for,  having  remarked  how  your  common  pickle 
in“use  among  housewives  was  of  no  farther  benefit  than  to  preserve  dead 
flesh,  and  certain  kinds  of  vegetables,  Peter,  with  great  cost  as  well  as  art, 
had  contrived  a pickle  proper  for  houses,  gardens,  towns,  men,  women, 
children,  and  cattle,  wherein  he  could  preserve  them  as  sound  as  insects 
in  amber.  Now  this  pickle  to  the  taste,  the  smell,  and  the  sight  ap- 
peared exactly  the  same  with  what  is  in  common  service  for  beef,  and 
butter,  and  herrings  (and  has  been  often  that  way  applied  with  great 
success),  but  for  its  many  sovereign  virtues  was  quite  a different  thing. 
For  Peter  would  put  in  a certain  quantity  of  his  powder  pimperlim- 
pimp,  after  which  it  never  failed  of  success.  The  operation  was  per- 
formed by  spargefaction  in  a proper  time  of  the  moon.  The  patient 
who  was  to  be  pickled,  if  it  were  a house,  would  infallibly  be  preserved 
from  all  spiders,  rats,  and  weasels  : if  the  party  affected  were  a dog,  he 
should  be  exempt  from  mange,  and  madness,  and  hunger.  It  also  in- 
fallibly took  away  all  scabs  and  lice,  and  scald  heads  from  children, 
never  hindering  the  patient  from  any  duty  either  at  bed  or  board. 

But  of  all  Peter’s  rareties  he  most  valued  a certain  set  of  bulls,  whose 
race  was  by  great  fortune  preserved  in  a lineal  descent  from  those  that 
guarded  the  golden  fleece.  Though  some,  who  pretended  to  observe 
them  curiously,  doubted  the  breed  had  not  been  kept  entirely  chaste, 
because  they  had  degenerated  from  their  ancestors  in  some  qualities, 
and  had  acquired  others  very  extraordinary,  but  a foreign  mixture. 
The  bulls  of  Colchos  are  recorded  to  have  brazen  feet ; but  whether  it 
happened  by  ill  pasture  and  running,  by  an  allay  from  intervention  of 
other  parents,  from  stolen  intrigues  ; whether  a weakness  in  their  pro- 
genitors had  impaired  the  seminal  virtue,  or  by  a decline  necessary 
through  a long  course  of  time,  the  originals  of  nature  being  depraved  in 
these  latter  sinful  ages  of  the  wond ; whatever  was  the  cause,  'tis 


«4 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


certain  that  Lord  Peters  bulls  were  extremely  vitiated  by  the  rust,  of 
time  in  the  metal  of  their  teet.  which  was  now  sunk  into  common  lead. 
However,  the  terrible  roaring  peculiar  to  their  lineage  was  preserved  ; 
as  likewise  that  faculty  of  breathing  out  fire  from  tkeir  nostrils,  which, 
"“nOtwilhstaiTdln^  their 'detractor  s took  to  beaTfeat  of  art,  and 

to  be  nothing  so  terrible  as  it  appeared,  proceeding  only  from  their 
usual  course  of  diet,  which  was  of  squibs  and  crackers.  However,  they 
had  two  peculiar  marks,  which  extremely  distinguished  them  from  the 
Bulls  of  Jason,  and  which  I have  not  met  together  in  the  description  of 
any  other  monster,  beside  that  in  Horace  : 

Varias  inducere  pluma% 
and 

Atrum  desinit  in  piscem. 

^ For  these  had  fishes'  tails,  yet,  upon  occasion,  could  outfly  any  bird  in 
the  air.  Peter  put-these  bu]ls.upLQnseveral  employs:  sometimes  he 
would  set  them  a roaring  to  fright  naughtyl5bys^  and  make  them  quiet. 
Sometimes  he  would  send  them  out  upon  errands  of  great  importance  ; 
where  it  is  wonderful  to  recount — and  perhaps  the  cautious  reader  may 
think  much  to  believe  it — an  appetitus  sensibilis , deriving  itself  through 
the  whole  family,  from  their  noble  ancestors,  guardians  of  the  golden 
fleece  ; they  continued  so  extremely  fond  of  gold,  that  if  Peter  sent  them 
abroad,  though  it  were  only  upon  a compliment,  they  would  roar,  and  spit, 
i and  belch,  and  piss,  and  fart,  and  snivel  out  fire,  and  keep  a perpetual 
coil,  till  you  flung  them  a bit  of  gold  ; but  then  Pulveris  exigui  jactuy 
they  would  grow  calm  and  quiet  as  lambs.  In  short,  whether  by  secret 
connivance,  or  encouragement  from  their  master,  or  out  of  their  own 
liquorish  affection  to  gold,  or  both,  it  is  certain  they  were  no  better  than 
a sort  of  sturdy,  swaggeri rig  beggars  ; and  where  they  could  not  prevail 
to  get  an  alms  would  make  women  miscarry,  and  children  fall  into  fits, 
who,  to  this  very  day,  usually  call  sprites  and  hobgoblins  by  the  name 
of  bull-beggars.  They  grew  at  last  so  very  troublesome  to  the  neighbour- 
hood, that  some  gentlemen  of  the  north-west  got  a parcel  of  right 
English  bulldogs,  and  baited  them  so  terribly  that  they  felt  it  ever  after. 

I must  needs  mention  one  more  of  Lord  Peter’s  projects,  which  was 
very  extraordinary,  and  discovered  him  to  be  master  of  a high  reach 
and  profound  invention.  Whenever  it  happened  that  any  rogue  of 
Newgate  was  condemned  to  be  hanged,  -Peter  would  offer  him  a pardon 
for  a ceTtainr'siifrrbr  money,  which,  wTTen  the  poor  caitiff  had  made  all 
shifts  to  scTape  up  and  sendThfs  lordship  would  return  a piece  of  paper 
in  this  form  : « 

“To  all  Mayors,  Sheriffs,  Jailors,  Constables,  Bailiffs,  Hangmen, 
&c.  Whereas  we  are  informed  that  A B remains  in  the  hands  of  you, 
or  any  of  you,  under  the  sentence  of  death.  We  will  and  command 
you  upon  sight  hereof,  to  let  the  said  prisoner  depart  to  his  own 
habitation,  whether  he  stands  condemned  for  murder,  sodomy,  rape, 
sacrilege,  incest,  treason,  blasphemy,  &c.,  for  which  this  shall  be  your 
sufficient  warrant : And  if  you  fail  hereof,  G — d d — mn  you  and  yours 
to  all  eternity.  And  so  we  bid  you  heartily  farewell. 

“ Your  most  humble  man’s  man, 

“Emperor  Peter.* 


A TALE  OF  A TUB . 


215 


The  wretches  trusting  to  this,  lost  their  lives  and  money  too. 

I desire  of  those  whom  the  learned  among  posterity  will  appoint  for 
commentators  upon  this  elaborate  treatise,  that  they  will  proceed  with 
great  caution  upon  certain  dark  points,  wherein  all  who  are  not  vere 
adepti  may  be  in  danger  to  form  rash  and  hasty  conclusions,  especially 
in  some  mysterious  paragraphs  where  certain  arcana  are  joined  for 
brevity  sake,  which  in  the  operation  must  be  divided.  And,  I am 
certain,  that  future  sons  of  art  will  return  large  thanks  to  my  memory, 
for  so  grateful,  so  useful  an  innuendo. 

It  will  be  no  difficult  part  to  persuade  the  reader  that  so  many  worthy 
discoveries  met  with  great  success  in  the  world,  though  I may  justly 
assure  him  that  I have  related  much  the  smallest  number  ; my  design 
having  been  only  to  single  out  such  as  will  be  of  most  benefit  for  public 
imitation,  or  which  best  served  to  give  some  idea  of  the  reach  and  wit 
of  the  inventor  ; and  therefore  it  need  not  be  wondered,  if  by  this  time, 
Lord  Peter  was  become  exceeding  rich.  But  alas,  he  had  kept  his 
brain  so  long  and  so  violently  upon  the  rack,  that  at  last  it  shook  itself, 
and  began  to  turn  round  for  a little  ease.  In  short,  what  with  pride, 
projects,  and  knavery,  poor  Peter  was  grown  distracted,  and  conceived 
the  strangest  imaginations  in  the  world.  In  the  height  of  his  fits  (as 
it  is  usual  with  those  who  run  mad  out  of  pride),  he  would  call  himself 
God  Almighty,  and  sometimes  Monarch  of  the  Universe.  I have  seen 
him  (says  my  author),  take  three  old  high-crowned  hats,  and  clap  them 
all  on  his  head,  three  storey  high,  with  a huge  bunch  of  keys  at  his 
girdle,  and  an  angling  rod  in  his  hand.  In  which  guise  whoever  went 
to  take  him  by  the  hand  in  the  way  of  salutation,  Peter,  with  much 
grace,  like  a well-educated  spaniel,  would  present  them  with  his  foot, 
and  if  they  refused  his  civility,  then  he  would  raise  it  as  high  as  their 
chops,  and  give  them  a damned  kick  on  the  mouth,  which  hath  ever 
since  been  called  a salute.  Whoever  walked  by,  without  paying  him 
their  compliments,  having  a wonderful  strong  breath,  he  would  blow 
their  hats  off  into  the  dirt.  Meantime,  his  affairs  at  home  went  upside 
down,  and  his  two  brothers  had  a wretched  time,  where  his  first  boutade 
was  to  kick  both  their  wives  one  morning  out  of  doors,  and  his  own 
too,  and  in  their  stead  gave  orders  to  pick  up  the  first  three  strollers 
could  be  met  with  in  the  streets.  A while  after  he  nailed  up  the  cellar 
door,  and  would  not  allow  his  brothers  a drop  of  drink  to  their  victuals. 
Dining  one  day  at  an  alderman’s  in  the  city,  Peter  observed  him  ex- 
patiating after  the  manner  of  his  brethren,  in  the  praises  of  his  sirloin 
of  beef.  “ Beef,”  said  the  sage  magistrate,  “ is  the  king  of  meat ; beef 
comprehends  in  it  the  quintessence  of  partridge,  and  quail,  and  venison, 
and  pheasant,  and  plum-pudding,  and  custard.”  When  Peter  came 
home  he  would  needs  take  the  fancy  of  cooking  up  this  doctrine  into 
use,  and  apply  the  precept  in  default  of  a sirloin  to  his  brown  loaf. 
“ Bread,”  says  he,  “ dear  brothers,  is  the  staff  of  life  ; in  which  bread  is 
contained  inclusive  the  quintessence  of  beef,  mutton,  veal,  venison, 
partridge,  plum-pudding,  and  custard  ; and  to  render  all  complete, 
there  is  intermingled  a due  quantity  of  water,  whose  crudities  are  also 
corrected  by  yeast  or  barm,  through  which  means  it  becomes  a whole- 
some fermented  liquor,  diffused  through  the  mass  of  the  br^ad.”  Upon 
the  strength  of  these  conclusions,  next  day  at  dinner  wi  the  brown 


210 


DEAN  SHIFTS  WORKS. 


loaf  served  up  in  all  the  formality  of  a city  feast.  “ Come  brothers,”  said 
Peter,  “ fall  to,  and  spare  not ; here  is  excellent  good  mutton ; or  hold, 
now  my  hand  is  in,  Pll  help  you.”  At  which  word,  in  much  ceremony, 
with  fork  and  knife,  he  carves  out  two  good  slices  of  a lpaf,  and  presents 
each  on  a plate  to  his  brothers.  The  elder  of  the  two,  not  suddenly 
entering  into  Lord  Peter’s  conceit,  began  with  very  civil  language  to 
examine  the  mystery.  “My  lord,”  said  he,  “ I doubt  with  great  submission 
there  may  be  some  mistake.”  “ What,”  says  Peter,  “ you  are  pleasant ; 
come  then,  let  us  hear  this  jest  your  head  is  so  big  with.”  “ None  in  the 
world,  my  lord  ; but  unless  I am  very  much  deceived,  your  lordship 
was  pleased  a while  ago  to  let  fall  a word  about  mutton,  and  I would 
be  glad  to  see  it  with  all  my  heart.”  “ How,”  said  Peter,  appearing  in 

great  surprise,  I do  not  comprehend  this  at  all .”  Upon  which,  the 

younger  interposing  to  set  the  business  right ; “ My  lord,’  said  he,  1 my 
brother,  I suppose,  is  hungry,  and  longs  for  the  mutton  your  lordship 
hath  promised  us  to  dinner.”  “ Pray,”  said  Peter,  “ take  me  along 
with  you,  either  you  are  both  mad  or  disposed  to  be  merrier  than  I 
approve  of ; if  you  there  do  not  like  your  piece  I will  carve  you  another, 
though  I should  take  that  to  be  the  choice  bit  of  the  whole  shoulder.” 
“ What  then,  my  lord,”  replied  the  first,  “ it  seems  this  is  a shoulder  of 
mutton  all  this  while.”  “ Pray,  sir,”  says  Peter,  “ eat  your  victuals  and 
leave  off  your  impertinence,  if  you  please,  for  I am  not  disposed  to 
relish  it  at  present.”  But  the  other  could  not  forbear,  being  over- 
provoked at  the  affected  seriousness  of  Peter’s  countenance.  ‘ By 

G , my  lord,”  said  he,  “ I can  only  say,  tha't  to  my  eyes,  and  fingers, 

and  teeth,  and  nose,  it  seems  to  be  nothing  but  a crust  of  bread.” 
Upon  which  the  second  put  in  his  word  ; “ I never  saw  a piece  of 
mutton  in  my  life  so  nearly  resembling  a slice  from  a twelve-penny 
loaf.”  “ Look  ye,  gentlemen,”  cries  Peter  in  a rage,  “ to  convince  you 
what  a couple  of  blind,  positive,  ignorant,  wilful  puppies  you  are,  I will 
use  but  this  plain  argument  ; by  G ■■■  it  is  true,  good,  natural  mutton 
as  any  in  Leadenhall  Market  ; and  G confound  you  both  eter- 

nally if  you  offer  to  believe  otherwise  ” Such  a thundering  proof  as 
this  left  no  further  room  for  objection  ; the  two  unbelievers  began  to 
gather  and  pocket  up  their  mistake  as  hastily  as  they  could.  “ Why, 
truly,”  said  the  first,  “upon  more  mature  consideration—”  “ Ay,”  says 
the  other,  interrupting  him,  “ now  I have  thought  better  on  the  thing, 
your  lordship  seems  to  have  a great  deal  of  reason.”  “ Very  well,”  said 
Peter.  “ Here,  boy,  fill  me  a beer-glass  of  claret  ; here’s  to  you  both 
with  all  my  heart.”  The  two  brethren  much  delighted  to  see  him  so 
readily  appeased  returned  their  most  humble  thanks,  and  said  they 
would  be  glad  to  pledge  his  lordship.  “ That  you  shall,”  said  Peter, 
“ I am  not  a person  to  refuse  you  anything  that  is  reasonable  ; wine 
moderately  taken  is  a cordial ; here  is  a glass  apiece  for  you  ; tis  true 
natural  juice  from  the  grape  ; none  of  your  damned  vintner’s  brewings.” 
Having  spoke  thus  he  presented  to  each  of  them  another  large  dry 
crust,  bidding  them  drink  it  off,  and  not  be  bashful,  for  it  would  do 
them  no  hurt.  The  two  brothers,  after  haying  performed  the  usual 
office  in  such  delicate  conjunctures,  of  staring  a sufficient  period  at 
Lord  Peter  and  each  other,  and  finding  how  matters  were  like  to  go, 
resolved  not  to  enter  on  a new  dispute,  but  let  him  carry  the  point  as 


A TALE  OF  A TUB. 


217 


he  pleased  ; for  he  was  now  got  into  one  of  his  mad  fits,  and  to  argue 
or  expostulate  further  would  only  serve  to  render  him  a hundred  times 
more  untractable. 

I have  chosen  to  relate  this  worthy  matter  in  all  its  circumstances, 
because  it  gave  a principal  occasion  to  that  great  and  famous  rupture 
which  happened  about  the  same  time  among  these  brethren,  and  was 
never  afterwards  made  up.  But  of  that  I shall  treat  at  large  in  anothei 
section. 

However,  it  is  certain  that  Lord  Peter,  even  in  his  lucid  intervals, 
was  very  lewdly  given  in  his  common  conversation,  extreme  wilful  and 
positive,  and  would  at  any  time  rather  argue  to  the  death  than  allow 
nimself  to  be  once  in  an  error.  Besides,  he  had  an  abominable  faculty 
of  telling  huge  palpable  lies  upon  all  occasions,  and  swearing,  not  only 
to  the  truth,  but  cursing  the  whole  company  to  hell  if  they  pretended 
to  make  the  least  scruple  of  believing  him.  One  time  he  swore  he  had 
a cow  at  home  which  gave  as  much  milk  at  a meal  as  would  fill  three 
thousand  churches,  and  what  was  yet  more  extraordinary,  would  never 
turn  sour.  Another  time  he  was  tdling  of  an  old  sign-post  that  be- 
longed to  his  father,  with  nails  and  timber  enough  on  it  to  build  sixteen 
large  men-of-war.  Talking  one  day  of  Chinese  waggons,  which  were 
made  so  light  as  to  sail  over  mountains — “ Z — nds,”  said  Peter,  “where’s 

the  wonder  of  that  ? By  G , I saw  a large  house  of  lime  and  stone 

travel  over  sea  and  land  (granting  that  it  stopped  sometimes  to  bait) 
above  two  thousand  German  leagues.”  And  that  which  was  the  good 
of  it,  he  would  swear  desperately  all  the  while  that  he  never  told 

a lie  in  his  life  ; and  at  every  word,  “ By  G , gentlemen,  I tell  you 

nothing  but  the  truth  ; and  the  d — 1 broil  them  eternally  that  will  not 
believe  me.” 

ex  In  short,  Peter  grew  so  scandalous  that  all  the  neighbourhood  began 
in  plain  words  to^say  he  was  no  better  than  a knave.  And  his  two 
brothers,  long  weary  of  his  ill-usage,  resolved  at  last  to  leave  him  ; but 
first,  they  humbly  desired  a copy  of  their  father’s  will,  which  had  now 
lain  by  neglected  time  out  of  mind.  Instead  of  granting  this  request 
he  called  them  damned  sons  of  whores,  rogues,  traitors,  and  the  rest 
of  the  vile  names  he  could  muster  up.  However,  while  he  was  abroad 
one  day  upon  his  projects,  the  two  youngsters  watched  their  opportunity, 
made  a shift  to  come  at  the  will,  and  took  a copia  vera , by  which  they 
presently  saw  how  grossly  they  had  been  abused  ; their  father  having 
•left  them  equal  heirs,  and  strictly  commanded  that  whatever  they  got 
should  lie  in  common  among  them  all.  Pursuant  to  which  their  next 
enterprise  was  to  break  open  the  cellar-door,  and  get  a little  good  drink 
to  spirit  and  comfort  their  hearts.  In  copying  the  will  they  had  met 
another  precept  against  whoring,  divorce,  and  separate  maintenance  ; 
upon  which  their  next  work  was  to  discard  their  concubines  and  send 
for  their  wives.  Whilst  all  this  was  in  agitation  there  enters  a solicitor 
from  Newgate,  desiring  Lord  Peter  would  please  to  procure  a pardon 
for  a thief  that  was  to  be  hanged  to-morrow.  But  the  two  brothers 
told  him  he  was  a coxcomb  to  seek  pardons  from  a fellow  who  deserved 
to  be  hanged  much  better  than  his  client,  and  discovered  all  the  method 
ot  that  imposture  in  the  same  form  I delivered  it  a while  ago,  advising 
the  solicitor  to  put  his  triend  upon  obtaining  a pardon  tr  un  the  king 


21$ 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


In  the  midst  of  all  this  clutter  and  revolution  in  comes  Peter  with  a 
file  of  dragoons  at  his  heels,  and  gathering  from  all  hands  what  was  in 
the  wind,  he  and  his  gang,  after  several  millions  of  scurrilities  and 
curses,  not  very  important  here  to  repeat,  by  main  force,  very  fairly 
kicks  them  both  out  of  doors,  and  would  never  let  them  come  under 
his  roof  from  that  day  to  this. 

SECTION  V. 

A Digression  in  the  Modem  Kind. 

WE  whom  the  world  is  pleased  to  honour  with  the  title  of  modem 
authors,  should  never  have  been  able  to  compass  our  great 
design  of  an  everlasting  remembrance  and  never-dying  fame  if  our 
endeavours  had  not  been  so  highly  serviceable  to  the  general  good  of 
mankind.  This,  O universe,  is  the  adventurous  attempt  of  me  thy 
secretary, — 

——  Quemvis  perferre  laborem 

Suadet,  et  inducit  noctes  vigilare  serenas.  « 

To  this  end  I have  some  time  since,  with  a world  of  pains  and  art, 
dissected  the  carcass  of  human  nature,  and  read  many  useful  lectures 
upon  the  several  parts,  both  containing  and  contained,  till  at  last  it 
smelt  so  strong  I could  preserve  it  no  longer.  Upon  which  I have 
been  at  a great  expense  to  fit  up  all  the  bones  with  exact  contexture 
and  in  due  symmetry  ; so  that  I am  ready  to  show  a very  complete 
anatomy  thereof  to  all  curious  gentlemen  and  others.  But  not  to 
digress  farther  in  the  midst  of  a digression,  as  I have  known  some 
authors  enclose  digressions  in  one  another  like  a nest  of  boxes,  I do 
affirm,  that  having  carefully  cut  up  human  nature,  I have  found  a very 
strange,  new,  and  important  discovery,  that  the  public  good  of  mankind 
is  performed  by  two  ways,  instruction  and  diversion.  And  I have 
farther  proved  in  my  said  several  readings  (which,  perhaps,  the  world 
may  one  day  see,  if  I can  prevail  on  any  friend  to  steal  a copy,  or  on 
certain  gentlemen  of  my  admirers,  to  be  very  importunate),  that,  as 
mankind  is  now  disposed,  he  receives  much  greater  advantage  by  being 
diverted  than  instructed  ; his  epidemical  diseases  being  fastidiosity, 
amorphy,  and  oscitation  ; whereas  in  the  present  universal  empire  of 
wit  and  learning  there  seems  but  little  matter  left  for  instruction. 
However,  in  compliance  with  a lesson  of  great  age  and  authority,  I 
have  attempted  carrying  the  point  in  all  its  heights  ; and,  accordingly, 
throughout  this  divine  treatise,  have  skilfully  kneaded  up  both  together 
with  a layer  of  utile  and  a layer  of  dulce . 

When  I consider  how  exceedingly  our  illustrious  moderns  have 
eclipsed  the  weak  glimmering  lights  of  the  ancients,  and  turned  them 
out  of  the  road  of  all  fashionable  commeice,  to  a degree  that  our  choice 
town  wits  of  most  refined  accomplishments  are  in  grave  dispute  whether 
there  have  been  ever  any  ancients  or  no  ; in  which  point  we  are  like 
to  receive  wonderful  satisfaction  from  the  most  useful  labours  and 
lucubrations  of  that  worthy  modern,  Dr.  B tly: — I say,  when  I con- 

sider all  this,  I cannot  but  bewail  that  no  famous  modern  hath  ever 
yet  attempted  an  universal  system  in  a small  portable  volume,  of  all 


A TALE  OF  A TUB. 


*?$ 

things  that  are  to  be  known,  or  believed,  or  imagined,  or  practised  in 
life.  I am,  however,  forced  to  acknowledge  that  such  an  enterprise 
was  thought  on  some  time  ago  by  a great  philosopher  of  O.  Brazile. 
The  method  he  proposed  was  by  a certain  curious  receipt,  a nostrum, 
which  after  his  untimely  death  I found  among  his  papers,  and  do  here, 
out  of  my  great  affection  to  the  modern  learned,  present  them  with  it, 
not  doubting  it  may  one  day  encourage  some  worthy  undertaker. 

u You  take  fair  correct  copies,  well  bound  in  calf's  skin,  and  lettered 
at  the  back,  of  all  modern  bodies  of  arts  and  sciences  whatsoever,  and 
in  what  language  you  please.  These  you  distil  in  balneo  Marice , in- 
fusing quintessence  of  poppy  Q.  S.  together  with  three  pints  of  Lethe, 
to  be  had  from  the  apothecaries.  You  cleanse  away  carefully  the 
sordes  and  caput  mortuum , letting  all  that  is  volatile  evaporate.  You 
preserve  only  the  first  running,  which  is  again  to  be  distilled  seventeen 
times,  till  what  remains  will  amount  to  about  two  drams.  This  you 
keep  in  a glass  vial  hermetically  sealed  for  one-and-twenty  days.  Then 
you  begin  your  Catholic  Treatise,  taking  every  morning,  fasting  (first 
shaking  the  vial),  three  drops  of  this  elixir,  snuffing  it  strongly  up 
your  nose.  It  will  dilate  itself  about  the  brain  (where  there  is  any)  in 
fourteen  minutes,  and  you  immediately  perceive  in  your  head  an  in- 
finite number  of  abstracts,  summaries,  compendiums,  extracts,  collec- 
tions, medulla's,  excerpta  quaedam's,  florilega's,  and  the  like,  all  dis- 
posed into  great  order,  and  reducible  upon  paper." 

I must  needs  own  it  was  by  the  assistance  of  this  Arcanum  that  I, 
though  otherwise  impar , have  adventured  upon  so  daring  an  attempt, 
neyer . achieved  or  undertaken  before  but  by  a certain  author  called 
Homer,  in  whom,  though  otherwise  a person  not  without  seme  abilities, 
and:  for  an  ancient,  of  a tolerable  genius,  I have  discovered  many  gross 
errors,  which  are  not  to  be  forgiven  his  very  ashes,  if  by  chance  any  of 
them  are  left.  For  whereas,  we  are  assured,  he  designed  his  Work  for 
a '*  complete  body  of  all  knowledge,  human,  divine,  political,  and 
mechanic,  it  is  manifest  he  hath  wholly  neglected  some,  and  been 
very  imperfect  in  the  rest  For,  first  of  all,  as  eminent  a cabalist  as 
his  disciples  would  represent  him,  his  account  of  the  Opus  magnum  is 
extremely  poor  and  deficient , he  seems  to  have  read  but  very  super- 
ficially either  Sendivogius,  Behmen , or  Anthropo sophia  Theomagica . 
He  is  also  quite  mistaken  about  the  Sphcera  Pyroplastica,  a neglect  not 
to  be  atoned  for  ; and  (if  the  reader  will  admit  so  severe  a censure), 
vix  creaerem  autorem  hunc , unquam  audivisse  ignis  vocem . His  fail- 
ings are  not  less  prominent  in  several  parts  of  the  mechanics.  For, 
having  read  his  writings  with  the  utmost  application  usual  among 
modern  wits,  I could  never  yet  discover  the  least  direction  about  the 
structure  of  that  useful  instrument,  a Save-all.  For  want  of  which,  if 
the  moderns  had  not  lent  their  assistance,  we  might  have  yet  wandered 
in  the  dark.  But  I have  still  behind  a fault  far  more  notorious  to  tax 
this  author  with  ; I mean,  his  gross  ignorance  in  the  common  laws  of 
this  realm,  and  in  the  doctrine  as  well  as  discipline  of  the  Church  of 
England.  A defect,  indeed,  for  which  both  he  and  all  the  ancients 
stand  most  justly  censured  by  my  worthy  and  ingenious  friend  Mr. 

• Homerus  omnes  res  humanas  Poematis  complexus  est.— Xenoph.  in  Conviv* 


220 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


W — tt — on,  Bachelor  of  Divinity,  in  his  incomparable  Treatise  of 
Ancient  and  Modern  Learning  ; a book  never  to  be  sufficiently  valued, 
whether  we  consider  the  happy  turns  and  flowings  of  the  author’s  wit,' 
the  great  usefulness  of  his  sublime  discoveries  upon  the  subject  of  flies 
and  spittle,  or  the  laborious  eloquence  of  his  style.  And  I cannot  for- 
bear doing  that  author  the  justice  of  my  public  acknowledgments,  for 
the  great  helps  and  liftings  I had  out  of  his  incomparable  piece  while 
I was  penning  this  treatise. 

But,  besides  these  omissions  in  Homer  already  mentioned,  the  curious 
reader  will  also  observe  several  defects  in  that  author’s  writings  for 
which  he  is  not  altogether  so  accountable.  For,  whereas  every  branch 
of  knowledge  has  received  such  wonderful  acquirements  since  his  age, 
especially  within  these  last  three  years,  or  thereabouts,  it  is  almost 
impossible  he  could  be  so  very  perfect  in  modern  discoveries  as  his 
advocates  pretend.  We  freely  acknowledge  him  to  be  the  inventor  of 
the  compass,  of  gun-powder,  and  the  circulation  of  the  blood  ; but  I 
challenge  any  of  his  admirers  to  show  me  in  all  his  writings'acomplete 
Account  of  the  Spleen.  Does  he  not  also  leave  us  wholly  to  seek  in 
the  art  of  Political  Wagering  ? What  can  be  more  defective  and  un- 
satisfactory than  his  long  Dissertation  upon  Tea  ? and  as  to  his  Method 
of  Salivation  without  Mercury,  so  much  celebrated  of  late,  it  is  to  my 
own  knowledge  and  experience  a thing  very  little  to  be  relied  on. 

It  was  to  supply  such  momentous  defects  that  I have  been  prevailed 
on,  after  long  solicitation,  to  take  pen  in  hand ; and  I dare  venture  to 
promise  the  judicious  reader  shall  find  nothing  neglected  here  that  can 
be  of  use  upon  any  emergency  of  life.  I am  confident  to  have  included 
and  exhausted  all  that  human  imagination  can  rise  or  fall  to.  Particu- 
larly, I recommend  to  the  perusal  of  the  learned  certain  discoveries 
that  are  wholly  untouched  by  others  ; whereof  1 shall  only  mention, 
among  a great  many  more,  my  New  Help  of  Smatterers,  or  the  Art 
of  being  Deep-learned,  and  Shallow-read  ; A curious  Invention  about 
Mouse  Traps  ; An  Universal  Rule  of  Reason,  or  Every  Man  his  own 
Carver  ; together  with  a most  useful  Engine  for  catching  of  Owls.  All 
which  the  judicious  reader  will  find  largely  treated  on  in  the  several 
parts  of  this  discourse. 

I hold  myself  obliged  to  give  as  mtich  light  as  is  possible  into  the 
beauties  and  excellencies  of  what  I am  writing,  because  it  is  become 
the  fashion  and  humour  most  applauded  among  the  first  authors  of 
this  polite  and  learned  age,  when  they  would  correct  the  ill  nature  of 
critical,  or  inform  the  ignorance  of  courteous  readers.  Besides,  there 
have  been  several  famous  pieces  lately  published,  both  in  verse  and 
prose,  wherein,  if  the  writers  had  not  been  pleased,  out  of  their  great 
humanity  and  affection  to  the  public,  to  give  us  a nice  detail  of  the 
sublime  and  the  admirable  they  contain,  it  is  a thousand  to  one  whether 
we  should  ever  have  discovered  one  grain  of  either.  For  my  own  par- 
ticular, I cannot  deny  that  whatever  I have  said  upon  this  occasion 
had  been  more  proper  in  a preface,  and  more  agreeable  to  the  mode 
which  usually  directs  it  there.  But  I here  think  fit  to  lay  hold  on  that 
great  and  honourable  privilege  of  being  the  last  writer  ; I claim  an 
absolute  authority  in  right,  as  the  freshest  modern,  which  gives  me  a 
oespotic  power  over  all  authors  before  me.  In  the  strength  of  which 


A TALE  OF  A TUB . 

title  T do  utterly  disapprove  and  declare  against  tTi at  pernicious  custo. 
of  making  the  preface  a bill  of  fare  to  the  book.  For  I have  always 
looked  upon  it  as  a high  point  of  indiscretion  in  monster-mongers,  and 
otner  retailers  of  strange  sights,  to  hang  out  a fair  large  picture  over 
the  door,  drawn  after  the  life,  with  a most  eloquent  description  under- 
neath. This  hath  saved  me  many  a threepence,  for  my  curiosity  was 
fully  satisfied,  and  I never  offered  to  go  in,  though  often  invited  by  the 
urging  and  attending  orator,  with  his  last  moving  and  standing  piece 
of  rhetoric  : “ Sir,  upon  my  word,  we  are  just  going  to  begin/’  Such  is 
exactly  the  fate,  at  this  time,  of  prefaces,  epistles,  advertisements,  intro- 
ductions, prolegomenas,  apparatuses,  to-the-readers’s.  This  expedient 
was  admirable  at  first  ; our  great  Dryden  has  long  carried  it  as  far  as 
it  would  go,  and  with  incredible  success.  He  has  often  said  to  me  in 
confidence  that  the  world  would  have  never  suspected  him  to  be  so 
great  a poet,  if  he  had  not  assured  them  so  frequently  in  his  prefaces 
that  it  was  impossible  they  could  either  doubt  or  forget  it.  Perhaps  it 
may  be  so  ; however,  I much  fear  his  instructions  have  edified  out  of 
their  place,  and  taught  men  to  grow  wiser  in  certain  points,  where  he 
never  intended  they  should  ; for  it  is  lamentable  to  behold  with  what  a 
lazy  scorn  many  of  the  yawning  readers  in  our  age  do  now-a-days  twirl 
over  forty  or  fifty  pages  of  preface  and  dedication  (which  is  the  usual 
modern  stint)  as  if  it  were  so  much  Latin.  Though  it  must  be  also 
allowed  on  the  other  hand,  that  a very  considerable  number  are  known 
to  proceed  critics  and  wits,  by  reading  nothing  else.  Into  which  two 
factions,  I think,  all  present  readers  may  justly  be  divided.  Now,  for 
myself,  I profess  to  be  of  the  former  sort,  and  therefore,  having  the 
modern  inclination  to  expatiate  upon  the  beauty  of  my  own  productions, 
and  display  the  bright  parts  of  my  discourse,  I thought  best  to  do  it  in  j 
the  body  of  the  work,  where,  as  it  now  lies,  it  makes  a very  considerable 
addition  to  the  bulk  of  the  volume,  a circumstance  by  no  means  to  be 
neglected  by  a skilful  writer. 

Having  thus  paid  my  due  deference  and  acknowledgment  to  an 
established  custom  of  our  newest  authors,  by  a long  digression  unsought 
.for,  and  an  universal  censure  unprovoked,  by  forcing  into  the  lights 
with  much  pains  and  dexterity,  my  own  excellencies  and  other  men’s 
defaults,  with  great  justice  to  myself  and  candour  to  them,  I now  ' 
happily  resume  my  subject,  to  the  infinite  satisfaction  both  of  the  reader 
and  the  author. 

SECTION  VI. 

WE  left  Lord  Peter  in  open  rupture  with  his  two  brethren,  both  for 
ever  discarded  from  his  house  and  resigned  to  the  wide  world,  with 
little  or  nothing  to  trust  to — which  are  circumstances  that  render  them 
proper  subjects  for  the  charity  of  a writer’s  pen  to  work  on  ; scenes  of 
misery  ever  affording  the  fairest  harvest  for  great  adventures.  And  in 
this,  the  world  may  perceive  the  difference  between  the  integrity  of  a 
generous  author  and  that  of  a common  friend.  The  latter  is  observed 
to  adhere  close  in  prosperity,  but  on  the  decline  of.  fortune  to  drop 
suddenly  off  Whereas,  the  generous  author,  just  on  the  contrary,  finds 
his  hero  on  the  dunghill,  from  thence,  by  gradual  steps,  raises  him  to  a 


z o DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS . 

^Xrone,and  then  immediately  withdraws, expecting  not  so  much  as  thanks 
for  his  pains;  in  imitation  of  which  example,  I have  placed  Lord  Peter 
in  a noble  house,  given  him  a title  to  wear,  and  money  to  spend.  There 
I shall  leave  him  for  some  time  ; returning  where  common  charity 
directs  me,  to  the  assistance  of  his  two  brothers,  at  their  lowest  ebb. 
However,  I shall  by  no  means  forget  my  character  of  an  historian,  to 
follow  the  truth  step  by  step,  whatever  happens,  or  wherever  it  may 
lead  me. 

The  two  exiles,  so  nearly  united  in  fortune  and  interest,  took  a 
lodging  together,  where,  at  their  first  leisure,  they  began  to  reflect  on 
the  numberless  misfortunes  and  vexations  of  their  life  past,  and  could 
not  tell,  on  the  sudden,  to  what  failure  in  their  conduct  they  ought  to 
impute  them  ; when,  after  some  recollection,  they  called  to  mind  the 
copy  of  their  father's  will  which  they  had  so  happily  recovered.  This 
was  immediately  produced,  and  a firm  resolution  taken  between  them, 
to  alter  whatever  was  already  amiss,  and  reduce  all  their  future 
measures  to  the  strictest  obedience  prescribed  therein.  The  main 
body  of  the  will  (as  the  reader  cannot  easily  have  forgot)  consisted  in 
certain  admirable  rules  about  the  wearing  of  their  coats,  in  the 
perusal  whereof,  the  two  brothers  at  every  period  duly  comparing  the 
doctrine  with  the  practice,  there  was  never  seen  a wider  difference  be- 
tween two  things  ; horrible  downright  transgressions  of  every  point 
Upon  which  they  both  resolved,  without  further  delay,  to  fall  imme- 
diately upon  reducing  the  whole,  exactly  after  their  father’s  model. 

But  here  it  is  good  to  stop  the  hasty  reader,  ever  impatient  to  see 
the  end  of  an  adventure,  before  we  writers  can  duly  prepare  him  for  it 
I am  to  record  that  these  two  brothers  began  to  be  distinguished  at  this 
time  by  certain  names.  One  of  them  desired  to  be  called  Martin, 
and  the  other  took  the  appellation  of  Jack.  These  two  had  lived  in 
much  friendship  and  agreement  under  the  tyranny  of  their  brother 
Peter,  as  it  is  the  talent  of  fellow-sufferers  to  do,  men  in  misfortune 
being  like  men  in  the  dark,  to  whom  all  colours  are  the  same  ; but 
when  they  came  forward  into  the  world,  and  began  to  display 
themselves  to  each  other,  and  to  the  light,  their  complexions  appeared 
extremely  different  ; which  the  present  posture  of  their  affairs  gave 
them  sudden  opportunity  to  discover. 

But  here  the  severe  reader  may  justly  tax  me  as  a writer  of  short 
memory,  a deficiency  to  which  a true  modern  cannot  but  of  necessity 
be  a little  subject ; because,  memory  being  an  employment  of  the  mind 
upon  things  past,  is  a faculty  for  which  the  learned,  in  our  illustrious 
age,  have  no  manner  of  occasion,  who  deal  entirely  with  invention,  and 
strike  all  things  out  of  themselves,  or  at  least,  by  collision,  from  each 
other  ; upon  which  account  we  think  it  highly  reasonable  to  produce 
our  great  forgetfulness  as  an  argument  unanswerable  for  our  great  wit. 
1 ought,  in  method,  to  have  informed  the  reader,  about  fifty  pages  ago,  of 
a fancy  Lord  Peter  took,  and  infused  into  his  brothers,  to  wear  on  their 
coats  whatever  trimmings  came  up  in  fashion,  never  pulling  off  any, 
as  they  went  out  of  the  mode,  but  keeping  on  all  together  ; which 
amounted  in  time  to  a medley,  the  most  antic  you  can  possibly  con- 
ceive ; and  this  to  a degree,  that  upon  the  time  of  their  falling  out 
there  Ivas  hardly  a thread  of  the  original  coat  to  be  seen,  but  an  in* 


A TALE  OF  A TUB. 


%v\ 

finite  quantity  of  lace,  and  ribands,  and  fringe,  and  embroidery,  and 
points  (I  mean  only  those  tagged  with  silver,  for  the  rest  fell  off). 
Now,  this  material  circumstance,  having  been  forgot  in  due  place,  as 
good  fortune  hath  ordered,  comes  in  very  properly  here,  when  the  two 
brothers  are  just  going  to  reform  their  vestures  into  the  primitive  state 
prescribed  by  their  father's  will. 

They  both  unanimously  entered  upon  this  great  work,  looking  some- 
times on  their  coats,  and  sometimes  on  the  will.  Martin  laid  the  first 
hand  ; at  one  twitch  brought  off  a large  handful  of  points,  and  with  a 
second  pull  stript  away  ten  dozen  yards  of  fringe.  But  when  he  had 
gone  thus  far,  he  demurred  awhile.  He  knew  very  well  there  yet  re- 
mained a great  deal  more  to  be  done ; however,  the  first  heat  being 
over,  his  violence  began  to  cool,  and  he  resolved  to  proceed  more 
moderately  in  the  rest  of  the  work  ; having  already  very  narrowly 
scaped  a swinging  rent  in  pulling  off  the  points,  which,  being  tagged 
with  silver  (as  we  have  observed  before),  the  judicious  workman  had 
with  much  sagacity  double  sewn,  to  preserve  them  from  falling.  Re- 
solving therefore  to  rid  his  coat  of  a huge  quantity  of  gold  lace,  he 
picked  up  the  stitches  with  much  caution,  and  diligently  gleaned  out 
all  the  loose  threads  as  he  went,  which  proved  to  be  a work  of  time. 
Then  he  fell  about  the  embroidered  Indian  figures  of  men,  women,  and 
children,  against  which,  as  you  have  heard  in  its  due  place,  their 
father's  testament  was  extremely  exact  and  severe.  These,  with  much 
dexterity  and  application,  were  after  a while  quite  eradicated,  or 
utterly  defaced.  For  the  rest,  where  he  observed  the  embroidery  to  be 
worked  so  close  as  not  to  be  got  away  without  damaging  the  cloth,  or 
where  it  served  to  hide  or  strengthen  any  flaw  in  the  body  of  the  coat, 
contracted  by  the  perpetual  tampering  of  workmen  upon  it ; he  con- 
cluded the  wisest  course  was  to  let  it  remain,  resolving  in  no  case 
whatsoever  that  the  substance  of  the  stuff  should  suffer  injury  ; which 
he  thought  the  best  method  for  serving  the  true  intent  and  meaning  of 
•his  father’s  will.  And  this  is  the  nearest  account  I have  been  able  to 
collect  of  Martin's  proceedings  upon  this  great  revolution. 

But  his  brother  Jack,  whose  adventures  will  be  so  extraordinary  as 
to  furnish  a great  part  in  the  remainder  of  this  discourse,  entered  upon 
the  matter  with  other  thoughts,  and  a quite  different  spirit ; for  the 
memory  of  Lord  Peter's  injuries  produced  a degree  of  hatred  and 
spite  which  had  a much  greater  share  of  inciting  him  that  any  regards 
after  his  father's  commands,  since  these  appeared,  at  best,  only 
secondary  and  subservient  to  the  other.  However,  for  this  medley  of 
humour,  he  made  a shift  to  find  a very  plausible  name,  honouring  it 
with  the  title  of  zeal ; which  is,  perhaps,  the  most  significant  word  that 
hath  been  ever  yet  produced  in  any  language  ; as,  I think,  I have  fully 
proved  in  my  excellent  analytical  discourse  upon  that  subject ; wherein 
I have  deduced  a Histori-theo-physi-Iogical  account  of  zeal,  showing 
how  it  first  proceeded  from  a notion  into  a word,  and  from  thence  in  a 
hot  summer,  ripened  into  a tangible  substance.  This  work,  containing 
three  large  volumes  in  folio,  I design  very  shortly  to  publish  by  the 
modern  way  of  subscription,  not  doubting  but  the  nobility  and  gentry 
of  the  land  will  give  me  all  possible  encouragement,  having  already  had 
such  a taste  of  what  I am  able  to  perform. 


224 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


I record,  therefore,  that  brother  Jack,  brimful  of  this  miraculous 
compound,  reflecting  with  indignation  upon  Peters  tyranny,  and  farther 
provoked  by  the  despondency  of  Martin,  prefaced  his  resolutions  to 
this  purpose.  “ What  !”  said  he,  “ a rogue  that  locked  up  his  drink, 
turned  away  our  wives,  cheated  us  of  our  fortunes,  palmed  his  damned 
\ crusts  upon  us  for  mutton  ; and  at  last  kicked  us  out  of  doors  ; must 
we  be  in  his  fashions  with  a pox  ? — a rascal,  besides,  that  all  the  street 
cries  out  against.”  Having  thus  kindled  and  inflamed  himself  as  high 
as  possible,  and  by  consequence,  in  a delicate  temper  for  beginning  a 
reformation,  he  set  about  the  work  immediately,  and  in  three  minutes 
made  more  dispatch  than  Martin  had  done  in  as  many  hours.  For 
(courteous  reader)  you  are  given  to  understand,  that  zeal  is  never  so 
highly  obliged,  as  when  you  set  it  a tearing  ; and  Jack,  who  doated  on 
that  quality  in  himself,  allowed  it  at  this  time  its  full  swing.  Thus  it 
happened  that,  stripping  down  a parcel  of  gold  lace  a little  too  hastily, 
he  rent  the  main  body  of  his  coat  from  top  to  bottom  ; and  whereas 
his  talent  was  not  of  the  happiest  in  taking  up  a stitch,  he  knew 
no  better  way  than  to  darn  it  again  with  packthread  and  a skewer. 
But  the  matter  was  yet  infinitely  worse  (I  record  it  with  tears)  when 
he  proceeded  to  the  embroidery  ; for,  being  clumsy  by  nature,  and  of 
temper,  impatient,  with  all,  beholding  millions  of  stitches,  that  required 
the  nicest  hand  and  sedatest  constitution  to  extricate  ; in  a great  rage 
he  tore  off  the  whole  piece,  cloth  and  all,  and  flung  it  into  the  kennel, 
and  furiously  thus  continuing  his  career.  “Ah  ! good  brother 
Martin,”  said  he,  “do  as  I do,  for  the  love  of  God  ; strip,  tear,  pull, 
rent,  flay  off  all,  that  we  may  appear  as  unlike  that  rogue  Peter  as  it  is 
possible  ; I would  not  for  a hundred  pounds  carry  the  least  mark  about 
me,  that  might  give  occasion  to  the  neighbours  of  suspecting  I was  re- 
lated to  such  a rascal.”  But  Martin,  who  at  this  time  happened  to  be 
extremely  phlegmatic  and  sedate,  begged  his  brother  of  all  love,  not 
to  damage  his  coat  by  any  means,  for  he  never  would  get  such  another  ; 
desired  him  to  consider,  that  it  was  not  their  business  to  form  their 
actions  by  any  reflection  upon  Peter,  but  by  observing  the  rules  pre-~ 
scribed  in  their  father’s  will.  That  he  should  remember  Peter  was  still 
their  brother,  whatever  faults  or  injuries  he  had  committed  ; and  there- 
fore they  should  by  all  means  avoid  such  a thought  as  that  of  taking 
measures  for  good  and  evil  from  no  other  rule  than  of  opposition 
to  him.  That  it  was  true  the  testament  of  their  good  father  was  very 
exact  in  what  related  to  the  wearing  of  their  coats  ; yet  was  it  no  less 
penal  and  strict  in  prescribing  agreement,  and  friendship,  and  affection 
between t them  ; and  therefore,  if  straining  a point  were  at  all  dispen- 
sable, it  would  certainly  be  so,  rather  to  the  advance  of  unity,  than  in- 
crease of  contradiction. 

Martin  had  still  proceeded  as  gravely  as  he  began  ; and  doubtless 
would  have  delivered  an  admirable  lecture  of  morality,  which  might 
have  exceedingly  contributed  to  my  reader’s  repose,  both  of  body  and 
mind  (the  true  ultimate  end  of  ethics)  : but  Jack  was  already  gone  a 
flight-shot  beyond  his  patience.  And.  as  in  scholastic  disputes  nothing 
serves  to  rouse  the  spleen  of  him  that  opposes  so  much  as  a kind  ot 
pedantic  affected  calmness  in  the  respondent  ; disputants  being  lor  the 
most  part  like  unequal  scales,  where  tne  gravity  of  one  side  advances 


A TALE  OF  A TUB \ 


t*5 

the  lightness  of  the  other,  and  causes  it  to  fly  up  and  kick  the  beam  ; 
so  it  happened  here,  that  the  weight  of  Martin’s  argument  exalted 
Jack’s  levity,  and  made  him  fly  out  and  spurn  against  his  brother’s 
moderation.  In  short,  Martin’s  patience  put  Jack  in  a rage  ; but  that 
which  most  afflicted  him  vva^To^oTDser ve  fits"  brother’s  coat  so  well 
reduced  into  the  state  of  innocence  ; while  his  own  was  either  wholly 
rent  to  his  shirt  ; or  those^pIaceS  which  had  scaped  his  cruel  clutches, 
were  still  in  Peter’s  livery.  So  that  he  looked  like  a drunken  beau, 
half  rifled  by  bullies  ; or  like  a fresh  tenant  of  Newgate,  when  he  has 
refused  the  payment  of  garnish  ; or  like  a discovered  shoplifter,  left 
to  the  mercy  of  exchange- women  ; or  like  a bawd  in  her  old  velvet 
petticoat,  resigned  into  the  secular  hands  of  the  Mobile.  Like  any,  or 
like  all  of  these,  a medley  of  rags,  and  lace,  and  rents,  and  fringes, 
unfortunate  Jack  did  now  appear  ; he  would  have  been  extremely  glad 
to  see  his  coat  in  the  condition  of  Martin’s,  but  infinitely  gladder  to 
find  that  of  Martin’s  in  tne  same  predicament  with  his.  However, 
since  neither  of  these  was  likely  to  come  to  pass,  he  thought  fit  to  lend 
the  whole  business  another  turn,  and  to  dress  up  necessity  into  a 
virtue.  Therefore,  after  as  many  of  the  fox’s  arguments  as  he  could 
muster  up,  for  bringing  Martin  to  reason,  as  he  called  it ; or.  as  he 
meant  it,  into  his  own  ragged  bobtailed  condition  ; and  observing  he 
said  all  to  little  purpose  ; what,  alas,  was  left  for  the  forlorn  Jack  to  do, 
but  after  a million  of  scurrilities  against  his  brother,  to  run  mad  with 
spleen  and  spite,  and  contradiction.  To  be  short,  here  began  a mortal 
breach  between  these  two.  Jack  went  immediately  to  new  lodgings, 
and  in  a few  days  it  was  for  certain  reported  that  he  had  run  out  of 
his  wits.  In  a short  time  after,  he  appeared  abroad,  and  confirmed 
the  report,  by  falling  into  the  oddest  whimsies  that  ever  a sick  brain 
conceived. 

And  now  the  little  boys  in  the  streets  began  to  salute  him  with 
several  names.  Sometimes  they  would  call  him  Jack  the  Bald  ; some- 
times, Jack  with  a Lanthorn  ; sometimes,  Dutch  Jack;  sometimes, 
French  Hugh  ; sometimes,  Tom  the  Beggar ; and  sometimes,  Knock- 
ing Jack  of  the  North.  And  it  was  under  one,  or  some,  or  all  of  these 
appellations  (which  I leave  the  learned  reader  to  determine)  thit  he 
hath  given  rise  to  the  most  illustrious  and  epidemic  sect  of^Sflists, 
who,  with  honourable  commemoration,  do  still  acknowledge  the  re- 
nowned Jack  for  their  author  and  founder.  Of  whose  originals,  as 
well  as  principles,  I am  now  advancing  to  gratify  the  world  with  a veiy 
particular  account. 

— - Mellaeo  contingens  cuncta  lepore# 


SECTION  VII. 

A digression  in  praise  of  digressions. 

I HAVE  sometimes  heard  of  an  Iliad  in  a nut-shell ; but  it  hath 
been  my  fortune  to  have  much  oftener  seen  a nut-shell  in  an  Iliad. 
There  is  no  doubt  that  human  life  has  received  most  wonderrul  advan- 
tages from  both  ; but  to  which  of  the  two  the  world  is  chieflv  indebted* 

' 15 


225 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WOE  NS. 


I shall  leave  among  tne  curious,  as  a problem  worthy  of  their  utmost 
inquiry.  For  the  invention  of  the  latter,  I think  the  commonwealth  of 
learning  is  chiefly  obliged  to  the  great  modern  improvement  of  digres- 
sions : the  late  refinements  in  knowledge,  running  parallel  to  those  of 
diet  in  our  nation,  which,  among  men  of  a judicious  taste,  are  dressed 
up  in  various  compounds,  consisting  in  soups  and  olios,  fricassees  and 
ragouts. 

'Tis  true,  there  is  a sort  of  morose,  detracting,  ill-bred  people,  who 
pretend  utterly  to  disrelish  these  polite  innovations  : and  as  to  the 
similitude  from  diet,  they  allow  the  paratTei,  but  are  so  bold  to  pro- 
nounce the  example  itself  a corruption  and  degeneracy  of  taste.  They 
tell  us  that  the  fashion  of  jumbling  fifty  things  together  in  a dish,  was 
at  first  introduced  in  compliance  to  a depraved  and  debauched  appetite, 
as  well  as  to  a crazy  constitution  ; and  to  see  a man  hunting  through 
an  olio,  after  the  head  and  brains  of  a goose,  a widgeon,  or  a wood- 
cock, is  a sign  he  wants  a stomach  and  digestion  for  more  substantial 
victuals.  Further,  they  affirm  that  digressions  in  a book  are  like  foreign 
troops  in  a State,  which  argue  the  nation  to  want  a heart  and  hands  of 
its  own,  and  often  either  subdue  the  natives,  or  drive  them  into  the 
most  unfruitful  corners. 

But,  after  all  that  can  be  objected  by  these  supercilious  censors,  'tis 
manifest,  the  society  of  writers  would  quickly  be  reduced  to  a very 
inconsiderable  number,  if  men  were  put  upon  making  books,  with  the 
fatal  confinement  of  delivering  nothing  beyond  what  is  to  the  purpose. 
'Tis  acknowledged,  that  were  the  case  the  same  among  us,  as  with  the 
Greeks  and  Romans,  when  learning  was  in  its  cradle,  to  be  reared  and 
fed,  and  clothed  by  invention  ; it  would  be  an  easy  task  to  fill  up 
volumes  upon  particular  occasions,  without  farther  expatiating  from 
the  subject,  than  by  moderate  excursions,  helping  to  advance  or  clear 
the  main  design.  But  with  knowledge,  it  has  fared  as  with  a nume- 
rous army,  encamped  in  a fruitful  country,  which  for  a few  days 
maintains  itself  by  the  product  of  the  soil  it  is  on;  till,  provisions  being 
spent,  they  send  to  forage  many  a mile,  among  friends  or  enemies,  it 
matters  not.  Meanwffiile,  the  neighbouring  fields,  trampled  and  beaten 
down,  become  barren  and  dry,  affording  no  sustenance  but  clouds  of 
dust. 

The  wffiole  course  of  things  being  thus  entirely  changed  between  us 
and  the  ancients  ; and  the  moderns  wisely  sensible  of  it,  we  of  this 
age  have  discovered  a shorter  and  more  prudent  method  to  become 
scholars  and  wits,  without  the  fatigue  of  reading  or  of  thinking.  The 
most  accomplished  way  of  using  books  at  present,  is  twofold  : either, 
first,  to  serve  them  as  some  men  do  lords,  learn  their  titles  exactly, 
and  then  brag  of  their  acquaintance;  or,  secondly,  which  is  indeed 
the  choicer,  the  profounder,  and  politer  method,  to  get  a thorough 
insight  into  the  Index,  by  which  the  whole  book  is  governed  and 
turned,  like  fishes  bv  the  tail.  For,  to  enter  the  palace  of  learning  at 
the  great  gate,  requires  an  expense  of  time  and  forms  ; therefore,  men 
of  much  haste  and  littte  ceremony  are  content  to  get  in  by  the  back- 
door. For  the  arts  are  all  in  a flying  march,  and  therefore  more  easily 
subdued  by  attacking  them  in  the  rear.  Thus  physicians  discover  the 
state  of  the  whole  bo^.y,  by  consulting  only  what  comes  from  behind 


A TALE  OF  A TUB. 


227 


Thus  men  catch  knowledge  by  throwing  the’r  wit  on  the  posteriors  of 
a book,  as  boys  do  sparrows  with  flinging  salt  upon  their  tails.  Thus 
human  life  is  best  understood  by  the  wise  man’s  rule  of  regarding  the 
end.  Thus  are  the  sciences  found,  like  Hercules’  oxen,  by  tracing  them 
backwards.  Thus  are  old  silences  unravelled  like  old  stockings,  by 
beginning  at  the  foot. 

Besides  all  this,  the  army  of  the  sciences  hath  been  of  late,  with  a 
world  of  martial  discipline,  drawn  into  its  close  order,  so  that  a view 
or  n muster  may  be  taken  of  it  with  abundance  of  expedition.  For 
this  great  blessing  we  are  wholly  indebted  to  systems  and  abstracts,  in 
which  the  modern  fathers  of  learning,  like  prudent  usurers,  spent 
their  sweat  for  the  ease  of  us  their  children.  For  labour  is  the  seed 
of  idleness,  and  it  is  the  peculiar  happiness  of  our  noble  age  to  gather 
the  fruit. 

Now,  the  method  of  growing  wise,  learned,  and  sublime,  having  be- 
come so  regular  an  affair,  and  so  established  in  all  its  forms  ; the 
numbers  of  writers  must  needs  have  increased  accordingly,  and  to  a 
pitch  that  has  made  it  of  absolute  necessity  for  them  to  interfere  con- 
tinually with  each  other.  Besides,  it  is  reckoned  that  there  is  not, 
at  this  present,  a sufficient  quantity  of  new  matter  left  in  nature,  to 
furnish  and  adorn  any  one  particular  subject  to  the  extent  of  a volume. 
This  I am  told  by  a very  skilful  computer,  who  hath  given  a full  demon- 
stration of  it  from  rules  of  arithmetic. 

This,  perhaps,  may  be  objected  against,  by  those  who  maintain  the 
infinity^ol^m^tter,  and  therefore  will  not  allow  that  any  species  of  it 
can  be  exhausted.  For  answer  to  which  let  us  examine  the  noblest 
branch  of  modern  wit  or  invention,  planted  and  cultivated  by  the 
present  age,  and  which,' of  all  others,  hath  borne  the  most,  and  the 
fairest  fruit.  For  though  some  remains  of  it  were  left  us  by  the  ancients, 
yet  have  not  any  of  those,  as  I remember,  been  translated  or  compiled 
into  systems  for  modern  use.  Therefore  we  may  affirm,  to  our  own 
honour,  that  it  has,  in  some  sort,  been  both  invented  and  brought  to  a 
perfection  by  the  same  hands.  What  I mean  is  that  highly  celebrated 
talent  among  the  modern  wits,  of  deducing  similitudes,  allusions,  and 
applications,  very  surprising,  agreeable,  and  apposite,  from  the  genitals 
of  either  sex,  together  with  their  proper  uses.  And  truly,  having  ob- 
served how  little  invention  bears  any  vogue,  besides  what  is  derived 
into  these  channels,  I have  sometimes  had  a thought,  that  the  happy 
genius  of  our  age  and  country  was  prophetically  held  forth  by  that 
ancient*  typical  description  of  the  Indian  pigmies  ; whose  stature  did 
not  exceed  above  two  foot ; sed  quorum  pudenda  crassa,  et  ad  talos 
usqzie  pertmgentia.  Now  I have  been  very  curious  to  inspect  the  late 
productions,  wherein  the  beauties  of  this  kind  have  most  prominently 
appeared.  And  although  this  vein  hath  bled  so  freely,  and  all  endea- 
vours have  been  used  in  the  power  of  human  breath,  to  dilate,  extend, 
and  keep  it  open  : like  the  Scythians,  who  had  a custom  and  an  instru- 
ment, to  blow  up  the  privities  of  their  mares,  that  they  might  yield  the 
more  milk  ;+  yet  I am  under  an  apprehension  it  is  near  growing  dry, 
and  past  all  recovery  ; and  that  either  some  new  iund  of  wit  should,  if 

* Ctesise  fragm.  apud  Photium.  + Herodot.  L.  4. 

15—2 


228 


DEAN  SW JET'S  WORKS. 


possible,  be  provided,  or  else  that  we  must  e’en  be  content  with  repe- 
tition here,  as  well  as  upon  all  other  occasions. 

This  will  stand  as  an  incontestable  argument,  that  our  modern  wits 
are  not  to  reckon  upon  the  infinity  oJ|  matter,  for  a constant  supply. 
What  remains,  therefore,  but  that  our  last  recourse  must  be  had  to 
large  indexes,  and  little  compendiums ; quotations  must  be  plentifully 
gathered,  and  booked  in  alphabet  ; to  this  end,  though  authors  need 
be  little  consulted,  yet  critics,  and  commentators,  and  lexicons  carefully 
must.  But  above  all,  those  judicious  collectors  of  bright  parts,  and 
flowers,  and  observandas,  are  to  be  nicely  dwelt  on,  by  some  called 
the  sieves  and  boulters  of  learning  ; though  it  is  left  undetermined, 
whether  they  dealt  in  pearls  or  meal ; and,  consequently,  whether 
we  are  more  to  value  that  which  passed  through,  or  what  stayed 
behind. 

By  these  methods,  in  a few  weeks,  there  starts  up  many  a writer, 
capable  of  managing  the  profoundest  and  most  universal  subjects. 
For,  what  though  his  head  be  empty,  provided  his  common- place  book 
be  full  ; and  if  you  will  bdte  him  but  the  circumstances  of  method,  and 
style,  and  grammar,  and  invention  ; allow  him  but  the  common  privi- 
leges of  transcribing  from  others,  and  digressing  from  himself,  as  often 
as  he  shall  see  occasion  ; he  will  desire  no  more  ingredients  towards 
fitting  up  a treatise,  that  shall  make  a very  comely  figure  on  a book- 
seller’s shelf,  there  to  be  preserved  neat  and  clean,  for  a long  eternity, 
adorned  with  the  heraldry  of  its  title,  fairly  inscribed  on  a label  ; never 
to  be  thumbed  or  greased  by  students,  nor  bound  to  everlasting  chains 
of  darkness  in  a library  : but  when  the  fulness  of  time  is  come,  shall 
happily  undergo  the  trial  of  purgatory  in  order  to  ascend  the  sky. 

Without  these  allowances,  how  is  it  possible  we  modern  wits  should 
ever  have  an  opportunity  to  introduce  our  collections,  listed  under  so 
many  thousand  heads  of  a different  nature  ? for  want  of  which,  the 
learned  world  would  be  deprived  of  infinite  delight,  as  well  as  instruc- 
tion, and  we  ourselves  buried  beyond  redress  in  an  inglorious  and  un- 
distinguished oblivion. 

From  such  elements  as  these,  I am  alive  to  behold  the  day  wherein 
the  corporation  of  authors  can  out-vie  all  its  brethren  in  the  field.  A 
happiness  derived  to  us  with  a great  many  others,  from  our  Scythian 
ancestors  ; among  whom  the  number  of  pens  was  so  infinite,  that  the 
Grecian  eloquence*  had  no  other  way  of  expressing  it,  than  by  saying, 
that  in  the  regions,  far  to  the  north,  it  was  hardly  possible  for  a man 
to  travel,  the  very  air  was  so  replete  with  feathers. 

The  necessity  of  this  digression  will  easily  excuse  the  length  ; and  I 
have  chosen  for  it  as  proper  a place  as  I could  readily  find.  If  the 
judicious  reader  can  assign  a fitter,  I do  here  empower  him  to  re- 
move it  into  any  other  corner  he  pleases.  And  so  I return  with  great 
alacrity  to  pursue  a more  important  concern. 


* Herodot.  L. 


A TALE  OF  A TUB . 


229 


SECTION  VIII. 

THE  learned  ^Eolists  maintain  the  original  cause  of  all  things  to  be 
wind,  from  which  principle  this  whole  universe  was  at  first  pro- 
duced, and  into  which  it  must  at  last  be  resolved  ; that  the  same  breath 
which  had  kindled,  and  blew  up  the  flame  of  nature,  should  one  day 
blow  it  out. 

Quod  procul  a nobis  flectat  Fortuna  gubemans. 

This  is  what  the  Adepti  understand  by  their  anima  mundi ; that  is 
to  say,  the  spirit,  or  breath,  or  wind  of  the  world  : or  examine  the 
whole  system  by  the  particulars  of  nature,  and  you  will  find  it  not  to 
be  disputed.  For,  whether  you  please  to  call  the  forma  inf ormans  of 
man  by  the  name  of  spiritus,  animus,  afflatus,  or  anima;  what  are  all 
these,  but  several  appellations  for  wind?  which  is  the  ruling  element 
in  every  compound,  and  into  which  they  all  resolve  upon  their  corrup- 
tion. Further,  what  is  life  itself,  but  as  it  is  commonly  called,  the 
breath  of  our  nostrils  ? Whence  it  is  very  justly  observed  by  natural- 
ists, that  wind  still  continues  of  great  emolument  in  certain  mysteries 
not  to  be  named,  giving  occasion  for  those  happy  epithets  of  Turgidus 
and  Infiattis , applied  either  to  the  emitter t or  recipient  organs. 

By  what  I have  gathered  out  of  ancient  records,  I find  the  compass 
of  their  doctrine  took  in  two  and  thirty  points,  wherein  it  would  be 
tedious  to  be  very  particular.  However,  a few  of  their  most  important 
precepts  deducible  from  it  are  by  no  means  to  be  omitted  ; among 
which  the  following  maxim  was  of  much  weight : that  since  wind  had 
the  master  share  as  well  as  operation  in  every  compound,  by  consequence 
those  beings  must  be  of  chief  excellence,  wherein  that  primordium 
appears  most  prominently  to  abound  ; and,  therefore,  man  is  in  highest  * 
perfection  of  all  created  things,  as  having  by  the  great  bounty  of  philo- 
sophers been  endued  with  three  distinct  animci s or  winds,  to  which  the 
sage  ^Eolists  with  much  liberality  have  added  a fourth  of  equal  necessity 
as  well  as  ornament  with  the  other  three  ; by  this  quantum  principium 
taking  in  the  four  corners  of  the  world,  which  gave  occasion  to  that  re- 
nowned Cabbalist,  Bumbastus,  of  placing  the  body  of  man  in  due  posi- 
tion to  the  four  cardinal  points. 

In  consequence  of  this,  their  next  principle  was  that  man  brings  with 
him  into  the  world  a peculiar  portion  or  grain  of  wind,  which  may  be 
called  a quinta  essentia  extracted  from  the  other  four.  This  quint- 
essence is  of  catholic  use  upon  all  emergencies  of  life,  is  improvable 
into  all  arts  and  sciences,  and  may  be  wonderfully  refined  as  well  as 
enlarged  by  certain  methods  in  education.  This,  when  blown  up  to  its 
perfection,  ought  not  to  be  covetously  hoarded  up,  stifled,  or  hid  under 
a bushel,  but  freely  communicated  to  mankind.  Upon  these  reasons, 
and  others  of  equal  weight,  the  wise  ^Eolists,  affirm  the  gift  of  belching 
to  be  the  noblest  act  of  a rational  creature  ; to  cultivate  which  art,  and 
render  it  more  serviceable  to  mankind,  they  made  use  of  several  me- 
thods. At  certain  seasons  of  the  year,  you  might  behold  die  priests 


230 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


amongst  them  in  vast  numbers,  with  their  mouths  gap |ng  Tjj  * “jPjg 
a storm.  At  other  times  were  to  be  seen  several  hundreds  Jinked 
together  in  a circular  chain,  with  every  man  a pair  of  bellows  applied  to 
his  neighbour’s  breech,  by  which  they  blew  up  each  other  to  the  shape 
and  size  of  a tun  ; and  for  that  reason,  with  great  propriety  of  speech, 
did  usually  call  (heir  bodies  their  vessels.  When,  by  these  and  the 
like  performances,  they  were  grown  sufficiently  replete,  they  wculd 
immediately  depart,  and  disembogue  for  the  public  good  a plentiful 
share  of  their  acquirements  into  their  disciples’  chaps.  For  we  must 
here  observe  that  all  learning  was  esteemed  among  them  to  be  com- 
pounded from  the  Tame  principle.  Because,  first,  it  is  generally  affirmed 
or  confessed  that  learning  puffeth  men  up  ; and,  secondly,  they  proved 
it  by  the  following  syllogism  : “ words  are  but  wind  ; and  learning  s 
nothin0,  but  words ; ergo,  learning  is  nothing  but  wind.  F or  th  s 
reason°  the  philosophers  among  them  did,  in  their  schools,  deliver  o 
their  pupils  all  their  doctrines  and  opinions  by  eructation,  wherein  t ey 
had  acquired  a wonderful  eloquence,  and  of  incredible  variety.  But 
the  great  characteristic  by  which  their  chief  sages  were  best  distinguished 
was  ^certain  position  of  countenance,  which  gave  undoubted  intelli- 
gence to  what  degree  or  proportion  the  spirit  agitated  the  inward  mass. 
For  after  certain  gripings,  the  wind  and  vapours  issuing  forth,  having 
first  bv  their  turbulence  and  convulsions  within  caused  an  earthquake 
in  man’s  lit  le  world,  distorted  the  mouth,  bloated  the  cheeks,  and  gave 

Thefr  gods  were  th.  four  winds,  whom  they  worshiped  •*<*•&“» 
thM  pervade  and  enliven  the  universe,  and  as  those  from  whom i alone 
_ii  in^niration  can  properly  be  said  to  proceed.  However,  the  chief  o 
?Lse  Kom  theyPpe?formed  the  adoration  of  Latria  was  the  almighty 
North  —an  ancient  deity,  whom  the  inhabitants  of  Megalopolis  in  Greece 
had  hkewiseTn^ holiest  reverence.*  Omnium  deorum  Bor  earn  rnaxime  { 

ancient  Greeks,  by  them  called  Scoria,  or  the  land  of  d^kn  . A d 

age^hfzllfuf  aming6  fhefr  prieLhood  have’ fought  over 
choicest  inspiration,  fetching  it  with  their  ™ 
head  in  certain  bladders,  and  displodmg  it  among  the 
nations,  who  did,  and  do,  and  ever  will,  daily  g^s?  P^ner  >Tis 
Now,  their  mysteries  and  rites  were  performed  in  this  man 


Pausan,  L.  8. 


A TALE  OF  A TUB. 


23* 


well  known  among  tlie  learned  that  the  virtuosos  of  former  ages  had  a 
contrivance  for  carrying  and  preserving  winds  in  casks  or  barrels,  which 
was  of  great  assistance  upon  long  sea  voyages  ; and  the  loss  of  so  useful 
an  art  at  present  is  very  much  to  be  lamented,  though  I know  not  how, 
with  great  negligence  omitted  by  Pancirollus.  It  was  an  invention 
ascribed  to  Aiolus  himself,  from  whom  this  sect  is  denominated,  and 
who  in  honour  of  their  founder’s  memory  have  to  this  day  preserved 
great  numbers  of  those  barrels,  whereof  they  fix  one  in  each  of  their 
temples,  first  beating  out  the  top  ; into  this  barrel,  upon  solemn  days, 
the  priest  enters  ; where,  having  before  duly  prepared  himself  by  the 
methods  already  described,  a secret  funnel  is  also  conveyed  from  his 
posteriors  to  the  bottom  of  the  barrel,  which  admits  new  supplies  of 
inspiration  from  a northern  chink  or  cranny.  Whereupon,  you  behold 
him  swell  immediately  to  the  shape  and  size  of  his  vessel.  In  this 
posture  he  disembogues  whole  tempests  upon  his  auditory,  as  the  spirit 
from  beneath  gives  him  utterance  ; which  issuing  ex  adytis  and  pene - 
tralibus  is  not  performed  without  much  pain  and  gripings.  And  the 
wind,  in  breaking  forth,  deals  with  his  face  as  it  does  with  that  of  the 
sea  : first  blackening,  then  wrinkling,  and  at  last  bursting  it  into  a foam. 
It  is  in  this  guise  the  sacred  ^Eolist  delivers  his  oracular  belches  to 
his  panting  disciples,  of  whom  some  are  greedily  gaping  after  the 
sanctified  breath  ; others  are  all  the  while  hymning  out  the  praises  of  the 
winds  ; and,  gently  wafted  to  and  fro  by  their  own  humming,  do  thus 
represent  the  soft  breezes  of  their  deities  appeased. 

It  is  from  this  custom  of  the  priests  that  some  authors  maintain 
these  ALolists  to  have  been  very  ancient  in  the  world.  Because  the 
delivery  of  their  mysteries,  which  I have  just  now  mentioned,  appears 
exactly  the  same  with  that  of  other  ancient  oracles,  whose  inspirations 
were  owing  to  certain  subterraneous  effluviums  of  wind,  delivered  with 
the  same  pain  to  the  priest,  and  much  about  the  same  influence  on  the 
people.  It  is  true  indeed  that  these  were  frequently  managed  and  di- 
rected by  female  officers,  whose  organs  were  understood  to  be  better 
disposed  for  the  admission  of  those  oracular  gusts  as  entering  and  pass- 
ing up  through  a receptacle  of  greater  capacity,  and  causing  also  a 
pruriency  by  the  way,  such  as  with  due  management  hath  been  refined 
from  carnal  into  a spiritual  ecstasy.  And  to  strengthen  this  profound 
conjecture,  it  is  farther  insisted  that  this  custom  of  female  priests  is  kept 
up  still  in  certain  refined  colleges  of  our  modern  ^Eolists,  who  are  agreed 
to  receive  their  inspiration,  derived  through  the  receptacle  aforesaid, 
like  their  ancestors  the  Sibyls. 

And,  whereas  the  mind  of  man,  when  he  gives  the  spur  and  bridle  to 
his  thoughts,  doth  never  stop,  but  naturally  sallies  out  into  both  extremes 
of  high  and  low,  of  good  and  evil,  his  first  flight  of  fancy  commoniy 
transports  him  to  ideas  of  what  is  most  perfect,  finished,  and  exalted  ; 
till  having  soared  out  of  his  own  reach  and  sight,  not  well  perceiving 
how  near  the  frontiers  of  height  and  depth  border  upon  each  other,  with 
the  same  course  and  wing  he  falls  down  plump  into  the  lowest  bottom  of 
things,  like  one  who  travels  from  the  east  into  the  west,  or  like  a straight 
line  drawn  by  its  own  length  into  a circle.  Whether  a tincture  of  malice 
in  our  natures  makes  us  fond  of  furnishing  every  bright  idea  with  its 
reverse,  or  whether  reason  reflecting  upon  the  sum  of  things  can,  like 

J 


23* 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS 


the  sun,  serve  only  to  enlighten  one-half  of  the  globe,  leaving  the 
other  half  by  necessity,  under  shade  and  darkness,  or,  whether  fancy, 
flying  up  to  the  imagination  of  what  is  highest  and  best,  becomes  over- 
short, and  spent,  and  weary,  and  suddenly  falls  like  a dead  bird  of 
paradise  to  the  ground  ; — or  whether,  after  all  these  metaphysical  con- 
jectures. I have  not  entirely  missed  the  true  reason — the  proposition, 
however,  which  hath  stood  me  in  so  much  circumstance  is  altogether 
true,  that,  as  the  most  uncivilized  parts  of  mankind  have  some  way  or 
other  climbed  up  into  the  conception  of  a God  or  Supreme  Power,  so 
they  have  seldom  forgot* to  provide  their  fears  with  certain  ghastly  no- 
tions, which,  instead  of  better,  have  served  them  pretty  tolerably  for  a 
devil.  And  this  proceeding  seems  to  be  natural  enough  ; for  it  is  with 
men,  whose  imaginations  are  lifted  up  very  high  after  the  same  rate  as 
with  those  whose  bodies  are  so  ; that,  as  they  are  delighted  with  the  ad- 
vantage of  a nearer  contemplation  upwards,  so  they  are  equally  terrified 
with  the  dismal  prospect  of  the  precipice  below.  Thus,  in  the  choice 
of  a devil,  it  hath  been  the  usual  method  of  mankind  to  single  out  some 
being  either  in  act  or  in  vision  which  was  in  most  antipathy  to  the  God 
they  had  framed.  Thus  also  the  sect  of  ^Eolists  possessed  themselves 
with  a dread,  and  horror,  and  hatred  of  two  malignant  natures,  betwixt 
whom  and  the  deities  they  adored  perpetual  enmity  was  established. 
The  first  of  these  was  the  cameleon,  sworn  foe  to  inspiration,  who  in 
scorn  devoured  large  influences  of  their  god  without  refunding  the 
smallest  blast  by  eructation.  The  other  was  a huge,  terrible  monster, 
called  Moulin- a-vent,  who  with  four  strong  arms  waged  eternal  battle 
with  all  their  divinities,  dexterously  turning  to  avoid  their  blows,  and 
repay  them  with  interest. 

Thus  furnished,  and  set  out  with  gods  as  well  as  devils,  was  the 
renowned  sect  of  yEolists,  which  makes  at  this  day  so  illustrious  a figure 
in  the  world,  and  whereof  that  polite  nation  of  Laplanders  are  beyond 
all  doubt  a most  authentic  branch  ; of  whom  I,  therefore,  cannot  without 
injustice  here  omit  to  make  honourable  mention,  since  they  appear  to 
be  so  closely  allied  in  point  of  interest  as  well  as  inclinations  with 
their  brother  ^Eolists  among  us,  as  not  only  to  buy  their  winds  by  whole- 
sale from  the  same  merchants,  but  also  to  retail  them  after  the  same  rate 
and  method,  and  to  customers  much  alike. 

Now,  whether  the  system  here  delivered  was  wholly  compiled  by 
Jack,  or,  as  some  writers  believe,  rather  copied  from  the  original  at 
Delphos,  with  certain  additions  and  emendations  suited  to  times  and 
circumstances,  I shall  not  absolutely  determine.  This  I may  affirm, 
that  jack  gave  it  at  least  a new  turn^and  formed  it  into  the  same  dress 
and  model  as  it  lies  deduced  by  me. 

I have  long  sought  after  this  opportunity  of  doing  justice  to  a society 
of  men  for  whom  I have  a peculiar  honour,  and  whose  opinions  as  well 
as  practices  have  been  extremely  misrepresented  and  traduced  by  the 
malice  or  ignorance  of  their  adversaries.  For  I think  it  one  of  the 
greatest  and  best  of  humane  actions  to  remove  prejudices,  and  place 
things  in  their  truest  and  fairest  light ; which  I therefore  boldly  under- 
take without  any  regards  of  my  own.  beside  the  conscience*  the  honour 
and  the  thanks. 


? 


A TALE  OF  A TUB. 


*33 


SECTION  IX. 

A digression  concerning  the  original,  the  use  and  improvement  of  madness  in 
a Commonwealth. 

NOR  shall  it  any  ways  detract  from  the  just  reputation  of  this  famous 
sect,  that  its  rise  and  institution  are  owing  to  such  an  author  as 
I have  described  Jack  to  be  ; a person  whose  intellectuals  were  over- 
turned and  his  brain  shaken  out  of  its  natural  position  ; which  we 
commonly  suppose  to  be  a distemper,  and  call  by  the  name  of  madness 
or  frenzy.  For,  if  we  take  a survey  of  the  greatest  actions  that  have 
been  performed  in  the  world,  under  the  influence  of  single  men  ; which 
are,  the  establishment  of  new  empires  by  conquest ; the  advance  and 
progress  of  new  schemes  in  philosophy  ; and  the  contriving,  as  well  as 
the  propagating  of  new  religions — we  shall  find  the  authors  of  them 
all  to  have  been  persons  whose  natural  reason  hath  admitted  great 
revolutions  from  their  diet,  their  education,  the  prevalency  of  some 
certain  temper,  together  with  the  particular  influence  of  air  and  climate. 
Besides,  there  is  something  individual  in  human  minds,  that  easily 
kindles  at  the  accidental  approach  and  collision  of  certain  circumstances, 
which,  though  of  paltry  and  mean  appearance,  do  often  flame  out  into 
the  greatest  emergencies  of  life  ; for  great  turns  are  not  always  given 
by  strong  hands,  but  by  lucky  adaption,  and  at  proper  seasons  ; and 
it  is  of  no  import  where  the  fire  was  kindled,  if  the  vapour  has  once 
got  up  into  the  brain.  For  the  upper  region  of  man,  is  furnished  like 
the  middle  region  of  the  air  ; the  materials  are  formed  from  causes  of 
the  widest  difference,  yet  produce  at  last  the  same  substance  and  effect. 
Mists  arise  from  the  earth,  steams  from  dunghills,  exhalations  from  the 
sea,  and  smoke  from  fire  ; yet  all  clouds  are  the  same  in  composition, 
as  well  as  consequences  ; and  the  fumes  issuing  from  a jakes  will 
furnish  as  comely  and  useful  a vapour  as  incense  from  an  altar.  Thus 
far,  I suppose,  will  easily  be  granted  me  ; and  then  it  will  follow  that 
as  the  face  of  nature  never  produces  rain,  but  when  it  is  overcast  and 
disturbed,  so  human  understanding,  seated  in  the  brain,  must  be 
troubled  and  overspread  by  vapours,  ascending  from  the  lower  faculties, 
to  water  the  invention,  and  render  it  fruitful.  Now,  although  these 
vapours  (as  it  hath  been  already  said)  are  of  as  various  original  as 
those  of  the  skies,  yet  the  crop  they  produce  differs  both  in  kind  and 
degree,  merely  according  to  the  soil.  I will  produce  two  instances  to 
prove  and  explain  what  I am  now  advancing. 

A certain  great  prince  raised  a mighty  army,  filled  his  coffers  with 
infinite  treasures,  provided  an  invincible  fleet ; and  all  this,  without 
giving  the  least  part  of  his  design  to  his  greatest  ministers,  or  his 
nearest  favourites.  Immediately  the  whole  world  was  alarmed  ; the 
neighbouring  crowns,  in  trembling  expectations,  towards  what  point 
the  storm  would  burst ; the  small  politicians  everywhere  forming  pro- 
found conjectures.  Some  believed  he  had  laid  a scheme  for  universal 
monarchy.  Others,  after  much  insight,  determined  the  matter  to.  be  a 
project  for  pulling  down  the  Pope,  and  setting  up  the  reformed  religion 
which  had  once  been  his  own.  Some,  again,  of  a deeper  sagr  ity,  jent 


*34 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


him  into  Asia  to  subdue  the  Turk  and  recover  Palestine.  In  the  midst 
of  all  these  projects  and  preparations,  a certain  state-surgeon,  gather- 
ing the  nature  of  the  disease  by  these  symptoms,  attempted  the  cure,  at 
one  blow  performed  the  operation,  broke  the  bag,  and  out  flew  the 
vapour  ; nor  did  anything  want  to  render  it  a complete  remedy,  only 
that  the  prince  unfortunately  happened  to  die  in  the  performance. 
Now,  is  the  reader  exceeding  curious  to  learn,  from  whence  this  vapour 
took  its  rise,  which  had  so  long  set  the  nations  at  a gaze  ? What  secret 
wheel,  what  hidden  spring  could  put  into  motion  so  wonderful  an 
engine  ? It  was  afterwards  discovered  that  the  movement  of  this 
whole  machine  had  been  directed  by  an  absent  female,  whose  eyes  had 
raised  a protuberancy,  and  before  emission,  she  was  removed  into  an 
enemy’s  country.  What  should  an  unhappy  prince  do  in  such  ticklish 
circumstances  as  these  ? He  tried  in  vain  the  poet’s  never-failing  re- 
ceipt of  Corpora  quceque  ; For, 

Idque  petit  corpus  mens  unde  est  saucia  amore  ; 

Unde  feritur,  eo  tendit,  gestitque  coire  — Lucr. 

Having  to  no  purpose  used  all  peaceable  endeavours,  the  collected 
part  of  the  semen,  raised  and  enflamed,  became  adust,  converted  to 
choler,  turned  head  upon  the  spinal  duct,  and  ascended  to  the  brain. 
The  very  same  principle  that  influences  a bully  to  break  the  windows 
of  a whore  who  has  jilted  him,  naturally  stirs  up  a great  prince  to  raise 
mighty  armies,  and  dream  of  nothing  but  sieges,  battles  and  victories. 

Cunnus  teterrima  belli 

Causa 

The  other  instance  is,  what  I have  read  somewhere,  in  a very  ancient 
author,  of  a mighty  King,  who  for  the  space  of  above  thirty  years, 
amused  himself  to  take  and  lose  towns  ; beat  armies,  and  be 
beaten  ; drive  princes  out  of  their  dominions  ; fright  children  from 
their  bread  and  butter  ; burn,  lay  waste,  plunder,  dragoon,  massacre, 
subject  and  stranger,  friend  and  foe,  male  and  female.  ;Tis  recorded 
that  the  philosophers  of  each  country  were  in  grave  dispute  .upon 
causes  natural,  moral,  and  political,  to  find  out  where  they  should 
assign  an  original  solution  of  this  phenomenon.  At  last  the  vapour  or 
spirit,  which  animated  the  hero’s  brain,  being  in  perpetual  circulation, 
seized  upon  that  region  of  human  body,  so  renowned  for  furnishing  the 
zibeta  occidentalism  and  gathering  there  into  a tumour,  left  the  rest  of 
the  world  for  that  time  in  peace.  Of  such  mighty  consequence  it  is 
where  those  exhalations  fix,  and  of  so  little  from  whence  they  pro- 
ceed. The  same  spirits  which  in  their  superior  progress  would  conquer 
a kingdom,  descending  upon  the  anus,  conclude  in  a fistula. 

Let  us  next  examine  the  great  introducers  of  new  schemes  in  philosophy, 
and  search  till  we  can  find  from  what  faculty  of  the  soul  the  disposition 
arises  in  mortal  man  of  taking  it  into  his  head,  to  advance  new  sys- 
tems with  such  an  eager  zeal,  in  things  agreed  on  all  hands  impossible 
to  be  known  : from  what  seeds  this  disposition  springs,  and  to  what 
quality  of  human  nature  these  grand  innovators  have  been  indebted  for 
their  number  of  disciples.  Because  it  is  plain  that  several  of  the  chief 
among  them,  both  ancient  and  modern,  were  usually  mistaken  by  their 


A TALE  OF  A TUB. 


*3$ 


adversaries,  and  Indeed  by  all  except  their  own  followers,  to  ha  re  been 
persons  crazed,  or  out  of  their  wits,  having  generally  proceeded  in  the 
common  course  of  their  words  and  actions,  by  a method  very  different 
from  the  vulgar  dictates  of  unrefined  reason  : agreeing  for  the  most 
part  in  their  several  models,  with  their  present  undoubted  successors 
in  the  academy  of  modern  Bedlam  (whose  merits  and  principles  I shall 
farther  examine  in  due  place.)  Of  this  kind  were  Epicurus,  Diogenes, 
Apollonius,  Lucretius,  Paracelsus,  Descartes,  and  others  ; who,  if 
they  were  now  in  the  world,  tied  fast,  and  separate  from  their  followers, 
would  in  this,  our  undistinguishing  age,  incur  manifest  danger  of  phle- 
botomy and  whips,  and  chains,  and  dark  chambers  and  straw.  For 
what  man  in  the  natural  state,  or  course  of  thinking,  did  ever  conceive 
it  in  his  power,  to  reduce  the  notions  of  all  mankind,  exactly  to  the  same 
length,  and  breadth,  and  height  of  his  own?  Yet  this  is  the  first 
humble  and  civil  design  of  all  innovators  in  the  empire  of  reason. 
Epicurus  modestly  hoped  that  one  time  or  other,  a certain  fortuitous 
concourse  of  all  men’s  opinions,  after  perpetual  jostlings,  the  sharp  with 
the  smooth,  the  light  and  the  heavy,  the  round  and  the  square,  would 
by  certain  clinamina , unite  in  the  notions  of  atoms  and  void,  as 
these  did  in  the  originals  of  all  things.  Cartesius  reckoned  to  see  before 
he  died,  the  sentiments  of  all  philosophers,  like  so  many  lesser  stars  in 
his  romantic  system,  rapt  and  drawn  within  his  own  vortex.  Now,  I 
would  gladly  be  informed,  how  it  is  possible  to  account  for  such  imagi- 
nations as  these  in  particular  men,  without  recourse  to  my  phenomenon 
of  vapours,  ascending  from  the  lower  faculties  to  overshadow  the  brain, 
and  their  distilling  into  conceptions,  for  which  the  narrowness  of  our 
mother-tongue  has  not  yet  assigned  any  other  name,  besides  that  of 
madness  or  phrenzy.  Let  us  therefore  now  conjecture  how  it  comes  to 
pass,  that  none  of  these  great  prescribers  do  ever  fail  providing  them- 
selves and  their  notions  with  a number  of  implicit  disciples.  And  I 
think,  the  reason  is  easy  to  be  assigned  : for  there  is  a peculiar  string 
in  the  harmony  of  human  understanding,  which  in  several  individuals 
is  exactly  of  the  same  tuning.  This,  if  you  can  dexterously  screw  up  to 
its  right  key,  and  then  strike  gently  upon  it,  whenever  you  have  the 
good  fortune  to  light  among  those  of  the  same  pitch,  they  will  by  a 
secret  necessary  sympathy,  strike  exactly  at  the  same  time.  And  in 
this  one  circumstance,  lies  all  the  skill  or  luck  of  the  matter  ; for  if  you 
chance  to  jar  the  string  among  those  who  are  either  above  or  below 
your  own  height,  instead  of  subscribing  to  your  doctrine,  they  will  tie 
you  fast,  call  you  mad,  and  feed  you  with  bread  and  water.  It  is  there- 
fore a point  of  the  nicest  conduct  to  distinguish  and  adapt  this  noble 
talent,  with  respect  to  the  differences  of  persons  and  of  times.  Cicero 
understood  this  very  well,  wten  writing  to  a triend  in  England,  with  a 
caution  among  other  matters,  to  beware  01  being  cheated  by  our  hack- 
ney-coachmen (who,  it  seems,  in  those  days,  were  as  arrant  rascals  as 
they  are  now)  has  these  remarkable  words  : Est  quod  gaudeas  tein  ista 
loca  venisse , ubi  aliquid  sapere  viderere  * For,  to  speak  a bold  truth* 
it  is  a fatal  miscarriage,  so  ill  to  order  affairs,  as  to  pass  for  a fool  in 
one  company,  when  in  another  you  might  be  treated  as  a philosopher* 

* Epist.  ad  fam.  Trebatio* 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


236 


Which  I desire  some  certain  gentlemen  of  my  acquaintance  to  lay  up  in 
their  hearts,  as  a very  seasonable  innuendo. 

This  indeed,  was  the  fatal  mistake  of  that  worthy  gentleman,  my  most 
ingenious  friend  Mr.  W-tt-n  ; a person,  in  appearance  ordained  for 
great  designs,  as  well  as  performances  ; whether  you  will  consider  his 
notions  or  his  looks.  Surely  no  man  ever  advanced  into  the  public 
with  fitter  qualifications  of  body  and  mind  for  the  propagation  of  a new 
religion.  Oh,  had  those  happy  talents  misapplied  to  vain  philosophy 
been  turned  into  their  proper  channels  of  dreams  and  visions,  where 
distortion  of  mind  and  countenance  are  of  such  sovereign  use,  the 
| base  detracting  world  would  not  then  have  dared  to  report  that  some- 
* thing  is  amiss,  that  his  brain  hath  undergone  an  unlucky  shake  ; which 
, even  his  brother  modernists  themselves,  like  ungrates,  do  whisper  so 
> loud,  that  it  reaches  up  to  the  very  garret  I am  now  writing  in. 

Lastly,  whosoever  pleases  to  look  into  the  fountains  of  enthusiasm, 
from  whence,  in  all  ages,  have  eternally  proceeded  such  fattening  streams, 
will  find  the  spring  head  to  have  been  as  troubled  and  muddy  as  the 
current ; of  such  great  emolument  is  a tincture  of  this  vapour,  which 
the  world  calls  madness,  that  without  its  help,  the  world  would  not 
only  be  deprived  of  those  two  great  blessings,  conquests  and  systems, 
but  even  all  mankind  would  happily  be  reduced  to  the  same  belief  in 
things  invisible.  Now,  the  former  postulatnm  being  held,  that  it  is  of 
no  import  from  what  originals  this  vapour  proceeds,  but  either  in  what 
angles  it  strikes  and  spreads  over  the  understanding,  or  upon  what 
species  of  brain  it  ascends  ; it  will  be  a very  delicate  point  to  cut  the 
feather,  and  divide  the  several  reasons  to  a nice  and  curious  reader, 
how  this  numerical  difference  in  the  brain  can  produce  effects  of  so 
vast  a difference  from  the  same  vapour,  as  to  be  the  sole  point  of  in- 
dividuation between  Alexander  the  Great,  Jack  of  Leyden,  and 
Monsieur  Descartes.  The  present  argument  is  the  most  abstracted 
that  ever  I engaged  in,  it  strains  my  faculties  to  their  highest  stretch  ; 
and  I desire  the  reader  to  attend  with  utmost  perpensity,  for  I now 
proceed  to  unravel  this  knotty  point 
There  is  in  mankind  a certain* 

* # • « • • 


t • • 


* 


And  this  I take  to  be  a clear  solution  of  the  matter. 

Having  therefore  so  narrowly  passed  through  this  intricate  difficulty, 
the  reader  will,  I am  sure,  agree  with  me  in  the  conclusion,  that  if  the 
moderns  mean  by  madness,  only  a disturbance  or  transposition  of  the 
brain,  by  force  of  certain  vapours  issuing  up  from  the  lower  faculties, 
then  has  this  madness  been  the  parent  of  all  those  mighty  revolutions 
chat  have  happened  in  empire,  in  philosophy,  and  in  religion.  For, 
the  brain,  in  its  natural  position  and  state  of  serenity,  disposeth  its 
owner  to  pass  his  life  in  the  common  forms,  without  any  thought  of 
subduing  multitudes  to  his  own  power,  his  reasons  or  his  visions ; and 

* Hie  multa  desiderantur. 


A TALE  OF  A TUB . 


237 


the  more  he  shapes  his  understanding  by  the  pattern  of  human  learn- 
ing, the  less  he  is  inclined  to  form  parties  after  his  particular  notions, 
because  that  instructs  him  in  his  private  infirmities  as  well  as  in  the 
stubborn  ignorance  of  the  people.  But  when  a man’s  fancy  gets 
astride  on  his  reason,  when  imagination  is  at  cults  with  the  senses,  and 
common  understanding,  as  well  as  common  sense,  is  kicked  out 
of  doors,  the  first  proselyte  he  makes,  is  himself,  and  when  that  is  once 
compassed,  the  difficulty  is  not  so  great  in  bringing  over  others  ; a 
strong  delusion  always  operating  from  without,  as  vigorously  as  from 
within.  For,  cant  and  vision  are  to  the  ear  and  the  eye,  the  same  that 
tickling  is  to  the  touch.  Those  entertainments  and  pleasures  we  most 
value  in  life,  are  such  as  dupe  and  play  the  wag  with  the  senses,  for 
if  we  take  an  examination  of  what  is  generally  understood  by  hap- 
piness, as  it  has  respect  either  to  the  understanding  or  the  senses,  we 
shall  find  all  its  properties  and  adjuncts  will  herd  under  this  short  de- 
finition, that  it  is  a perpetual  possession  of  being  well  deceived.  And 
first,  with  relation  to  the  mind  or  understanding,  ’tis  manifest  what 
mighty  advantages  fiction  has  over  truth,  and  the  reason  is  just  at  our 
elbow,  because  imagination  can  build  nobler  scenes,  and  produce  more 
wonderful  revolutions  than  fortune  or  nature  will  be  at  expense  to 
furnish.  Nor  is  mankind  so  much  to  blame  in  his  choice  thus  deter- 
mining him,  if  we  consider  that  the  debate  merely  lies  between  things- 
past  and  things  conceived  ; and  so  the  question  is  only  this — whether 
things,  that  have  place  in  the  imagination  may  not  as  properly  be  said 
to  exist  as  those  that  are  seated  in  the  memory,  which  may  be  justly 
field  in  the  affirmative,  and  very  much  to  the  advantage  of  the  former, 
since  this  is  acknowledged  to  be  the  womb  of  things,  and  the  other 
allowed  to  be  no  more  than  the  grave.  Again,  if  we  take  this  defini- 
tion of  happiness,  and  examine  it  with  reference  to  the  senses,  it  will  be 
acknowleogeTwonderfuily  adapt.  How  fading  and  insipid  do  all  ob- 
jects accost  us  that  are  not  conveyed  in  the  vehicle  of  delusion.  How 
shrunk  is  everything  as  it  appears  in  the  glass  of  Nature  ! so  that  if  it 
were  not  for  the  assistance  of  artificial  mediums,  false  lights,  refracted 
angles,  varnish  and  tinsel,  there  would  be  a mighty  level  in  the  felicity 
and  enjoyments  ot  mortal  men.  If  this  were  seriously  considered  by 
the  world,  as  I have  a certain  reason  to  suspect  it  hardly  will,  men 
would  no  longer  reckon  among  their  high  points  of  wisdom  the  art  of 
exposing  weak  sides,  and  publishing  infirmities  ; an  employment  in  my 
opinion,  neither  better  nor  worse  than  that  of  unmasking,  which,  I 
think,  has  never  been  allowed  fair  usage,  either  in  the  world  or  the 
play-house. 

In  the  proportion  that  credulity  is  a more  peaceful  possession  of  the 
mind  than  curiosity,  so  far  preferable  is  that  wisdom  which  converses 
about  the  surface,  to  that  pretended  philosophy  which  enters  into  the 
depth  of  things,  and  then  comes  gravely  back  with  informations  and 
discoveries,  that  in  the  inside  they  are  good  for  nothing.  The  two 
senses  to  which  all  objects  first  address  themselves,  are  the  sight  and 
the  touch  ; these  never  examine  farther  than  the  colour,  the  shape,  the 
size,  ’Ifttt  whatever  other  qualities  dwell  or  are  drawn  by  art  upon  the 
outward  of  bodies,  and  then  comes  Reason  officiously,  with  tools  for  cut- 
ling,  and  opening,  and  mangling,  and  piercing,  offering  to  demonstrate 


233 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


that  they  are  not  of  the  same  consistence  quite  through.  Now  T take  all 
this  to  be  the  last  degree  of  perverting  Nature  ; one  of  whose  eternal 
laws  it  is,  to  put  her  best  furniture  forward.  And  therefore,  in  order 
to  save  the  charges  of  all  such  expensive  anatomy  for  the  time  to  come, 
I do  here  think  fit  to  inform  the  reader  that  in  such  conclusions  as 
these,  Reason  is  certainly  in  the  right,  and  that  in  most  corporeal  beings 
which  haWTdllen  under  my  cognizance,  the  outside  hath  been  infinitely 
preferable  to  the  in  ; whereof  I have  been  farther  convinced  from  some 
late  experiments.  Last  week  I saw  a woman  flayed,  and  you  will  hardly 
believe  how  much  it  altered  her  person  for  the  worse.  Yesterday  I 
ordered  the  carcass  of  a beau  to  be  stripped  in  my  presence,  when  we 
were  all  amazed  to  find  so  many  unsuspected  faults  under  one  suit  of 
clothes.  Then  I laid  open  his  brain,  his  heart  and  his  spleen,  but  I 
plainly  perceived  at  every  operation,  that  the  farther  we  proceeded  we 
found  the  defects  increase  upon  us  in  number  and  bulk,  from  all  which 
1 justly  formed  this  conclusion  to  myself ; that  whatever  philosopher 
or  projector  can  find  out  an  art  to  sodder  and  patch  up  the  flaws  and  im- 
perfections of  nature,  will  deserve  much  better  of  mankind,  and  teach  us 
a more  useful  science,  than  that  so  much  in  present  esteem  of  widening 
and  exposing  them  (like  him  who  held  anatomy  to  be  the  ultimate  end 
of  physic);  and  he  whose  fortunes  and  dispositions  have  placed  him  in 
a convenient  station  to  enjoy  the  fruits  of  this  noble  ait ; he  that  can 
with  Epicurus,  content  his  ideas  with  the  films  and  images  that  fly  off 
upon  his  senses  from  the  superficies  of  things,  such  a man  truly  wise 
creams  off  nature,  leaving  the  sour  and  the  dregs  for  philosophy  and 
reason  to  lap  up.  This  is  the  sublime  and  refined  point  of  felicity, 
called,  the  possession  of  being  well  deceived  ; the  serene  peaceful  state 
of  being  a fool  among  knaves. 

But  to  return  to  madness.  It  is  certain,  that  according  to  the  system 
I have  above  deduced,  every  species  thereof  proceeds  from  a redun- 
dancy of  vapour  ; therefore,  as  some  kinds  of  frenzy  give  double 
strength  to  the  sinews,  so  there  are  of  other  species,  which  add 
vigour,  and  life,  and  spirit  to  the  brain*;  now,  it  usually  happens  that 
these  active  spirits,  getting  possession  of  the  brain,  resemble  those  that 
haunt  other  waste  and  empty  dwellings,  which  for  want  of  business, 
either  vanish  and  carry  away  a piece  of  the  house,  or  else  stay  at  home 
and  fling  it  all  out  of  the  windows.  By  which  are  mystically  displayed 
the  two  principal  branches  of  madness,  and  which  some  philosophers 
not  considering  so  well  as  I,  have  mistook  to  be  different  in  their 
causes,  over-hastily  assigning  the  first  to  deficiency,  and  the  other  to 
redundance. 

I‘  think  it  therefore  manifest,  from  what  I have  here  advanced,  that 
the  main  point  of  skill  and  address  is  to  furnish  employment  for  this 
redundancy  of  vapour,  and  prudently  to  adjust  the  seasons  of  it,  by 
which  means  it  may  certainly  beeome  of  cardinal  and  catholic  emolu- 
ment in  a Commonwealth.  Thus  one  man  choosing  a proper  juncture 
ieaps  into  a gulf,  from  thence  proceeds  a hero,  and  is  called  the 
Saver  of  his  country  ; another  achieves  the  same  enterprise,  but  un- 
luckily timing  it,  has  left  the  brand  of  madness  fixed  as  a reproach 
upon  his  memory  ; upon  so  nice  a distinction  are  we  taught  to  repeat 
the  name  of  Curtius  with  reverence  and  love,  that  of  Empedocles,  with 


A TALE  OF  A TUB . 


239 


hatred  and  contempt  Thus  also  it  is  usually  conceived  that  the  elder 
Brutus  only  personated  the  fool  and  madman  for  the  good  of  the 
public  ; but  this  was  nothing  else  than  a redundancy  of  the  same 
vapour,  long  misapplied,  called  by  the  Latins  Ingenium  par  negotiis* 
or  to  translate  it  (as  nearly  as  I can),  a sort  of  frenzy  never  in  its 
/ight  element,  till  you  take  it  up  in  business  of  the  state. 

Upon  all  which,  and  mfeny  other  reasons  of  equal  weight,  though 
not  equally  curious,  I do  here  gladly  embrace  an  opportunity  I have 
long  sought  for — of  recommending  it  as  a very  noble  undertaking,  to 

Sir  E d S r,  Sir  C r M ve,  Sir  J ~n 

B Is,  J n H , Esq.,  and  other  patriots  concerned,  that 

they  would  move  for  leave  to  bring  in  a bill  for  appointing  commis- 
sioners to  inspect  into  Bedlam,  and  the  parts  adjacent,  who  shall  be 
empowered  to  send  for  persons,  papers,  and  records  ; to  examine  into 
the  merits  and  qualifications  of  every  student  and  professor  ; to  observe 
with  utmost  exactness  their  several  dispositions  and  behaviour ; by 
which  means,  duly  distinguishing  and  adapting  their  talents  they 
might  produce  admirable  instruments  for  the  several  offices  in  a State 

******  * civil  and  military,  proceeding  in  such 

methods  as  I shall  here  humbly  propose.  And  I hope  the  gentle 
reader  will  give  some  allowance  to  my  great  solicitudes  in  this  impor- 
tant affair,  upon  account  of  that  high  esteem  I have  ever  borne  that 
honourable  society,  whereof  I had  some  time  the  happiness  to  be  an 
unworthy  member. 

Is  any  student  tearing  his  straw  in  piece-meal,  swearing  and  blas- 
pheming, biting  his  grate,  foaming  at  the  mouth,  and  emptying  his 
pisspot  in  the  spectators’  faces  ? Let  the  Right  Worshipful  the  Com- 
missioners of  Inspection,  give  him  a regiment  of  dragoons  and  send 
him  into  Flanders  among  the  rest.  Is  another  eternally  talking,  sput- 
tering, gaping,  bawling,  in  a sound  without  period  or  article  ? What 
wonderful  talents  are  here  mislaid  ! Let  him  be  furnished  imme- 
diately with  a green  bag  and  papers,  and  threepencef  in  his  pocket, 
and  away  with  him  to  Westminster  Hall.  You  will  find  a third, 
gravely  taking  the  dimensions  of  his  kennel,  a person  of  foresight  and 
insight,  though  kept  quite  in  the  dark  ; for  why,  like  Moses,  Ecce  cor - 
nuta  erat  ejus  facies.  He  walks  duly  in  one  pace,  intreats  your  penny 
with  due  gravity  and  ceremony  ; talks  much  of  hard  times  and  taxes, 
and  the  Whore  of  Babylon  ; bars  up  the  wooden  of  his  cell  constantly 
at  eight  aclock  ; dreams  of  fire  and  shop-lifters,  and  court-customers, 
and  privileged  places.  Now,  what  a figure  would  all  these  acquire- 
ments amount  to,  if  the  owner  were  sent  into  the  city  among  his 
brethren  ! Behold  a fourth,  in  much  and  deep  conversation  with  him 
self,  biting  his  thumbs  at  proper  junctures,  his  countenance  chequered 
with  business  and  design,  sometimes  walking  very  fast,  with  his  eyes 
nailed  to  a paper  that  he  holds  in  his  hands  ; a great  saver  of  time, 
/ somewhat  thick  of  hearing,  very  short  of  sight,  but  more  of  memory. 
A man  ever  in  haste,  a great  hatcher  and  breeder  of  business,  and  ex- 
cellent at  the  famous  art  of  whispering  nothing.  A huge  idolater  of 
monosyllables  and  procrastination,  so  ready  to  give  his  word  to  every- 
body that  he  never  keeps  it  One  that  has  forgot  the  common  mean- 

# T acit*  | A lawyer’s  coach  hire. 


240 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


. V,«t  an  admirable  retainer  of  the  sound  ; extremely  sub- 

let to  the  looseness,  for  his  occasions  are  perpetually  calling  him  away. 

JTf  von  annroach  his  grate  in  his  familiar  intervals-"  Sir,”  says  he, 

“ Jve  me  a penny  and  I will  sing  you  a song,  but  give  me  the  penny 
first"  (Hence  comes  the  common  saying,  and  commoner  practice,  of 
first.  (Hence  c v/hat  a complete  system  of  court 

dbtv  vellow  with  a thin  scattered  beard,  exactly  agreeable  to  that  of 

smelL  The  MffKS  r, 

useful  a mem.be  , > that  illustrious  body?  Another  stu- 

Sent” mlenf .fiercely  to  "m  f£  iTn^tfkis^Th! 

no  hurt.  To  him  alon^  understand  that  this  solemn  person 

the  orator  of  the  place  £,  y considerable  student  is  adorned 

is  a tailor  run  mad  with  P^  ^ j shall  not  farther  ' 

with  many  other  qualities,  upon  which,  at  present,  i m , 

fam^strangeiy  mistaken** ' Sl’bM  address,  his  motions,  and  his  airs 

1 nm  then  be  very  natural,  and  in  their  proper  element. 

would  not  then  oe  very  ’ ;nsist  upon  the  vast  number  of 

. 1 IndTotol,  th,”  .h,  £o,ld  mifh.  recover  by 

beaux,  fiddlers,  poets,  ana  p mQ^  material,  besides  the  clear  gam 

StondS  the  Commonwealth,  by  so  large  an  «,msib„n  of  persons  j 
to  employ,  whose  i talents  an  q . d ;t  would  be  a mighty 

affirm  it,  are  now  buried  c w at  f f “quiry.that  all  these  would 

advantage  accruing  to  the  public^ front  tmsmq^  .7,^  k]naSj 

V' V WCthinke^ L manifest  from  what  I have  already  shown,  and  shall 

USSfi  - hard! 

mouthSSxLetogty  disposed 

LSr-STS  upon  S? 

alone,  without  a solemn  pron  - ^ ^ h^man  kind,  which,  perhaps, 

like  manner,  for  the  uni  reader  brimtul  of  that  modern  chanty 

» S'ofhce,  will  be  .«y  hardly  per- 

suade’d  to  believe* 


A TALE  OF  A TUB. 


241 


SECTION  X. 

IT  is  an  unanswerable  argument  of  a very  refined  age,  the  wonderful 
civilities  that  have  passed  of  late  years  between  the  nation  of 
authors  and  that  of  readers.  There  can  hardly  pop  out  a play,  a pam- 
phlet, or  a poem,  without  a preface  full  of  acknowledgments  to  the 
world  for  the  general  reception  and  applause  they  have  given  it,  which 
the  Lord  knows  where,  or  when,  or  how,  or  from  whom  it  received. 
In  due  deference  to  so  laudable  a custom,  I do  here  return  my  humble 
thanks  to  His  Majesty,  and  both  Houses  of  Parliament ; to  the  Lords 
of  the  King's  most  honourable  Privy  Council  ; to  the  Reverend  the 
Judges  ; to  the  Clergy,  and  Gentry,  and  Yeomanry  of  this  land  : but 
in  a more  especial  manner  to  my  worthy  Brethren  and  Friends  at 
Will's  Coffee-house,  and  Gresham  College,  and  Warwick  Lane,  and 
Moorfields,  and  Scotland  Yard,  and  Westminster  Hall,  and  Guild- 
hall ; in  short,  to  all  inhabitants  and  retainers  whatsoever,  either  in 
court,  or  church,  or  camp,  or  city,  or  country,  for  their  generous  and 
universal  acceptance  of  this  Divine  Treatise.  I accept  their  approba- 
tion and  good  opinion  with  extreme  gratitude,  and  to  the  utmost  of 
my  poor  capacity  shall  take  hold  of  all  opportunities  to  return  the 
obligation. 

I am  also  happy  that  Fate  has  flung  me  into  so  blessed  an  age  for 
the  mutual  felicity  of  booksellers  and  authors,  whom  I may  safely 
affirm  to  be  at  this  day  the  two  only  satisfied  parties  in  England.  Ask 
an  author  how  his  last  piece  hath  succeded  ; Why,  truly  he  thanks  his 
stars  the  world  has  been  very  favourable,  and  he  has  not  the  least 

reason  to  complain  ; and  yet,  by  G , he  writ  it  in  a week  at  bits 

and  starts,  when  he  could  steal  an  hour  from  his  urgent  affairs,  as,  it  is 
a hundred  to  one,  you  may  see  farther  in  the  preface,  to  which  he  refers 
you,  and  for  the  rest  to  the  bookseller.  There  you  go  as  a customer, 
and  make  the  same  question  : “ He  blesses  his  God  the  thing  takes 
wonderful,  he  is  just  printing  a second  edition,  and  has  but  three  left 
in  his  shop.”  You  beat  down  the  price  : “ Sir,  we  shall  not  differ  and 
in  hopes  of  your  custom  another  time,  lets  you  have  it  as  reasonable  as 
you  please  : “ And,  pray  send  as  many  of  your  acquaintance  as  you 
will,  I shall  upon  your  account  furnish  them  all  at  the  same  rate.” 

Now,  it  is  not  well  enough  considered  to  what  accidents  and  occa- 
sions the  world  is  indebted  for  the  greatest  part  of  those  noble  writings, 
which  hourly  start  up  to  entertain  it.  If  it  were  not  for  a rainy  day,  a 
drunken  vigil,  a fit  of  the  spleen,  a course  of  physic,  a sleepy  Sunday, 
an  ill  run  at  dice,  a long  tailor's  bill,  a beggar's  purse,  a factious  head, 
a hot  sun,  costive  diet,  want  of  books,  and  a just  contempt  of  learning ; 
but  for  these  events,  I say,  and  some  others  too  long  to  recite  (especi- 
ally a prudent  neglect  of  taking  brimstone  inwardly),  I doubt  the 
number  of  authors  and  of  writings  would  dwindle  away  to  a degree 
most  woful  to  behold.  To  confirm  this  opinion  hear  the  words  of  the 
famous  Troglodite  philosopher  : “ 'Tis  certain,”  said  he,  “ some  grains 
of  folly  are,  of  course,  annexed,  as  part  in  the  composition  of  human 
nature,  only  the  choice  is  left  us  whether  we  please  to  wear  them  inlaid 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


242 

or  embossed  ; and  we  need  not  go  very  far  to  seek  how  that  is  usually 
determined,  when  we  remember  it  is  with  human  faculties  as  with 
liquors,  the  lightest  will  be  ever  at  the  top.” 

There  is  in  this  famous  Island  of  Britain  a certain  paltry  scribbler, 
very  voluminous,  whose  character  the  reader  cannot  wholly  be  a 
stranger  to  ; he  deals  in  a pernicious  kind  of  writings,  called  Second 
Parts,  and  usually  passes  under  the  name  of  “The  Author  of  the  First.” 
I easily  foresee  that  as  soon  as  I lay  down  my  pen  this  nimble  operator 
will  have  stole  it,  and  treat  me  as  inhumanly  as  he  hath  already  done 
Dr.  B1 — re,  L — ge,  and  many  others  who  shall  here  be  nameless.  I 
therefore  fly  for  justice  and  relief  into  the  hands  of  that  great  rectifier 
of  saddles  and  lover  of  mankind,  Dr.  B — tly,  begging  he  will  take  this 
enormous  grievance  into  his  most  modern  consideration  ; and  if  it 
should  so  happen  that  fhe  furniture  of  an  ass,  in  the  shape  of  a Second 
Part,  must  for  my  sins  be  clapped  by  a mistake  upon  my  back,  that  he 
will  immediately  please,  in'  the  presence  of  the  world,  to  lighten  me  of 
the  burthen,  and  take  it  home  to  his  own  house  till  the  true  beast 
thinks  fit  to  call  for  it 

In  the  mean  time  I do  here  give  this  public  notice,  that  my  resolu- 
tions are  to  circumscribe  within  this  discourse  the  whole  stock  of  matter 
I have  been  so  many  years  providing.  Since  my  vein  is  once  opened 
I am  content  to  exhaust  it  all  at  a running,  for  the  peculiar  advantage 
of  my  dear  country,  and  for  the  universal  benefit  of  mankind.  There- 
fore, hospitably  considering  the  number  of  my  guests,  they  shall  have 
my  whole  entertainment  at  a meal,  and  I scorn  to  set  up  the  leavings 
in  the  cupboard.  What  the  guests  cannot  eat  may  be  given  to  the 
poor,  and  the  dogs  under  the  table  may  gnaw  the  bones  ; this  I under- 
stand for  a more  generous  proceeding  than  to  turn  the  company’s 
stomachs  by  inviting  them  again  to-morrow  to  a scurvy  meal  of  scraps. 

If  the  reader  fairly  considers  the  strength  of  what  I have  advanced 
in  the  foregoing  section,  I am  convinced  it  will  produce  a wonderful 
revolution  in  his  notions  and  opinions,  and  he  will  be  abundantly  better 
prepared  to  receive  and  to  relish  the  concluding  part  of  this  miraculous 
treatise.  Readers  may  be  divided  into  three  classes,  the  superficial, 
the  ignorant,  and  the  learned  ; and  I have  with  much  felicity  fitted  my 
pen  to  the  genius  and  advantage  of  each.  'The  superficial  reader  will 
be  strangely  provoked  to  laughter,  which  clears  the  breast  and  the 
lungs,  is  sovereign  against  the  spleen,  and  the  most  innocent  of  all 
diuretics.  The  ignorant  reader  (between  whom  and  the  former  the 
distinction  is  extremely  nice)  will  find  himself  disposed  to  stare,  which 
is  an  admirable  remedy  for  ill  eyes,  serves  to  raise  and  enliven  the 
spirits,  and  wonderfully  helps  perspiration.  But  the  reader  truly  learned, 
chiefly  for  whose  benefit  I wake  when  others  sleep,  and  sleep  when 
others  wake,  will  here  find  sufficient  matter  to  employ  his  speculations 
for  the  rest  of  his  life.  It  were  much  to  be  wished,  and  I do  here 
humbly  propose  for  an  experiment,  that  every  Prince  in  Christendom 
will  take  seven  of  the  deepest  scholars  in  his  dominions  and  shut  them 
up  close  for  seven  years  in  seven  chambers,  with  a command  to  write 
seven  ample  commentaries  on  this  comprehensive  discourse.  I shall 
venture  to  affirm  that  whatever  difference  may  be  tound  in  their  several 
cor  lectures,  they  will  be  all,  without  the  least  distortion,  manifestly 


A TALE  OF  A TUB . 


*43 

dedudble  from  the  text.  Meantime,  it  is  my  earnest  request,  that  so 
useful  an  undertaking  may  be  entered  upon  (if  their  Majesties  please) 
with  all  convenient  speed  ; because,  I have  a strong  inclination,  before 
I leave  the  world,  to  taste  a blessing  which  we  mysterious  writers  can 
seldom  reach  till  we  have  got  into  our  graves.  Whether  it  is,  that  fame, 
being  a fruit  grafted  on  the  body,  can  hardly  grow,  and  much  less  ripen, 
till  the  stock  is  in  the  earth  ; or,  whether  she  be  a bird  of  prey,  and  is 
lured  among  the  rest  to  pursue  after  the  scent  of  a carcass  ; or,  whether 
she  conceives  her  trumpet  sounds  best  and  farthest  when  she  stands 
on  a tomb,  by  the  advantage  of  a rising  ground,  and  the  echo  of  a 
hollow  vault. 

'Tis  true,  indeed,  the  republic  of  dark  authors,  after  they  once  found 
out  this  excellent  expedient  of  dying,  hav*'  been  peculiarly  happy  in 
the  variety  as  well  as  extent  of  their  reputation  For,  Night  being  the 
universal  mother  of  things,  wise  philosophers  hold  all  writings  to  be 
fruitful  in  the  proportion  they  are  dark  ; and  therefore,  the  true  illumi- 
nated* (that  is  to  say,  the  darkest  of  all)  have  met  with  such  numberless 
commentators,  whose  scholastic  midwifery  hath  delivered  them  of 
meanings  that  the  authors  themselves  perhaps  never  conceived,  and 
yet  may  very  justly  be  allowed  the  lawful  parents  of  them  ; the  words 
of  such  writers  being  like  seed,  which,  however  scattered  at  random, 
when  they  light  ujpn  a fruitful  ground,  will  multiply  far  beyond  either 
the  hopes  or  imagination  of  the  sower. 

And  therefore,  in  order  to  promote  so  useful  a work,  I will  here  take 
leave  to  glance  a few  innuendoes  that  may  be  of  great  assistance  to 
those  sublime  spirits  who  shall  be  appointed  to  labour  in  a universal 
comment  upon  this  wonderful  discourse.  And  first,  I have  couched  a 
very  profound  mystery  in  the  number  of  O’s  multiplied  by  seven  and 
divided  by  nine.  Also,  if  a devout  brother  of  the  Rosy  Cross  will  pray 
fervently  for  sixty  three  mornings,  with  a lively  faith,  and  then  transpose 
certain  letters  and  syllables  according  to  prescription,  in  the  second 
and  fifth  section,  they  will  certainly  reveal  into  a full  receipt  of  the 
opus  magnum.  Lastly,  whoever  will  be  at  the  pains  to  calculate  the 
whole  number  of  each  letter  in  this  treatise,  and  sum  up  the  difference 
exactly  between  the  several  numbers,  assigning  the  true  natural  cause 
for  every  such  difference,  the  discoveries  in  the  product  will  plentifully 
reward  his  labour.  But  then  he  must  beware  of  Bythus  and  Sige,  and 
be  sure  not  to  forget  the  qualities  of  Acamoth  : a cujus  lachrymis 
humecta  prodit  substantia , a nsu  lucida , a tristitia  solida , et  a timore 
mobilis,  wherein  Eugenius  Philalethes  t hath  committed  an  unpar- 
donable mistake. 


SECTION  XI. 

AFTER  so  wide  a compass  as  I have  wandered,  I do  now  gladly 
overtake,  and  close  in  with  my  subject,  and  shall  henceforth  hold 
on  with  it  an  even  pace  to  the  end  of  my  journey,  except  some  beauti- 

* A name  of  the  Rosicrucians. 
t Vid.  Anima  Magica  Abscondiia . 

1 6 — 2 


244 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


ful  prospect  appears  within  sight  of  my  way  ; whereof,  though  at  pre- 
sent i have  neither  warning  nor  expectation,  yet  upon  such  an  accident, 
come  when  it  will,  I shall  beg  my  reader’s  favour  and  company,  allow- 
ing me  to  conduct  him  through  it  along  with  myself.  F or  in  writing 
it  is  as  in  travelling  : if  a man  is  in  haste  to  be  at  home  (which  I ac- 
knowledge to  be  none  of  my  case,  having  never  so  little  business  as 
when  I am  there),  if  his  horse  be  tired  with  long  riding,  and  ill  ways, 
or  be  naturally  a jade,  I advise  him  clearly  to  make  the  straightest  and 
the  commonest  road,  be  it  ever  so  dirty  ; but,  then  surely,  we  must  own 
such  a man  to  be  a scurvy  companion  at  best ; he  spatters  himself  and 
his  fellow-travellers  at  every  step  : all  their  thoughts,  and  wishes,  and 
conversation  turn  entirely  upon  the  subject  of  their  journey’s  end  ; and 
at  every  splash,  and  plunge, and  stumble,  they  heartily  wish  one  another 
at  the  devil. 

On  the  other  side,  when  a traveller  and  his  horse  are  in  heart  and 
plight,  when  his  purse  is  full,  and  the  day  before  him,  he  takes  the  road 
only  where  it  is  clean  or  convenient ; entertains  his  company  there  as 
agreeably  as  he  can  ; but  upon  the  first  occasion,  carries  them  along 
with  him  to  every  delightful  scene  in  view,  whether  of  art,  of  nature,  or 
of  both  ; and  if  they  chance  to  refuse  out  of  stupidity  or  weariness ; 

let  them  jog  on  by  themselves,  and  be  d n’d  ; he’ll  overtake  them  at 

the  next  town  ; at  which  arriving,  he  rides  furiously?  through,  the  men, 
women,  and  children  run  out  to  gaze,  a hundred  noisy  curs  run  barking 
after  him,  of  which,  if  he  honours  the  boldest  with  a lash  of  his  whip, 
it  is  rather  out  of  sport  than  revenge  ; but  should  some  sourer  mongrel 
dare  too  near  an  approach,  he  receives  a salute  on  the  chaps  by  an 
accidental  stroke  from  the  courser’s  heels  (nor  is  any  ground  lost  by 
the  blow),  which  sends  him  yelping  and  limping  home. 

I now  proceed  to  sum  up  the  singular  adventures  of  my  renowned 
Jack  ; the  state  of  whose  dispositions  and  fortunes  the  careful  reader 
does,  no  doubt,  most  exactly  remember,  as  I last  parted  with  them  in 
the  conclusion  of  a former  section.  Therefore  his  next  care  must  be 
from  two  of  the  foregoing  to  extract  a scheme  of  notions,  that  may 
best  fit  his  understanding  for  a true  relish  of  what  is  to  ensue. 

Jack  had  not  only  calculated  the  first  revolution  of  his  brain  so  pru- 
dently, as  to  give  rise  to  that  epidemic  sect  of  ^olists,  but  succeeding 
also  into  a new  and  strange  variety  of  conceptions,  the  fruitfulness  of 
his  imagination  led  him  into  certain  notions,  which,  although  in  ap- 
pearance very  unaccountable,  were  not  without  their  mysteries  and 
their  meanings,  nor  wanted  followers  to  countenance  and  improve 
them.  I shall  therefore  be  extremely  careful  and  exact  in  recounting 
such  material  passages  of  this  nature,  as  I have  been  able  to  collect, 
either  from  undoubted  tradition,  or  indefatigable  reading,  and  shall 
describe  them  as  graphically  as  it  is  possible,  and  as  far  as  notions  of 
that  height  and  latitude  can  be  brought  within  the  compass  of  a pen. 
Nor  do  I at  all  question  but  they  will  furnish  plenty  of  noble  matter 
for  such  whose  converting  imaginations  dispose  them  to  reduce  all 
things  into  types  ; who  can  make  shadows,  no  thanks  to  the  sun,  and 
then  mould  them  into  substances,  no  thanks  to  philosophy  ; whose 
peculiar  talent  lies  in  fixing  tropes  and  allegories  to  the  letter,  and  re- 
fining what  is  literal  into  figure  and  mystery. 


A TALE  OF  A TUB. 


24$ 


Jack  had  provided  a fair  copy  of  his  fathers  will,  engrossed  inform 
upon  a large  skin  of  parchment ; and  resolving  to  act  the  part  of  a 
most  dutiful  son,  he  became  the  fondest  creature  of  it  imaginable. 
For,  although,  as  I have  often  told  the  reader,  it  consisted  wholly  in 
certain  plain  easy  directions  about  the  management  and  wearing  of 
their  coats,  with  legacies  and  penalties,  in  case  of  obedience  or  neglect ; 
yet  he  began  to  entertain  a fancy  that  the  matter  was  deeper  and  darker, 
and  therefore  must  needs  have  a great  deal  more  of  mystery  at  the 
bottom.  “ Gentlemen,”  said  he,  “ I will  prove  this  very  skin  of  parch- 
ment to  be  meat,  drink,  and  cloth,  to  be  the  philosopher’s  stone,  and 
the  universal  medicine.”  In  consequence  of  which  raptures,  he  resolved 
to  make  use  of  it  in  the  most  necessary,  as  well  as  the  most  paltry  occa- 
tions  of  life.  He  had  a way  of  working  it  into  any  shape  h^pleased  ; 
so  that  it  served  him  for  a nightcap  when  he  went  to  bed,  and  for  an 
umbrella  in  rainy  weather.  He  would  lap  a piece  of  it  about  a sore 
toe,  or  when  he  had  fits,  burn  two  inches  under  his  nose  ; or  if  any 
thing  lay  heavy  on  his  stomach,  scrape  off,  and  swallow  as  much  of  the 
powder  as  would  lie  on  a silver  penny,  they  were  all  infallible  remedies. 
With  analogy  to  these  refinements,  his  common  talk  and  conversation 
ran  wholly  in  the  phrase  of  his  will,  and  h«  circumscribed  the  utmost  of 
his  eloquence  within  that  compass,  not  daring  to  let  slip  a syllable  with- 
out authority  from  thence.  Once  at  a strange  house,  he  was  suddenly 
taken  short,  upon  an  urgent  juncture,  whereon  it  may  not  be  allowed 
too  particularly  to  dilate  ; and  being  not  able  to  call  to  mind,  with  that 
suddenness  the  occasion  required,  an  authentic  phrase  for  demanding 
the  way  to  the  backside,  he  chose  rather  as  the  more  prudent  course, 
to  incur  the  penalty  in  such  cases  usually  annexed.  Neither  was  it 
possible  for  the  united  rhetoric  of  mankind  to  prevail  with  him  to  make 
himself  clean  again,  because,  having  consulted  the  will  upon  this 
emergency,  he  met  with  a passage  near  the  bottom  (whether  foisted  in 
by  the  transcriber  is  not  known)  which  seemed  to  forbid  it. 

He  made  it  a part  of  his  religion,  never  to  say  grace  to  his  meat,  nor 
could  all  the  world  persuade  him,  as  the  common  phrase  is,  to  eat  his 
victuals  like  a Christian. 

He  bore  a strange  kind  of  appetite  to  snap-dragon,  and  to  the  livid 
snuffs  of  a burning  candle,  which  he  would  catch  and  swallow  with  an 
agility  wonderful  to  conceive ; and  by  this  procedure  maintained  a 
perpetual  flame  in  his  belly,  which,  issuing  in  a glowing  steam  from  both 
his  eyes,  as  well  as  his  nostrils  and  his  mouth,  made  his  head  appear 
in  a dark  night,  like  the  scull  of  an  ass,  wherein  a roguish  boy  hath 
conveyed  a farthing  candle,  to  the  terror  of  his  Majesty’s  liege  subjects. 
Therefore,  he  made  use  of  no  other  expedient  to  light  himself  home, 
but  was  wont  to  say  that  a wise  man  was  his  own  lantern. 

He  would  shut  his  eyes  as  he  walked  along  the  streets,  and  if  he 
happened  to  bounce  his  head  against  a post,  or  fall  into  the  kennel  (as 
he  seldom  missed  either  to  do  one  or  both)  he  would  tell  the  gibing 
prentices,  who  looked  on,  that  he  submitted  with  entire  resignation,  as 
to  a trip,  or  a blow  of  fate,  with  whom  he  found,  by  long  experience, 
how  vain  it  was  either  to  wrestle  or  to  cuff,  and  whoever  durst  under- 
take to  do  either  would  be  sure  to  come  off  with  a swinging  fall  or  a 
bloody  nose.  “ It  was  ordained,”  said  he,  “ some  few  days  beiore  the 


246 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


creation,  that  my  nose  and  this  very  post  should  have  a rencounter;  and, 
therefore,  providence  thought  fit  to  send  us  both  intotheworld  in  the  same 
age,  and  to  make  us  countrymen  and  fellow-citizens.  Now,  had  my  eyes 
been  open,  it  is  very  likely  the  business  might  have  been  a great  deal 
worse  ; for  how  many  a confounded  slip  is  daily  got  by  man,  with  all 
his  foresight  about  him  ! Besides,  the  eyes  of  the  understanding  see 
best  when  those  of  the  senses  are  out  of  the  way,  and  therefore,  blind 
men  are  observed  to  tread  their  steps  with  much  more  caution,  and 
conduct,  and  judgment,  than  those  who  rely  with  too  much  confidence 
upon  the  virtue  of  the  visual  nerve,  which  every  little  accident  shakes 
out  of  order,  and  a drop  or  a film  can  wholly  disconcert,  like  a lantern 
among  a pack  of  roaring  bullies  when  they  scour  the  streets,  exposing 
its  owngr  and  itself  to  outward  kicks  and  buffets,  which  both  might 
have  escaped  if  the  vanity  of  appearing  would  have  suffered  them  to 
walk  in  the  dark.  But,  further,  if  we  examine  the  conduct  of  these 
boasted  lights,  it  will  prove  yet  a great  deal  worse  than  their  fortune. 
*Tis  true,  I have  broke  my  nose  against  this  post,  because  Providence 
either  forgot  or  did  not  think  it  convenient  to  twitch  me  by  the  elbow, 
and  give  me  notice  to  avoid  it  But,  let  not  this  encourage  either  the 
present  age  or  posterity  to  trust  their  noses  into  the  keeping  of  their  eyes, 
which  may  prove  the  fairest  way  of  losing  them  for  good  and  all.  For, 
O ye  eyes,  ye  blind  guides,  miserable  guardians  are  ye  of  our  frail 
noses  ; ye,  I say,  who  fasten  upon  the  first  precipice  in  view,  and  then 
tow  our  wretched  willing  bodies  after  you,  to  the  very  brink  of  destruc- 
tion ; but,  alas,  that  brink  is  rotten,  our  feet  slip,  and  we  tumble  down 
prone  into  a gulf,  without  one  hospitable  shrub  in  the  way  to  break  the 
fall,  a fall  to  which  not  any  nose  of  mortal  make  is  equal,  except  that  of 
the  giant,  Laurcalco,*  who  was  Lord  of  the  Silver  Bridge.  Most  properly, 
therefore,  O eyes,  and  with  great  justice,  may  you  be  compared  to  those 
foolish  lights  which  conduct  men  through  dirt  and  darkness  till  they 
fall  into  a deep  pit  or  a noisome  bog.” 

This  I have  produced,  as  a scantling  of  Jack’s  great  eloquence,  and 
the  force  of  his  reasoning  upon  such  abstruse  matters. 

He  was,  besides,  a person  of  great  design  and  improvement  in  affairs 
of  devotion,  having  introduced  a new  Deity,  who  hath  since  met  with 
a vast  number  of  worshippers  ; by  some  called  Babel,  by  others  Chaos  ; 
who  had  an  ancient  temple  of  Gothic  structure  upon  Salisbury  Plain  ; 
famous  for  its  shrine,  and  celebration  by  pilgrims. 

When  we  had  some  roguish  trick  to  play,  he  would  down  with  his 
knees,  up  with  his  eyes,  and  fall  to  prayers,  though  in  the  midst  of  the 
kennel.  Then  it  was  that  those  who  understood  his  pranks  would  be 
sure  to  get  far  enough  out  of  his  way  ; and  whenever  curiosity  attracted 
strangers  to  laugh  or  to  listen,  he  would  of  a sudden,  with  one  hand, 
out  with  his  gear,  and  piss  full  in  their  eyes,  and  with  the  other,  all  to 
bespatter  them  with  mud. 

In  winter  he  went  always  loose  and  unbuttoned,  and  clad  as  thin  as 
possible,  to  let  in  the  ambient  heat ; and  in  summer  lapt  himself  close 
and  thick  to  keep  it  out. 

In  all  revolutions  of  government  he  would  make  his  court  tor  the 
• Vide  Don  Quixote* 


A TALE  OF  A TUB.  #47 

office  of  Hangman  General ; and  in  the  exercise  „ffW  A-  , 

V"y  ■”"“*  »f  no  o.h.r’Sr.taV,15,™" 

SSS&^S^SSSS 

the  tLImula;  anl  wodd  rt'do^d  atVh0  ^ ^ the  St,'n^  <* 
a pair  of  bagpipes.  But  he  wnnlH  ^ at  t^e  n°ise  of  music,  especially 

or  three  turns  in  Westminster  Hall  or^ilh^  f fgam  by  taking  two 

“SV/ ,,be  R”yai  HoSs”  .fsssr  m * '**•***- 

opS,  that  b“‘  “'0"aU,,  h*"<*  »"■  a"d 

-his  paroxysms, Uas  waited  the  StZA°  that  in 

loaden  with  stones,  to  pelt  at  th^ signs.  ’ h W°Uld  haVC  hlS  Pockets 

he  would8 often1  leap1  over  head ande^”1  occasions  to  wash  himself, 
in  the  midst  of  thMS b£  was alwavs  th°Ugh  11  werc 

much  dirtier,  if  possible,  than  he  went  in  bserved  t0  come  out  aSa*n 

oolphur  and  balm  of  Gilead, K"a  VSfe  Jta  * C°“P'>"n‘1 

fe,v. rrch-  '•ith ,h' 

upon  application  of  a red-hot  iron  ° S the  famous  boa'd 

rs  ™,sr8  ,o  ,hr  «*• 
a^'£K  ,bi°  r^aTar;  fc* ™ * 

ear  from  your ^ladyship’s  fair  1 entreat  asma11  box  on  the 

thwack,  for  the  love  of  God  wkh  ?tw  °ble  CTain’  ^treasonable 
shoulders.”  And  when  he  hid  hv  c .Cane  ot  you^  over  these  poor 

piiS^is 

this  very  morning  at  seven  aclock  as  with  ™ V ? t y ga'  e 11  me 
the  great  Tm-t- » « m ui  ^’  ’ WIth  much  ado,  I was  dr  vine  off 

\ la,h  not  (God  bl'“  «•>  y 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


248 


rogueries  that  forced  him  to  abscoq/d,  and  he  seldom  ventured  to  stif 
out  before  night,  for  fear  of  bailiffs.  Their  lodgings  were  at  the  two 
most  distant  parts  of  the  town  from  each  other  ; and  whenever  their 
occasions  or  humours  called  them  abroad  they  would  make  choice  of 
the  oddest  unlikely  times,  and  most  uncouth  rounds  they  could  invent, 
that  they  might  be  sure  to  avoid  one  another  ; yet  after  all  this,  it  was 
their  perpetual  fortune  to  meet.  The  reason  of  which  is  easy  enough 
to  apprehend  ; for  the  frenzy  and  the  spleen  of  both  having  the  same 
foundation,  we  may  look  upon  them  as  two  pair  of  compasses,  equally 
extended,  and  the  fixed  foot  of  each  remaining  in  the  same  centre  ; 
which,  though  moving  contrary  ways  at  first,  will  be  sure  to  encounter 
somewhere  or  other  in  the  circumference.  Besides,  it  was  among  the 
great  misfortunes  of  Jack  to  bear  a huge  personal  resemblance  with  his 
brother  Peter.  Their  humour  and  dispositions  were  not  only  the  same, 
but  there  was  a close  analogy  in  their  shape,  their  size,  and  their  mien. 
Insomuch  as  nothing  was  more  frequent  than  for  a bailiff  to  seize  Jack 
by  the  shoulders  ancf  cry,  “ Mr.  Peter,  you  are  the  King’s  prisoner.” 
Or,  at  other  times,  for  one  of  Peter’s  nearest  friends  to  accost  Jack 
with  open  arms,  “ Dear  Peter,  I am  glad  to  see  thee,  pray  send  me  one 
of  your  best  medicines  for  the  worms.”  This,  we  may  suppose,  was  a 
mortifying  return  of  those  pains  and  proceedings  Jack  had  laboured  in 
so  long  ; and  finding  how  directly  opposite  all  his  endeavours  had 
answered  to  the  sole  end  and  intention,  which  he  had  proposed  to  him- 
self, how  could  it  avoid  having  terrible  effects  upon  a head  and  heart 
so  furnished  as  his  ? However,  the  poor  remainders  of  his  coat  bore 
all  the  punishment ; the  orient  sun  never  entered  upon  his  diurnal 
progress,  without  missing  a piece  of  it.  He  hired  a tailor  to  stitch  up 
the  collar  so  close  that  it  was  ready  to  choke  him,  and  squeezed  out  his 
eyes  at  such  a rate,  as  one  could  see  nothing  but  the  white.  What 
little  was  left  of  the  main  substance  of  the  coat  he  rubbed  every  day  for 
two  hours  against  a rough-cast  wall,  in  order  to  grind  away  the  rem- 
nants of  lace  and  embroidery  ; but  at  the  same  time  went  on  with  so 
much  violence,  that  he  proceeded  a heathen  philosopher.  Yet  after  all 
he  could  do  of  this  kind,  the  success  continued  still  to  disappoint  his 
expectation.  For,  as  it  is  the  nature  of  rags,  to  bear  a kind  of  mock 
resemblance  to  finery,  there  being  a sort  of  fluttering  appearance  in 
both,  which  is  not  to  be  distinguished  at  a distance  in  the  dark,  or  by 
short-sighted  eyes  ; so,  in  those  junctures,  it  fared  with  Jack  and  his 
tatters,  that  they  offered  to  the  first  view  a ridiculous  flaunting,  which 
assisting  the  resemblance  in  person  and  air,  thwarted  all  his  projects 
of  separation,  and  left  so  near  a similitude  between  them,  as  frequently 
deceived  the  very  disciples  and  followers  of  both.* 

# * • * * • 

• •••#* 


The  old  Sclavonian  proverb  said  well,  “ That  it  is  with  men  as  wfth 
asses ; whoever  would  keep  them  fast  must  find  a very  good  hold  at 
* Desunt  nonnulla* 


A TALE  OF  A TUB. 


*49 


Yet  1 thLink  we  ma-v  affirm,  and  it  hath  been  verified  by 
repeated  experience,  that  J 

Effugiet  tamen  hcec  sceleratus  vincula  Proteus. 

*dw!f  g°°d therefore  read  the  maxims  of  our  ancestors,  with  great 
wi  7£i?Ci!  * Tes  and  pe,rsons  ; for’  if  we  look  int0  primitive  records, 
u nd  tbat  n°  rfvoiudons  have  been  so  great  or  so  frequent  as 
cxtrh  ^l}nian  tarS*  ^ former  days  there  was  a curious  invention  to 
^n<lveept^ei5  Vwhlch’ 1 think>  we  may  justly  reckon  among  the 
And  hovv.can  k be  otherwise,  when  in  these  latter 
l . lery  species  13  not  only  diminished  to  a very  lamentable 
nn?  cifi ini  ♦ * P°°^  r?Jnainder  is  also  degenerated  so  far  as  to  mock 
Zl*SSt  £nure  * F or  lf  the  only  slitting  of  one  ear  in  a stag  hath 
h i , , sufficient  to  propagate  the  defect  through  a whole  forest, 
Z/J  Jd  we1wonder  at  the  greatest  consequences  from  so  many  lop-' 
P ngsKand  mutilations,  to  which  the  ears  of  our  fathers  and  our  own 

idJnHr11  °f  atC  S°  *?uch  exPosed  ? >Tis  true,  indeed,  that  while  this 
island  of  ours  was  under  the  dominion  of  grace,  many  endeavours  were 
made  to  improve  the  growth  of  ears  once  more  among  us.  The  pro- 
poition  of  largeness  was  not  only  looked  upon  as  an  ornament  of  the  out- 
^a„r^a.n>  bat  as  a type  of  grace  in  the  inward.  Besides,  it  is  held  by 
lf  there  be  a Protuherancy  of  parts  in  the  superior 
region  of  the  body,  as  in  the  ears  and  nose,  there  must  be  a paritv  also 
in  the  inferior.  And  therefore  in  that  truly  pious  age  the  males  in 
every  assembly,  according  as  they  were  gifted,  appeared  very  forward 
m exposing  their  ears  to  view  and  the  regions  about  them  ; because 
ippocrates  tells  us  that  when  the  vein  behind  the  ear  happens  to  be 
Fu  la?1t?-becon\es  a eunuck;  and  the  females  were  nothing  backwarder 
m beholding  and  edifying  by  them.  Whereof  those  who  had  already 
used  the  means,  looked  about  them  with  great  concern  in  hopes  of con- 
ceivmg  a suitable  offspring  by  such  a prospect.  Others,  who  stood 
candidates  for  benevolence,  found  there  a plentiful  choice,  and  were 
sure  to  nx  upon  such  as  discovered  the  largest  ears,  that  the  breed 
might  not  dwindle  between  them.  Lastly,  the  devouter  sisters,  who 
ooked  upon  all  extraordinary  dilatations  of  that  member,  as  protrusions 
ot  zeal,  or  spiritual  excrescencies,  were  sure  to  honour  every  head  they 
bat  upon,  as  if  they  had  been  cloven  tongues  ; but  especially  that  of 
the  preacher,  whose  ears  were  usually  of  the  prime  magnitude  ; which 
upon  that  account  he  was  very  frequent  and  exact  in  .exposing  with  all 
van  ,a£e3  *' ° people  ; in  his  rhetorical  paroxysms  turning  some- 
times  to  hold  forth  the  one,  and  sometimes  to  hold  forth  the  other. 

om  which  custom  the  whole  operation  of  preaching  is  to  this  very 
cay,  among  their  professors,  styled  by  the  phrase  of  “ holding  forth” 
was  the  progress  of  the  Saints,  for  advancing  the  size  of  that 
”e^andlt  1S  thought  the  success  would  have  been  everyway 
anKS^^able» lf  ln  Process  of  time  a cruel  king  had  not  aroso,  who  raised 
whirh  c persecutl0n  against  all  ears  above  a certain  standard  : upon 
bordpr  nth*  Were  g Ji0  blde  tbeir  Nourishing  sprouts  in  a black 
e , others  crept  wholly  under  a periwig  : some  were  slit,  others 

* Lib*  de  aere  locis  et  aquis. 


25° 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORSTS. 


cropped,  and  a great  number  sliced  off  to  the  stumps.  But  of  this, 
more  hereafter,  in  my  General  History  of  Ears  which  I design 
very  speedily  to  bestow  upon  the  public. 

From  this  brief  survey  of  the  falling  state  of  ears,  in  the  last  age,  and 
the  small  care  had  to  advance  their  ancient  growth  in  the  present,  it  is 
manifest,  how  little  reason  we  can  have  to  rely  upon  a hold  so  short, 
so  weak,  and  so  slippery  ; and  that,  whoever  desires  to  catch  mankind 
fast,  must  have  recourse  to  some  other  methods.  Now,  he  that  will 
examine  human  nature  with  circumspection  enough,  may  discover 
several  handles,  whereof  the  six  senses*  afford  one  apiece,  beside  a 
great  number  that  are  screwed  to  the  passions,  and  some  few  riveted 
to  the  intellect.  Among  these  last  curiosity  is  one,  and  of  all  others 
affords  the  firmest  grasp  : curiosity,  that  spur  in  the  side,  that  bridle 
in  the  mouth,  that  ring  in  the  nose,  of  a lazy,  an  impatient,  and  a 
grunting  reader.  By  this  handle  it  is.  that  an  author  should  seize  upon 
his  readers  ; which,  as  soon  as  he  hath  once  compassed,  all  resistance 
and  struggling  are  in  vain  ; and  they  become  his  prisoners  as  close  as 
he  pleases,  till  weariness  or  dulness  force  him  to  let  go  his  gripe. 

And  therefore  I,  the  author  of  this  miraculous  treatise,  having 
hitherto  beyond  expectation  maintained  by  the  aforesaid  handle  a 
firm  hold  upon  my  gentle  readers  ; it  is  with  great  reluctance  that  I 
am  at  length  compelled  to  remit  my  grasp  ; leaving  them  in  the  peru- 
sal of  what  remains,  to  that  natural  oscitancy  inherent  in  the  tribe.  I 
can  only  assure  thee,  courteous  reader,  for  both  our  comforts,  that  my 
concern  is  altogether  equal  to  thine,  for  my  unhappiness  in  losing,  or 
mislaying  among  my  papers  the  remaining  part  of  these  memoirs  ; 
which  consisted  of  accidents,  turns,  and  adventures,  both  new,  agree- 
able, and  surprising  ; and  therefore,  calculated  in  all  due  points  to  the 
delicate  taste  of  this  our  noble  age.  But,  alas,  with  my  utmost  endea- 
vours, I have  been  able  only  to  retain  a few  of  the  heads.  Under 
which  there  was  a full  account,  how  Peter  got  a protection  out  of  the 
King’s  Bench  ; and  of  a reconcilement  between  Jack  and  him,  upon  a 
design  they  had  in  a certain  rainy  night,  to  trepan  brother  Martin  into 
a sponging-house,  and  there  strip  him  to  the  skin.  How  Martin,  with 
much  ado,  showed  them  both  a fair  pair  of  heels.  How  a new  warrant 
came  out  against  Peter  : upon  which  how  Jack  left  him  in  the  lurch, 
stole  his  protection,  and  made  use  of  it  himself.  How  Jack’s  tatters 
came  into  fashion  in  court  and  city  ; how  he  got  upon  a great  horse, 
and  eat  custard.  But  the  particulars  of  all  these,  with  several  others, 
which  have  now  slid  out  of  my  memory,  are  lost  beyond  all  hopes  of 
recovery.  For  which  misfortune,  leaving  my  readers  to  condole  with 
each  other,  as  far  as  they  shall  find  it  to  agree  with  their  several  con- 
stitutions, but  conjuring  them  by  all  the  friendship  that  hath  passed 
betvreen  us,  from  the  title-page  to  this,  not  to  proceed  so  far  as  to  injure 
their  healths,  for  an  accident  past  remedy,  I now  go  on  to  the  cere- 
monial part  of  an  accomplished  writer,  and,  therefore,  by  a courtly 
modern,  least  of  all  others  to  be  omitted. 


° Including  Scaligerlfc 


A TALE  OF  A TUB , 


*5« 


THE  CONCLUSION. 

GOING  too  long  is  a cause  of  abortion  as  effectual,  though  not  so 
frequent,  as  going  too  short ; and  holds  true  especially  in  the 
labours  of  the  brain.  Well  fare  the  heart  of  that  noble  Jesuit,*  who  first 
adventured  to  confess  in  print,  that  books  must  be  suited  to  their 
several  seasons,  like  dress,  and  diet,  and  diversions : and  better  fare 
our  noble  notion,  for  refining  upon  this,  among  other  French  modes. 
I am  living  fast  to  see  the  time  when  a book  that  misses  its  tide  shall 
be  neglected,  as  the  moon  by  day,  or  like  mackerel  a week  after  the 
season.  No  man  hath  more  nicely  observed  our  climate  than  the 
bookseller  who  bought  the  copy  of  this  work;  he  knows  to  a tittle  what 
subjects  will  best  go  off  in  a dry  year,  and  which  it  is  proper  to  expose 
foremost,  when  the  weather-glass  is  fallen  to  much  rain.  When  he 
had  seen  this  treatise,  and  consulted  his  almanack  upon  it,  he  gave 
me  to  understand,  that  he  had  manifestly  considered  the  two  principal 
things,  which  were  the  bulk,  and  the  subject;  and  found  it  would  never 
take  but  after  a long  vacation,  and  then  only  in  case  it  should  happen 
to  be  a hard  year  for  turnips.  Upon  which  I desired  to  know,  con- 
sidering my  urgent  necessities,  what  he  thought  might  be  acceptable 
this  month.  He  looked  westward,  and  said,  “ I doubt  we  shall  have  a 
fit  of  bad  weather  ; however,  if  you  could  prepare  some  pretty  little 

banter  (but  not  in  verse)  or  a small  treatise  upon  the , it  would 

run  like  wild-fire.  But,  if  it  hold  up,  I have  already  hired  an  author 
to  write  something  against  Dr.  B — tl — y,  which,  I am  sure,  will  turn 
to  account.” 

At  length  we  agreed  upon  this  expedient;  that  when  a customer 
comes  for  one  of  these,  and  desires  in  confidence  to  know  the  author, 
he  will  tell  him  very  privately,  as  a friend,  naming  whichever  of  the 
wits  shall  happen  to  be  that  week  in  the  vogue  ; and  if  Durfey’s  last 
play  should  be  in  course,  I had  as  lieve  he  may  be  the  person  as  Con- 
greve. This  I mention,  because  I am  wonderfully  well  acquainted 
with  the  present  relish  of  courteous  readers  ; and  have  often  observed, 
with  singular  pleasure,  that  a fly  driven  from  a honey-pot,  will  im- 
mediately, with  very  good  appetite,  alight  and  finish  his  meal  on  an 
excrement. 

I have  one  word  to  say  upon  the  subject  of  profound  writers,  who  are 
grown  very  numerous  of  late;  and,  I know  very  well,  the  judicious 
world  is  resolved  to  list  me  in  that  number.  I conceive,  therefore,  as 
to  the  business  of  being  profound,  that  it  is  with  writers  as  with  wells; 
a person  with  good  eyes  may  see  to  the  bottom  of  the  deepest,  pro- 
vided any  water  be  there  ; and,  that  often,  when  there  is  nothing  in 
the  world  at  the  bottom,  besides  dryness  and  dirt,  though  it  be  but  a 
yard  and  half  under  ground,  it  shall  pass,  however,  for  wondrous  deep, 
upon  no  wiser  a reason  than  because  it  is  wondrous  dark. 

I am  now  trving  an  experiment  very  frequent  among  modern  authors; 
which  is,  to  write  upon  nothing  ; when  the  subject  is  utterly  exhausted, 
to  let  the  pen  still  move  on ; by  some  called  the  ghost  of  wit,  delight* 


Pere  d’ Orleans. 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


*s* 

ing  to  walk  after  the  death  of  its  body.  And,  to  say  the  truth,  there 
seems  to  be  no  part  of  knowledge  in  fewer  hands,  than  that  of  discern- 
ing when  to  have  done.  By  the  time  that  an  author  has  writ  out  a 
book,  he  and  his  readers  are  become  old  acquaintants,  and  grow  very 
loth  to  part  : so  that  I have  sometimes  known  it  to  be  in  writing,  as  in 
visiting,  where  the  ceremony  of  taking  leave  has  employed  more  time 
than  the  whole  conversation  before.  The  conclusion  of  a treatise  re- 
sembles the  conclusion  of  human  life,  which  hath  sometimes  been  com- 
pared to  the  end  of  a feast;  where  few  are  satisfied  to  depart,  ut  filenus 
vita  conviva  : for  men  will  sit  down  after  the  fullest  meal,  though  it  be 
only  to  doze,  or  to  sleep  out  the  rest  of  the  day.  But,  in  this  latter,  I 
differ  extremely  from  other  writers  ; and  shall  be  too  proud  if  by  all 
my  labours  I can  have  any  ways  contributed  to  the  repose  of  mankind 
in  times  so  turbulent  and  unquiet  as  these.  Neither  do  I think  such 
an  employment  so  very  alien  from  the  office  of  a wit,  as  some  would 
suppose.  For  among  a very  polite  nation  in  Greece,*  there  were  the 
same  temples  built  and  consecrated,  to  Sleep  and  the  Muses,  between 
which  two  deities  they  believed  the  strictest  friendship  was  estab- 
lished. 

I have  one  concluding  favour  to  request  of  my  reader  ; that  he  will 
not  expect  to  be  equally  diverted  and  informed  by  every  line  or  every 
page  of  this  discourse  ; but  give  some  allowance  to  the  authors  spleen 
and  short  fits  or  intervals  of  dulness,  as  well  as  his  own  ; and  lay  it 
seriously  to  his  conscience,  whether,  if  he  were  walking  the  streets  in 
dirty  weather  or  a rainy  day,  he  would  allow  it  fair  dealing  in  folks  at 
their  ease  from  a window  to  critic  his  gait  and  ridicule  his  dress  at 
such  a juncture.  ♦ 

In  my  disposure  of  employments  of  the  brain,  I have  thought  fit  to 
make  invention  the  master,  and  to  give  method  and  reason  the  office 
of  its  lacqueys.  The  cause  of  this  distribution  was  from  observing  it 
my  peculiar  case  to  be  often  under  a temptation  of  being  witty,  upon 
occasion,  where  I could  be  neither  wise  nor  sound,  nor  anything  to  the 
matter  in  hand.  And  I am  too  much  a servant  of  the  modern  way  to 
neglect  any  such  opportunities,  whatever  pains  or  improprieties  I may 
be  at  to  introduce  them.  For  I have  observed  that  from  a laborious 
collection  of  seven  hundred  thirty-eight  flowers  and  shining  hints 
of  the  best  modern  authors,  digested  with  great  reading  into  my  book 
of  common-places,  ! -have  -not '-been  able'Hatier~fmryears  to  draw, 
hook,  or  force  into  common  conversation,  any  more  than  a dozen.  Of 
which  dozen  the  one  moiety  failed  of  success,  by  being  dropped  among 
unsuitable  company ; and  the  other  cost  me  co  many  strains,  and  traps, 
and  ambages  to  introduce,  that  I at  length  resolved  to  give  it  over. 
Now  this  disappointment  (to  discover  a secret)  I must  own  gave  me 
the  first  hint  of  settingup  for  an  author ; and  I have  since  found  among 
some  particular  friends,  that  it  is  become  a very  general  complaint,  and 
has  produced  the  same  effects  upon  many  others.  For  I have  remarked 
many  a towardly  word  to  be  wholly  neglected  or  despised  in  discourse, 
which  hath  passed  very  smoothly,  with  some  consideration  and  esteem, 

* Trsezenii,  Pausan,  L 2. 


A TALE  OF  A TUB. 


2S3 

after  its  preferment  and  sanction  in  print.  But  now,  since  try  xne 
liberty  and  encouragement  of  the  press,  I am  grown  absolute  master 
of  the  occasions  and  opportunities  to  expose  .he  talents  1 have  ac- 
quired, I already  discover  that  the  issues  of  my  observanda  begin  to 
grow  too  large  for  the  receipts.  Therefore,  I shall  here  pause  awhile, 
till  I find,  by  feeling  the  world's  pulse,  and  my  own,  that  it  will  be  of 
absolute  necessity  for  us  both,  to  resume  my  pen. 


>6, 
/ y 


"V 


A FULL  AND  TRUE 


ACCOUNT  OF  THE  BATTLE 


FOUGHT  LAST  FRIDAY  BETWEEN 


THE  ANCIENT  AND  THE  MODERN  BOOKS 


IN  ST.  JAMES’S  LIBRARY. 


THE  BOOKSELLER  TO  THE  READER. 

THE  following  discourse,  as  it  is  unquestionably  of  the  same  author, 
so  it  seems  to  have  been  written  about  the  same  time  with  the 
farmer — I mean  the  year  1697,  when  the  famous  dispute  was  on  foot 
about  ancient  and  modern  learning.  The  controversy  took  its  rise 
from  an  essay  of  Sir  William  Temple’s  upon  that  subject,  which  was 
answered  by  W.  Wotton,  B.D.,  with  an  appendix  by  Dr.  Bentley,  en- 
deavouring to  desffSyTI^ and  PhaTaris,  Tor  authors, 
whom  Sir  William  Temple  had,  in  the  essay  before-mentioned,  highly 
commended.  In  that  appendix  the  Doctor  falls  hard  upon  a new 
edition  of  Phalaris,  put  out  by  the  Honourable  Charles  Boyle  (now  Earl 
of  Orrery),  to  which  Mr.  Boyle  replied  at  large,  witlTgreat  learning  and 
wiCandThe  Doctor  volu mmously  r ejo  1 n e d . In  this  dispute  the  town 
highly  resented  to  see  a person  of  3ir  William  Temple’s  character  and 
merits  roughly  used  by  the  two  reverend  gentlemen  aforesaid,  and  with- 
out any  manner  of  provocation.  At  length,  there  appearing  no  end  of 
the  quarrel,  our  author  tells  us  that  the  books  in  St.  James’s  library, 
looking  upon  themselves  as  parties  principally  concerned,  took  up  the 
controversy,  and  came  to  a decisive  battle  ; but  the  manuscript,  by  the 
injury  of  fortune  or  weather,  being  in  several  places  impertect,  we  can- 
not learn  to  which  side  the  victory  fell. 

I must  warn  the  reader  to  beware  of  applying  to  persons  what  is  here 
meant  only  of  books  in  the  most  literal  sense.  So,  when  Virgil  is  men- 
tioned, we  are  not  to  understand  the  person  of  a famous  poet  called  by 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  BOOKS.  • 

that  name,  but  only  certain  sheets  of  paper,  bound  up  in  leather,  con- 
taining  in  print  the  works  of  the  said  poet ; and  so  of  the  rest. 

THE  PREFACE  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 

SATIRE  is  a sort  of  glass,  wherein  beholders  do  generally  discover 
everybody’s  face  but  their  own  ; which  is  the  chief  reason  for  that 
kind  reception  it  meets  in  the  world,  and  that  so  very  few  are  offended 
with  it.  But  if  it  should  happen  otherwise,  the  danger  is  not  great ; 
and  I have  learned  from  long  experience  never  to  apprehend  mischief 
from  those  understandings  I have  been  able  to  provoke  ; for  anger  and 
fury,  though  they  add  strength  to  the  sinews  of  the  body,  yet  are  found  to 
relax  those  of  the  mind,  and  to  render  all  its  efforts  feeble  and  impotent. 

There  is  a brain  that  will  endure  but  one  scumming  : let  the  owner 
gather  it  with  discretion,  and  manage  his  little  stock  with  husbandry ; 
but  of  all  things  let  him  beware  of  bringing  it  under  the  lash  of  his 
betters,  because  tliat  will  make  it  all  bubble  up  into  impertinence,  and  he 
•will  find  no  new  supply.  Wit  without  knowledge  being  a sort  of  cream, 
which  gather^  in  a night  to  the  top,  and  by  a skilful  hand  may  be  soon 
whipped  into  froth  ; but  once  scummed  away,  what  appears  underneath 
will  be  fit  for  nothing  but  to  be  thrown  to  the  hogs. 

THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  BOOKS. 

WHOEVER  examines  with  due  circumspection  into  the  “Annual 
Records  of  Time/’*  will  find  it  remarked  that  “ War  is  the  child 
of  Pride,”  and  “ Pride  the  daughter  of  Riches  the  former  of  which 
assertions  may  be  soon  granted,  but  one  cannot  so  easily  subscribe  to 
the  latter  ; for  Pride  is  nearly  related  to  Beggary  and  Want,  either  by 
father  or  mother,  and  sometimes  by  both.  And  to  speak  naturally,  it 
very  seldom  happens  among  men  to  fall  out  when  all  have  enough  : in- 
vasions usually  travelling  from  north  to  south,  that  is  to  say,  from  poverty 
upon  plenty.  The  most  ancient  and  natural  grounds  of  quarrels  are 
lust  and  avarice,  which,  though  we  may  allow  to  be  brethren  or  col- 
lateral branches  of  pride,  are  certainly  the  issues  of  want.  For,  to 
speak  in  the  phrase  of  writers  upon  the  politics,  we  may  observe  in  the 
Republic  of  Dogs  (which  in  its  original  seems  to  be  an  institution  of  the 
many),  that  the  whole  state  is  ever  in  the  profoundest  peace  after  a full 
meal ; and  that  civil  broils  arise  among  them  when  it  happens  for  one 
great  bone  to  be  seized  on  by  some  leading  dog,  who  either  divides  it 
among  the  few,  and  then  it  falls  to  an  oligarchy;  or  keeps  it  to  himself 
and  then  it  runs  up  to  a tyranny.  The  same  reasoning  also  holds  place 
among  them  in  those  dissensions  we  behold  upon  a turgescency  in  any 
of  their  females.  For  the  right  of  possession  lying  in  common  (it  being 
impossible  to  establish  a property  in  so  delicate  a case),  jealousies  and 
suspicions  do  so  abound,  that  the  whole  commonwealth  of  that  street 
is  reduced  to  a manifest  state  of  war  of  every  citizen  against  every  citi- 
zen ; till  some  one,  of  more  courage,  conduct,  or  fortune  than  the  rest, 
seizes  and  enjoys  the  prize;  upon  which  naturally  arises  plenty  of  heart- 
burning and  envy  and  snarling  against  the  happy  dog.  Again,  if  we 

* 14 Riches  produceth  pride,”  “ Pride  is  war’s  ground,”  &c. — Vid.  Ephem. 
de  Mary  Clarke ; opt.  Edit. 


DEAN  SWIFT* S WOE  NS. 


256 


look  upon  any  of  these  republics  engaged  in  a foreign  war,  either  of  in# 
vasion  or  defence,  we  shall  find  the  same  reasoning  will  serve  as  to  the 
grounds  and  occasions  of  each,  and  that  poverty  or  want,  in  some  degree 
or  other  (whether  real  or  in  opinion,  which  makes  no  alteration  in  the 
case)  has  a great  share,  as  well  as  pride,  on  the  part  of  the  aggressor. 

Now,  whoever  will  please  to  take  this  scheme,  and  either  reduce  or 
adapt  it  to  an  intellectual  state  or  commonwealth  of  learning,  will  soon 
discover  the  first  ground  of  disagreement  between  the  two  great  parties 
at  this  time  in  arms,  and  may  form  just  conclusions  upon  the  merits  of 
either  cause.  But  the  issue  or  events  of  this  war  are  not  so  easy  to  con- 
jecture at : for  the  present  quarrel  is  so  inflamed  by  the  warm  heads  of 
either  faction,  and  the  pretensions  somewhere  or  other  so  exorbitant,  as 
not  to  admit  the  least  overtures  of  accommodation.  This  quarrel  first 
began  (as  I have  heard  it  affirmed  by  an  old  dweller  in  the  neighbour- 
hood) about  a small  spot  of  ground  lying  and  being  qpon  one  of  the  two 
tops  of  the  hill  Parnassus;  the  highest  and  largest  of  which  had,  it  seems, 
been,  time  out  of  mind,  in  quiet  possession  of  certain  tenants  called  the 
Ancients,  and  the  other  was  held  by  the  Moderns.  Butnhese  disliking 
their  present  station,  sent  certain  ambassadors  to  the  Ancients,  complain- 
ing of  a great  nuisance — how  the  height  of  that  part  of  Parnassus,  quite 
spoiled  the  prospect  of  theirs,  especially  towards  the  east ; and  there- 
fore, to  avoid  a war,  offered  them  the  choice  of  this  alternative — either 
that  the  Ancients  would  please  to  remove  themselves  and  their 
effects  down  to  the  lower  summity,  which  the  Moderns  would  graciously 
surrender  to  them,  and  advance  in  their  place  ; or  else,  that  the  said 
Ancients  will  give  leave  to  the  Moderns  to  come  with  shovels  and  mat- 
tocks, and  level  the  said  hill  as  low  as  they  shall  think  it  convenient. 
To  which  the  Ancients  made  answer,  how  little  they  expected  such  a 
message  as  this  from  a colony  whom  they  had  admitted  out  of  their  own 
free  grace  to  so  near  a neighbourhood.  That  as  to  their  own  seat,  they 
were  aborigines  of  it ; and  therefore,  to  talk  with  them  of  a removal  or 
surrender,  was  a language  they  did  not  understand.  That  if  the  height 
of  the  hill  on  their  side  shortened  the  prospect  of  the  moderns,  it  was  a 
disadvantage  they  could  not  help,  but  desired  them  to  consider  whether 
that  injury  (if  it  be  any)  were  not  largely  recompensed  by  the  shade  and 
shelter  it  afforded  them.  That  as  to  the  levelling  or  digging  down,  it 
was  either  folly  or  ignorance  to  propose  it,  if  they  did,  or  did  not,  know 
how  that  side  of  the  hill  was  an  entire  rock,  which  would  break  their 
tools  and  hearts  without  any  damage  to  itself.  That  they  would  there- 
fore advise  the  Moderns  rather  to  raise  their  own  side  of  the  hill  than 
dream  of  pulling  down  that  of  the  Ancients,  to  the  former  of  which 
they  would  not  only  give  licence,  but  also  largely  contribute.  All 
this  was  rejected  by  the  Moderns  with  much  indignation,  who  still 
insisted  upon  one  of  the  two  expedients.  And  so  this  difference 
broke  out  into  a long  and  obstinate  war,  maintained  on  the  one 
oart  by  resolution,  and  by  the  courage  of  certain  leaders  and 
allies ; but  on  the  other,  by  the  greatness  of  their  number,  upon  all 
defeats  affording  continual  recruits.  In  this  quarrel  whole  rivulets  of 
ink  have  been,  exhausted,  and  the  virulence  of  both  parties  enormously 
augmented  Now  it  must  here  be  understood  that  ink  is  the  great  mis- 
sive weapon  in  all  battle^  of  the  learned,  which,  conveyed  through  a 


t 

t 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  BOO 

sort  of  engine,  called  a quill,  infinite  numbers  of  these 
enemy  by  the  valiant  on  each  side  with  equal  skill  and 
it  were  an  engagementof  porcupines.  This  malignant  liqu 
pounded  by  the  engineer  who  invented  it  of  two  ingredients,  w 
gall  and  copperas,  by  its  bitterness  and  venom  to  suit  in  some 
as  well  as  to  foment,  the  genius  of  the  combatants.  And  as  the  G 
cians,  after  an  engagement,  when  they  could  not  agree  about  the  victor, 
were  wont  to  set  up  trophies  on  both  sides,  the  beaten  party  being  con- 
tent to  be  at  the  same  expense  to  keep  itself  in  countenance  (a  laudable 
and  ancient  custom,  happily  revived  of  late  in  the  art  of  war) ; so  the 
learned,  after  a sharp  and  bloody  dispute,  do  on  both  sides  hang  out 
their  trophies  too,  whichever  comes  by  the  worst.  These  trophies  have 
largely  inscribed  on  them  the  merits  of  the  cause,  a full  impartial  ac- 
count of  such  a battle,  and  how  the  victory  fell  clearly  to  the  party  that 
set  them  up.  They  are  known  to  the  world  under  several  names,  as 
disputes,  arguments,  rejoinders,  brief  considerations,  answers,  replies, 
remarks,  reflections,  objections,  confutations.  For  a very  few  days  they 
are  fixed  up  in  all  public  places,  either  by  themselves  or  their  represent- 
atives,* for  passengers  to  gaze  at ; from  whence  the  chiefest  and  largest 
are  removed  to  certain  magazines  they  call  libraries,  there  to  remain 
in  a quarter  purposely  assigned  them,  &nd  from  thenceforth  begin  to 
be  called  books  of  controversy. 

In  these  books  is  wonderfully  instilled  and  preserved  the  spirit  of 
each  warrior  while  he  is  alive,  and  after  his  death  his  soul  transmigrates 
there  to  inform  them.  This,  at  least,  is  the  more  common  opinion ; 
but,  I believe,  it  is  with  libraries  as  with  other  cemeteries,  where 
some  philosophers  affirm  that  a certain  spirit,  which  they  call  Brutam 
hominis , hovers  over  the  monument  till  the  body  is  corrupted,  and 
turns  to  dust  or  to  worms,  but  then  vanishes  or  dissolves  ; so,  we  may 
say,  a restless  spirit  haunts  over  every  book,  till  dust  or  worms  have 
seized  upon  it,  which  to  some  may  happen  in  a few  days,  but  to  others 
later  ; and  therefore  books  of  controversy,  being  of  all  others  haunted 
by  the  most  disorderly  spirits,  have  always  been  confined  in  a separate 
lodge  from  the  rest,  and  for  fear  of  mutual  violence  against  each  other, 
it  was  thought  prudent  by  our  ancestors  to  bind  them  to  the  peace  with 
strong  iron  chains.  Of  which  invention  the  original  occasion  was  this: 
when  the  works  of  Scotus  first  came  out  they  were  carried  to  a certain 
great  library,  and  had  lodgings  appofhted  them  ; but  this  author  was  no 
sooner  settled  than  he  went  to  visit  his  Master  Aristotle,  and  there 
both  concerted  together  to  seize  Plato  by  main  force,  and  turn  him  out 
from  his  ancient  station  among  the  divines,  where  he  had  peaceably 
dwelt  near  eight  hundred  years.  The  attempt  succeeded,  and  the  two 
usurpers  have  reigned  ever  since  in  his  stead  ; but  to  maintain  quiet 
for  the  future  it  was  decreed  that  all  polemics  of  the  larger  size  should 
be  held  fast  with  a chain. 

By  this  expedient  the  public  peace  of  libraries  might  certainly  have 
been  preserved,  if  a new  species  of  controversial  books  had  not  arose 
of  late  years,  instinct  with  a most  malignant  spirit,  from  the  war  above- 
mentioned  between  the  learned  about  the  higher  summity  of  Parnassus. 

When  these  books  were  first  admitted  into  the  public  libraries,  I 
* Their  title-pages. 


*7 


ve  said  upon  occasion  to  several  persons  concerned, 
re  they  would  create  broils  wherever  they  came,  unless  a 
-are  were  taken,  and  therefore  I advised  that  the  champions 
side  should  be  coupled  together,  or  otherwise  mixed,  that  like 
ending  of  contrary  poisons  .their  malignity  might  be  employed 
,ong  themselves.  And  it  seems  I was  neither  an  ill  prophet  nor  an 
111  counsellor,  for  it  was  nothing  else  but  the  neglect  of  this  caution 
which  gave  occasion  to  the  terrible  fight  that  happened  on  Friday  last 
between  the  ancient  and  modern  books  in  the  King’s  library.  Now, 
because  the  talk  of  this  battle  is  so  fresh  in  everybody’s  mouth,  and 
the  expectation  of  the  town  so  great  to  be  informed  in  the  particulars, 

I,  being  possessed  of  all  qualifications  requisite  in  an  historian  and 
retained  by  neither  party,  have  resolved  to  comply  with  the  urgent  impor- 
tunity of  my  friends  by  writing  down  a full  impartial  account  thereof. 

The  guardian  of  the  regal  library,  a person  of  great  valour,  but  chiefly 
renowned  for  his  humanity,  had  been  a fierce  champion  for  the 
Moderns,  and  in  an  engagement  upon  Parnassus,  had  vowed,  with  his 
own  hands,  to  knock  down  two  offcbe  Ancient  chiefs,  who  guarded  a 
small  pass  on  the  superior  rock  ;Q>ut  endeavouring  to  climb  up,  was 
cruelly  obstructed  by  his  own  unhappy  weight  and  tendency  towards 
his  centre,  a quality  to  which  those  of  the  Modern  party  are  extremely 
subject  ;\for  being  light-headed,  they  have  in  speculation,  a wonderful 
agility,  and  conceive  nothing  too  high  for  them  to  mount,  but  in  re- 
ducing to  practice,  discover  a mighty  pressure  about  their  posteriors 
and  their  heels,  j Having  thus  failed  in  his  design,  the  disappointed 
champion  bore  a cruel  rancour  to  the  Ancients,  which  he  resolved  to 
gratify  by  showing  all  marks  of  his  favour  to  the  Books  of  their  adver- 
saries, and  lodging  them  in  the  fairest  apartments  ; when  at  the  same 
time,  whatever  Book  had  the  boldness  to  own  itself  for  an  advo- 
cate of  the  Ancients,  was  buried  alive  in  some  obscure  corner,  and 
threatened  upon  the  least  displeasure  to  be  turned  out  of  doors.  Be- 
sides, it  so  happened  that  about  this  time  there  was  a strange  confusion 
of  place  among  all  the  books  in  the  library,  for  which  several  reasons 
were  assigned.  Some  imputed  it  to  a great  heap  of  learned  dust 
which  a perverse  wind  blew  off  from  a shelf  of  Moderns  into  the 
keeper’s  eyes.  Others  affirmed  he  had  a humour  to  pick  the  worms  out 
of  the  schoolmen  and  swallow  them  fresh  and  fasting,  whereof  some 
fell  upon  his  spleen  and  some  climbed  up  into  his  head,  to  the  great  I 
perturbation  of  both.  And  lastly,  others  maintained  that  by  walking 
much  in  the  dark  about  the  library,  he  had  quite  lost  the  situation  of 
it  out  of  his  head  ; and  therefore,  in  replacing  his  books,  he  was  apt  to  || 
mistake,  and  clap  Descartes  next  to  Aristotle ; poor  Plato  had  got  be- 
tween Hobbes  and  the  Seven  Wise  Masters,  and  Virgil  was  hemmed 
in  with  Dryden  on  one  side,  and  Withers  on  the  other. 

Meanwhile  those  Books  that  were  advocates  for  the  Moderns  chose 
out  one  from  among  them  to  make  a progress  through  the  whole 
library,  examine  the  number  and  strength  of  their  party,  and  concert 
their  affairs.  This  messenger  performed  all  things  very  industriously, 
and  brought  back  with  him  a list  of  their  forces,  in  all  fifty  thousand, 
consisting  chiefly  of  light  horse,  heavy-armed  loot,  and  mercenaries, 
whereof  the  foot  were  in  general  but  sorrily  armed,  and  worse  clad ; 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  BOOKS. 


259 


their  horses  large,  but  extremely  out  of  case  and  heart  ; however,  some 
few  by  trading  among  the  Ancients,  had  furnished  themselves  toler- 
ably enough. 

While  things  were  in  this  ferment,  discord  grew  extremely  high,  hot 
words  passed  on  both  sides,  and  ill  blood  was  plentifully  bred.  Here 
a solitary  Ancient,  squeezed  up  among  a whole  shelf  of  Moderns, 
offered  fairly  to  dispute  the  case,  and  to  prove  by  manifest  reasons 
that  the  priority  was  due  to  them  from  long  possession,  and  in  regard 
of  their  prudence,  antiquity,  and  above  all,  their  great  merits  towards 
the  Moderns.  But  these  denied  the  premises,  and  seemed  very  much 
to  wonder  how  the  Ancients  could  pretend  to  insist  upon  their  antiquity 
when  it  was  so  plain  (if  they  went  to  that)  that  the  Moderns  were  much 
the  more*  ancient  of  the  two.  As  for  any  obligations  they  owed  to  the 
Ancients,  they  renounced  them  all.  “ 'Tis  true,”  said  they,  “ we  are 
informed,  some  few  of  our  party  have  been  so  mean  to  borrow  their  sub- 
sistence from  you  ; but  the  rest,  infinitely  the  greater  number  (and  espe- 
cially we  French  and  English)  were  so  far  from  stooping  to  so  base  an 
example  that  there  never  passed,  till  this  very  hour,  six  words  between 
us.  For  our  horses  are  of  our  own  breeding,  our  arms  of  our  own 
forging,  and  our  clothes  of  our  own  cutting  out  and  sewing.”  Plato  was  by 
chance  upon  the  next  shelf,  and  observing  those  that  spoke  to  be  in  the 
ragged  plight,  mentioned  awhile  ago  ; their  jades  lean  and  foundered, 
their  weapons  of  rotten  wood,  their  armour  rusty,  and  nothing  but  rags 
underneath;  he  laughed  loud,  and  in  his  pleasant  way,  swore  by 
G — , he  believed  them. 

Now,  the  Moderns  had  not  proceeded  in  their  late  negotiation  with 
secrecy  enough  to  escape  the  notice  of  the  enemy.  For  those  advo- 
cates who  had  begun  the  quarrel  by  setting  first  on  foot  the  dispute  of 
precedency,  talked  so  loud  of  coming  to  a battle  that  Temple  happened 
to  overhear  them,  and  gave  immediate  intelligence  to  the  Ancients,  who 
thereupon  drew  up  their  scattered  troops  together,  resolving  to  act  upon 
the  defensive  ; upon  which  several  of  the  moderns  flew  over  to  their 
party,  and  among  the  rest  Temple  himself.  This  Temple  having  been 
educated,  and  long  conversed  among  the  Ancients,  was  of  all  the 
Moderns  their  greatest  favourite,  and  became  their  greatest  champion. 

Things  were  at  this  crisis  when  a material  accident  fell  out.  For, 
upon  the  highest  corner  of  a large  window,  there  dwelt  a certain  spider 
swollen  up  to  the  first  magnitude  by  the  destruction  of  infinite  numbers 
of  flies,  whose  spoils  lay  scattered  before  the  gates  of  his  palace  like 
human  bones  before  the  cave  of  some  giant.  The  avenues  to  his  castle 
were  guarded  with  turnpikes  and  palissadoes,  all  after  the  modern  way 
of  fortification.  After  you  had  passed  several  courts  you  came  to  the 
centre,  wherein  you  might  behold  the  constable  himself  in  his  own 
lodgings,  which  had  windows  fronting  to  each  avenue,  and  ports  to 
sally  out  upon  all  occasions  of  prey  or  defence.  In  this  mansion  he 
had  for  some  time  dwelt  in  peace  and  plenty,  without  danger  to  his 
person  by  swallows  from  above,  or  to  his  palace  by  brooms  from  below, 
— when  it  was  the  pleasure  of  Fortune  to  conduct  thither  a wandering 
bee,  to  whose  curiosity  a broken  pane  in  the  glass  had  discovered 

* According  to  the  modem  paradox. 

17—2 


200 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


itself ; and  in  he  went,  where  expatiating  awhile,  he  at  last  happened 
to  alight  upon  one  of  the  outward  walls  of  the  spider’s  citadel ; which, 
yielding  to  the  unequal  weight,  sunk  down  to  the  very  foundation. 
Thrice  he  endeavoured  to  force  his  passage,  and  thrice  the  centre 
shook.  The  spider  within  feeling  the  terrible  convulsion,  supposed  at 
first  that  Nature  was  approaching  to  her  final  dissolution,  or  else  that 
Beelzebub,  with  all  his  legions,  was  come  to  revenge  the  death  of  many 
thousands  of  his  subjects,  whom  this  enemy  had  slain  and  devoured. 
However,  he  at  length  valiantly  resolved  to  issue  forth,  and  meet  his 
fate.  Meanwhile,  the  bee  had  acquitted  himself  of  his  toils,  and  posted 
securely  at  some  distance,  was  employed  in  cleansing  his  wings,  and 
disengaging  them  from  the  ragged  remnants  of  the  cobweb.  By  this 
time  the  spider  was  adventured  out,  when,  beholding  the  chasms,  and 
ruins,  and  dilapidations  of  his  fortress,  he  was  very  near  at  his  wit’s 
end ; he  stormed  and  swore  like  a madman,  and  swelled  till  he  was 
ready  to  burst.  At  length,  casting  his  eye  upon  the  bee,  and  wisely 
gathering  causes  from  events  (for  they  knew  each  other  by  sight),  “ A 
plague  split  you,”  said  he,  “ for  a giddy  son  of  a whore.  Is  it  you,  with 
a vengeance,  that  have  made  this  litter  here  ? Could  not  you  look 

before  you,  and  be  d n’d?  Do  you  think  I have  nothing  else  to  do 

(in  the  devil’s  name)  but  to  mend  and  repair  after  your  arse  ?”  “ Good 
words,  friend,”  said  the  bee  (having  now  pruned  himself,  and  being 
disposed  to  droll),  “ I’ll  give  you  my  hand  and  word  to  come  near  your 
kennel  no  more  ; I was  never  in  such  a confounded  pickle  since  I was 
born.”  “ Sirrah,”  replied  the  spider,  “ if  it  were  not  for  breaking  an 
old  custom  in  our  family  never  to  stir  abroad  against  an  enemy,  I should 
come  and  teach  you  better  manners.”  “ I pray  have  patience,”  said 
the  bee,  “ or  you  will  spend  your  substance,  and,  for  aught  I see,  you 
may  stand  in  need  of  it  all,  towards  the  repair  of  your  house.”  “ Rogue, 
rogue,”  replied  the  spider,  “yet,  methinks,  you  should  have  more 
respect  to  a person,  whom  all  the  world  allows  to  be  so  much  your 
better.”  “ By  my  troth,”  said  the  bee,  “ the  comparison  will  amount 
to  a very  good  jest,  and  you  will  do  me  a favour  to  let  me  know  the 
reasons  that  all  the  world  is  pleased  to  use  in  so  hopeful  a dispute.” 
At  this,  the  spider  having  swelled  himself  into  the  size  and  posture  of  a 
disputant,  began  his  argument  in  the  true  spirit  of  controversy,  with  a 
resolution  to  be  heartily  scurrilous  and  angry,  to  urge  on  his  own  rea- 
sons without  the  least  regard  to  the  answers  or  objections  of  his-  oppo« 
site  ; and  fully  predetermined  in  his  mind  against  all  conviction. 

“ Not  to  disparage  myself,”  said  he,  “by  the  comparison  with  such  a 
rascal,  what  art  thou  but  a vagabond  without  house  or  home,  without 
stock  or  inheritance  ? Born  to  no  possession  of  your  own,  but  a pair 
of  wings,  and  a drone-pipe.  Your  livelihood  is  an  universal  plunder 
upon  nature  ; a freebooter  over  fields  and  gardens ; and,  for  the  sake 
of  stealing,  will  rob  a nettle  as  readily  as  a violet.  Whereas  I am  a 
domestic  animal,  furnished  with  a native  stock  within  myself.  This 
large  castle  (to  show  my  improvements  in  the  mathematics)  is  all  built 
with  my  own  hands,  and  the  materials  extracted  altogether  out  of  my 
Own  person. 

“lam  glad,”  answered  the  bee,  “to  hear  you  grant,  at  least,  that  I 
am  come  honestly  by  my  wings  and  my  voice,  for  then,  it  seems,  I am 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  BOOKS. 


262 


obliged  to  Heaven  alone  for  my  flights  and  my  music ; and  Piovidence 
would  never  have  bestowed  on  me  two  such  gifts  without  designing 
them  for  the  noblest  ends.  I visit,  indeed,  all  the  flowers  and  blossoms 
of  the  field  and  the  garden,  but  whatever  I collect  from  thence  enriches 
myself  without  the  least  injury  to  their  beauty,  their  smell,  or  their 
taste.  Now,  for  you  your  skill  in  architecture  and  other  mathema- 
tics, I have  lhtle  to  say  : in  that  building  of  yours  there  might,  for  aught 
I know,  have  been  labour  ?nd  method  enough,  but  by  woful  experience 
for  us  both  'tis  too  plain  ti  c materials  are  nought,  and  I hope  you  will 
henceforth  take  warning,  and  consider  duration  and  matter  as  well  as 
method  and  art.  You  boast,  indeed,  of  being  obliged  to  no  other 
creature,  but  of  drawing  and  spinning  out  all  from  yourself— that  is  to 
say,  if  we  may  judge  of  the  liquor  in  the  vessel  by  what  issues  out,  you 
possess  a good  plentiful  store  of  dirt  and  poison  in  your  breast — and 
though  I would  by  no  means  lessen  or  disparage  your  genuine  stock  of 
either,  yet,  I doubt,  you  are  somewhat  obliged  for  an  increase  of  both 
to  a little  foreign  assistance.  Your  inherent  portion  of  dirt  does  not 
fail  of  acquisitions  by  sweepings  exhaled  from  below  ; and  one  insect 
furnishes  you  with  a share  of  poison  to  destroy  another.  So  that,  in 
short,  the  question  comes  all  to  this  ; Whether  is  the  nobler  being  ol 
the  two,  that  which,  by  a lazy  contemplation  of  four  inches  round,  by 
an  overweening  pride,  which  feeding  and  engendering  on  itself  turns 
all  into  excrement  and  venom,  producing  nothing  at  all  but  flybane 
and  a cobweb,  or  that  which  by  an  universal  range,  with  long  search, 
much  study,  true  judgment,  and  distinction  of  things,  brings  home 
honey  and  wax. 

This  dispute  was  managed  with  such  eagerness,  clamour,  and 
warmth,  that  the  two  parties  of  Books  in  arms  below  stood  silent  awhile, 
waiting  in  suspense  what  would  be  the  issue,  which  was  not  long  unde- 
termined ; for  the  bee  grown  impatient  at  so  much  loss  of  time,  fled 
straight  away  to  a bed  of  roses  without  looking  for  a reply  ; and  left 
the  spider  like  an  orator  collected  in  himself,  and  just  prepared  to  burst 
out. 

It  happened  upon  this  emergency  that  jEsop  broke  silence  first. 
He  had  been  of  late  most  barbarously  treated  by  a strange  effect  of 
the  Regent's  humanity,  who  had  tore  off  his  title-page,  sorely  defaced 
one  half  of  his  leaves,  and  chained  him  fast  among  a shelf  of  Moderns. 
Where,  soon  discovering  how  high  the  quarrel  was  like  to  proceed,  he 
tried  all  his  arts,  and  turned  himself  to  a thousand  forms.  At  length, 
in  the  borrowed  shape  of  an  ass,  the  Regent  mistook  him  for  a Modern, 
by  which  means  he  had  time  and  opportunity  to  escape  to  the  Ancients, 
just  when  the  spider  and  the  bee  were  entering  into  their  contest ; to 
which  he  gave  his  attention  with  a world  of  pleasure,  and  when  it  was 
ended,  swore  in  the  loudest  key  that  in  all  his  life  he  had  never  known 
two  cases  so  parallel  and  adapt  to  each  other  as  that  in  the  window, 
and  this  upon  the  shelves.  “The  disputants/'  said  he,  “ have  admirably 
managed  the  dispute  between  them,  have  taken  in  the  full  strength  of 
all  that  is  to  be  said  on  both  sides,  and  exhausted  the  substance  of 
every  argument  pro  and  con.  It  is  but  to  adjust  the  reasonings  of  both 
to  the  present  quarrel,  then  to  compare  and  apply  the  labours  and  fruits 
of  each  as  the  bee  has  learnedly  deduced  them,  and  we  shall  find  th* 


««a  DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 

conclusion  fall  plain  and  close  upon  the  Moderns  and  us.  For,  pray 
gentlemen,  was  ever  anything  so  modern  as  the  spider  in  his  air,  his 
tin  ns,  and  his  paradoxes  ? He  argues  in  the  behalf  of  you,  his  brethren, 
and  himself,  with  many  boastings  of  his  native  stock,  and  great  genius  ; 
that  he  spins  and  spits  wholly  from  himself,  and  scorns  to  own  any 
obligation  or  assistance  from  without.  Then  he  displays  to  you  his 
great  skill  in  architecture,  and  improvement  in  the  mathematics.  To 
all  this,  the  bee  as  an  advocate,  retained  by  us  the  Ancients,  thinks  fit  to 
answer,  that,  if  one  may  judge  of  the  great  genius  or  inventions  of  the 
Moderns  by  what  they  have  produced,  you  will  hardly  have  countenance 
to  bear  you  out  in  boasting  of  either.  Erect  your  schemes  with  as 
much  method  and  skill  as  you  please,  yet,  if  the  materials  be  nothing 
but  dirt  spun  out  of  your  own  entrails  (the  guts  of  modern  brains)  the 
edifice  will  conclude  at  last  in  a cobweb  ; the  duration  of  which,  like 
that  of  other  spiders'  webs,  may  be  imputed  to  their  being  forgotten,  or 
neglected,  or  hid  in  a corner.  For  anything  else  of  genuine  that  the 
Moderns  may  pretend  to,  I cannot  recollect,  unless  if  be  a large  vein  of 
wrangling  and  satire  much  of  a nature  and  substance  with  the  spider's 
poison  ; which,  however  they  pretend  to  spit  wholly  out  of  themselves, 
is  improved  by  the  same  arts  by  feeding  upon  the  insects  and  vermin 
of  the  age.  As  for  us,  the  Ancients,  we  are  content  with  the  bee  to 
pretend  to  nothing  of  our  own  beyond  our  wings  and  our  voice — that  is 
to  say,  our  flights  and  our  language ; for  the  rest,  whatever  we  have  got, 
has  been  by  infinite  labour  and  search,  and  ranging  through  every 
corner  of  nature.  The  difference  is  that,  instead  of  dirt  and  poison,  we 
have  rather  chose  to  fill  our  hives  with  honey  and  wax,  thus  furnishing 
mankind  with  the  two  noblest  of  things,  which  are  Sweetness  and  Light." 

?Iis  wond^rLuLio-xonceive  the  tumult  arisen  among  the  Books  upon 
the  dose  of  this  long  descanLoLgsop.  Both  parties  took  the  hint,  and 
heightened  their  animosities  so  on  a sudden  that  they  resolved  it  should 
come  to  a battle. . Immediately,  the  two  main  bodies  withdrew  under 
their  several  ensigns  to  the  farther  parts  of  the  library,  and  there 
entered  into  cabals  and  consults  upon  the  present  emergency.  The 
Moderns  were  in  very  warm  debates  upon  the  choice  of  their  leaders, 
and  nothing  less  than  the  fear  impending  from  their  enemies  could  have 
kept  them  from  mutinies  upon  this  occasion.  The  difference  was 
greatest  among  the  horse,  where  every  private  trooper  pretended  to  the 
chief  command,  from  Tasso  and  Milton  to  Dryden  and  Withers.  The 
light-horse  were  commanded  by  Cowley  and  Despreaux.  There  came 
the  bowmen  under  their  valiant  leaders  Descartes,  Gassendi,  and 
Hobbes,  whose  strength  was  such  that  they  could  shoot  their  arrows 
behind  the  atmosphere,  never  to  fall  down  again,  but  turn  like  that  of 
Evander  into  meteors,  or  like  the  cannon-ball  into  stars.  Paracelsus 
brought  a squadron  of  stinkpot-dingers  from  the  snowy  mountains  of 
Rhoetia.  There  came  a vast  body  of  dragoons  of  different  nations 
under  the  leading  of  Harvey,  their  great  Aga,  part  armed  with  scythes, 
the  weapons  of  death  ; part  with  lances  and  long  knives,  all  steeped 
in  pcison ; part,  shot  bullets  ot  a most  malignant  nature,  and  used  white 
Dowaer  which  infallibly  killed  without  report.  There  came  several 
bodies  of  heavy-armed  foot,  all  mercenaries,  under  the  ensigns  of 
Gu.ccardme,  Davila,  Polvdore  Vergil,  Buchanan,  Mariana,  Camden, 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  BOOKS. 


263 

and  others.  The  engineers  were  commanded  by  Regiomontanus  and 
Wilkins.  The  rest  were  a confused  multitude  led  by  Scotus,  Aquinas, 
and  Bellarmine,  of  mighty  bulk  and  stature,  but  without  either  arms, 
courage,  or  discipline.  In  the  last  place  came  infinite  swarms  of 
Calones,  a disorderly  rout  led  by  L’Estrange  ; rogues  and  ragamuffins, 
that  follow  the  camp  for  nothing  but  the  plunder,  all  without  coats  to 
cover  them. 

The  army  of  the  Ancients  was  much  fewer  in  number.  Homer  led 
the  horse,  and  Pindar  the  light  horse  ; Euclid  was  chief  engineer ; 
Plato  and  Aristotle  commanded  the  bowmen  ; Herodotus  and  Livy, 
the  foot ; Hippocrates,  the  dragoons.  The  allies,  led  by  Vossius  and 
Temple,  brought  up  the  rear. 

All  things  violently  tending  to  a decisive  battle,  Fame,  who  much 
frequented,  and  had  a large  apartment  formerly  assigned  her  in  the 
regal  library,  fled  up  straight  to  Jupiter,  to  whom  she  delivered  a 
faithful  account  of  all  that  passed  between  the  two  parties  below.  (For 
among  the  gods  she  always  tells  truth.)  Jove,  in  great  concern,  con- 
vokes a council  in  the  Milk-way.  The  senate  assembled,  he  declares 
the  occasion  of  convening  them  ; a bloody  battle  just  impendent  between 
two  mighty  armies  of  ancient  and  modern  creatures  called  Books, 
wherein  the  celestial  interest  was  but  too  deeply  concerned.  M^mu-s, 
the  patron  of  the  Moderns,  made  an  excellent  speech  in  their  favour, 
which  was  answered  by  Pallas,  the  protectress  of  the  ancients.  The 
assembly  was  divided  in  their  affections,  when  Jupiter  commanded  the 
Book  of  Fate  to  be  laid  before  him.  Immediately  were  brought  by 
Mercury  three  large  volumes  in  folio,  containing  memoirs  of  all  things 
past,  present,  and  to  come.  The  clasps  were  of  silver,  double-gilt ; the 
covers  of  celestial  Turkey-leather,  and  the  paper  such  as  here  on  earth 
might  almost  pass  for  vellum.  Jupiter,  having  silently  read  the  decree, 
would  communicate  the  import  to  none,  but  presently  shut  up  the 
book. 

Without  the  doors  of  this  assembly,  there  attended  a vast  number  of 
light,  nimble  gods,  menial  servants  to  Jupiter  ; these  are  his  minister- 
ing instruments  in  all  affairs  below.  They  travel  in  a caravan  more  or 
less  together,  and  are  fastened  to  each  other  like  a link  of  galley-slaves 
by  a light  chain,  which  passes  from  them  to  Jupiter’s  great  toe.  And 
yet  in  receiving  or  delivering  a message  they  may  never  approach  above 
the  lowest  step  of  his  throne,  where  he  and  they  whisper  to  each  other 
through  a long  hollow  trunk  These  deities  are  called  by  mortal  men 
Accidents  or  Events  ; but  the  gods  call  them  Second  Causes.  Jupiter 
having  delivered  his  message  to  a certain  number  of  these  divinities, 
they  flew  immediately  down  to  the  pinnacle  of  the  regal  library,  and 
consulting  a few  minutes,  entered  unseen,  and  disposed  the  parties 
according  to  their  orders. 

Meanwhile,  Momus,  fearing  the  worst,  and  calling  to  mind  an  ancient 
prophecy,  which  bore  no  very  good  face  to  his  children  the  Moderns, 
bent  his  flight  to  the  region  of  a malignant  deity  called  Criticism.  She 
dwelt  on  the  top  of  a snowy  mountain  in  Nova  Zembla  ; there  Momus 
found  her  extended  in  her  den  upon  the  spoils  of  numberless  volumes 
half  devoured.  *AJLjxer  right_hand  sat  Ignorance,  her  tather  and  hus- 
band, blind  with  age  , at  her  leftTP^epiBr^iot her,  dressing  her  ujr 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


264 

in  the  scraps  of  paper  herself  had  torn.  There  was  Opinion,  her  sister, 
light  of  foot,  hoodwinked,  and  headstrong,  yet  giddy  and  perpetually 
turning.  About  her  played  her  children,  Noisg  and  Impudence,  Dulness, 
and  Vanity,  Positiveness,  Pedantry,  and  Ill-manners.  The  goddess 
herself  had  claws  like  a cat : her  head,  and  ears/and  voice  resembled 
those  of  an  ass  ; her  teeth  fallen  out  before  ; her  eyes  turned  inward, 
as  if  she  looked  only  upon  herself ; her  diet  was  the  overflowing  of  her 
own  gall ; her  spleen  was  so  large  as  to  stand  prominent  like  a dug  of 
the  first  rate,  nor  wanted  excrescencies  in  form  of  teats,  at  which  a 
crew  of  ugly  monsters  were  greedily  sucking  ; and,  what  is  wonderful 
to  conceive,  the  bulk  of  Spleen  increased  faster  than  the  sucking  could 
diminish  it.  " Goddess/’  said  Momus,  ;£  can  you  sit  idlv  here  while 
our  devout  worshippers,  the  Moderns,  are  this  minute  entering  into  a 
cruel  battle,  and  perhaps  now  lying  under  the  swords  of  their  enemies  ? 
Who  then,  hereafter,  will  ever  sacrifice  or  build  altars  to  our  divinities? 
Haste,  therefore,  to  the  British  Isle,  and,  if  possible,  prevent  their 
destruction,  while  I make  factions  among  the  gods  and  gain  them  over 
to  our  party.” 

Momus  having  thus  delivered  himself  stayed  not  for  an  answer,  but 
left  the  goddess  to  her  own  resentments.  Up  she  rose  in  a rage,  and 
as  it  is  the  form  upon  such  occasions,  began  a soliloquy.  “ ’Tis  I,”  said 
she,  “who  give  wisdom  to  infants  and  idiots;  by  me,  children  grow 
wiser  than  their  parents.  By  me  beaux  become  politicians ; and  school- 
boys, judges  of  philosophy.  By  me  sophisters  debate,  and  conclude 
upon  the  depths  of  knowledge  ; and  coffee-house  wits,  instinct  by  me, 
can  correct  an  author’s  style,  and  display  his  minutest  errors  without 
understanding  a syllable  of  his  matter  or  his  language.  By  me  strip- 
plings  spend  their  judgment  as  they  do  their  estate  before  it  comes  into 
their  hands.  *Tis  I who  have  deposed  wit  and  knowledge  from  their 
empire  over  poetry,  and  advanced  myself  in  their  stead.  And  shall  a 

few  upstart  Ancients  dare  to  oppose  me  ? Rut  come, 

parents,  and  ypu,  my  childremdearj  and  thou,  my  beauteous  sister,  let 
us  ascend  my  chariot,  and  haste  to  assist  our  devout  moderns,  who 
are  now  sacrificing  to  us  a hecatomb,  as  I perceive  by  that  grateful 
smell,  which  from  thence  reaches  my  nostrils.” 

The  goddess  and  her  train  having  mounted  the  chariot,  which  was 
drawn  by  tame  geese,  flew  over  infinite  regions,  shedding  her  influence 
in  due  places,  till  at  length,  she  arrived  at  her  bc’oved  island  of 
Britain  ; but  in  hovering  over  its  metropolis,  what  blessings  did  she  not 
let  fall  upon  her  seminaries  of  Gresham  and  Covent-garden  ? And  now 
she  reached  the  fatal  plain  of  St.  James’s  library,  at  what  time  the  two 
armies  were  upon  tfi'e~pomt  to  engage',  Where  entering  with  all  her 
caravan,  unseen,  and  landing  upon  a case  of  shelves,  now  deserted,  but 
once  inhabited  by  a colony  of  virtuosos,  she  stayed  awhile  to  observe 
the  posture  of  both  armies. 

But  here,  the  tender  cares  of  a mother  began  to  fill  her  thoughts,  and 
move  in  her  breast.  For,  at  the  head  of  a troop  of  modern  bowmen,  she 
cast  her  eyes  upon  her  son  W-tt-n  ; to  whom  the  Fates  had  assigned  a 
very  short  thread.  W-tt-n,  a young  hero,  whom  an  unknown  father  of 
mortal  race,  begot  by  stolen  embraces  with  this  goddess.  He  was  the 
darling  of  his  mother;  above  all  her  children,  and  she  resolved  to  go 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  BOOKS. 


265 


and  comfort  him.  But  first,  according  to  the  good  old  custom  of  deities, 
she  cast  about  to  change  her  shape  ; for  fear  the  divinity  of  her  count- 
enance might  dazzle  his  mortal  sight,  and  over-charge  the  rest  of  his 
senses.  She  therefore  gathered  up  her  person  into  an  octavo  compass  : 
her  body  grew  white,  and  arid,  and  split  in  pieces  with  dryness  ; the 
thick  turned  into  pasteboard,  and  the  thin  into  paper,  upon  which  her 
parents  and  children,  artfully  strowed  a black  juice,  or  decoction  of  gall 
and  soot,  in  form  of  letters  : her  head,  and  voice,  and  spleen  kept  their 
primitive  form,  and  that  which  before  was  a cover  of  skin  did  still  con- 
tinue so.  In  which  guise,  she  marched  on  towards  the  Moderns, 
undistinguishable  in  shape  and  dress  from  the  divine  B-ntl-y,  W-tt-n’s 
dearest  friend.  “ Brave  W-tt-n,”  said  the  goddess,  “ why  do  our  troops 
stand  idle  here,  to  spend  their  present  vigour,  and  opportunity  of  the 
day  ? Away,  let  us  haste  to  the  generals,  and  advise  to  give  the  onset 
immediately.”  Having  spoke  thus,  she  took  the  ugliest  of  her  monsters 
full  glutted  from  her  spleen,  and  hung  it  invisibly  into  his  mouth  ; which 
flying  straight  up  into  his  head,  squeezed  out  his  eye-balls,  gave  him  a 
distorted  look,  and  half  overturned  his  brain.  Then  she  privately 
ordered  two  of  her  beloved  children,  Dulness  and  Ill-manners,  closely 
to  attend  his  person  in  all  encounters.  "Having  thus  accoutred  him, 
she  vanished  in  a mist,  and  the  hero  perceived  it  was  the  goddess  his 
mother. 

The  destined  hour  of  fate  being  now  arrived,  the  fight  began,  where- 
of before  I dare  adventure  to  make  a particular  description,  I must, 
after  the  example  of  other  authors,  petition  for  a hundred  tongues,  and 
mouths  and  hands,  and  pens  ; which  would  all  be  too  little  to  perform 
so  immense  a work.  Say,  goddess,  that  presidest  over  history  ; who  it 
was  that  first  advanced  in  the  field  of  battle.  Paracelsus,  at  the  head  of 
his  dragoons,  observing  Galen  in  the  adverse  wing,  darted  his  javelin 
with  a mighty  force,  which  the  brave  Ancient  received  upon  his  shield 
the  point  breaking  in  the  second  fold.*  • . • . 

They  bore  the  wounded  Aga,  on  their  shields  to  his  chariot. t 

Then,  Aristotle  observing  Bacon  advance  with  a furious  mien,  drew 
his  bow  to  the  head,  and  let  fly  his  arrow,  which  missed  the  valiant 
Modern,  and  went  hissing  over  his  head  ; but  Descartes  it  hit : the 
steel  point  quickly  found  a defect  in  his  head-piece  ; it  pierced  the 
leather  and  the  paste-board,  and  went  in  at  his  right  eye.  The  torture 
of  the  pain  whirled  the  valiant  bowman  round,  till  death,  like  a star  of 
superior  influence,  drew  him  into  his  own  vortexj  , 

when  Homer  appeared  at  the  head  of  the  cavalry,  mounted  on  a furious 
horse,  with  difficulty  managed  by  the  rider  himself,  but  which  no  other 
mortal  durst  approach  ; he  rode  among  the  enemy’s  ranks,  and  bore 
down  all  before  him.  Say,  goddess,  whom  he  slew  first,  and  whom  he 
slew  last.  First,  Gondibert,  advanced  against  him,  clad  in  heavy 
armour,  and  mounted  on  a staid  sober  gelding,  not  so  famed  for  his 
speed  as  his  docility  in  kneeling,  whenever  his  rider  would  mount  or 

* Hie  pauca  desunt,  f Desunt  nonnulla*  $ Ingens  hiatus  hie  in 


266 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


alight.  He  had  made  a vow  to  Pallas,  that  he  would  never  leave  the 
field,  till  he  had  spoiled  Homer*  of  his  armour ; madman,  who  had 
never  once  seen  the  wearer,  nor  understood  his  strength.  Him  Homer 
overthrew,  horse  and  man  to  the  ground,  there  to  be  trampled  and 
choked  in  the  dirt.  Then,  with  a long  spear,  he  slew  Denham,  a stout 
modern,  who  from  his  father's  side,  derived  his  lineage  from  Apollo, 
but  his  mother  was  of  mortal  race.  He  fell,  and  bit  the  earth.  The 
celestial  part  Apollo  took,  and  made  it  a star,  but  the  terrestrial 
lay  wallowing  upon  the  ground.  Then  Homer  slew  W-sl-y  with  a kick 
of  his  horse's  heel ; he  took  Perrault  by  mighty  force  out  of  his  saddle, 
then  hurled  him  at  Fontenelle,  with  the  same  blow  dashing  out  both 
their  brains. 

On  the  left  wing  of  the  horse,  Virgil  appeared  in  shining  armour, 
completely  fitted  to  his  body  ; he  was  mounted  on  a dapple-grey  steed, 
♦ the  slowness  of  whose  pace  was  an  effect  of  the  highest  mettle  and 
vigour.  He  cast  his  eye  on  the  adverse  wing,  with  a desire  to  find  an 
object  worthy  of  his  valour,  when  behold,  upon  a sorrel  gelding  of  a 
monstrous  size,  appeared  a foe,  issuing  from  among  the  thickest  of  the 
enemy's  squadrons  ; but  his  speed  was  less  than  his  noise,  for  his 
horse,  old  and  lean,  spent  the  dregs  of  his  strength  in  a high  trot, 
f /■  which  though  it  made  slow  advances,  yet  caused  a loud  clashing  of  his 
armour,  terrible  to  hear.  The  two  cavaliers  had  now  approached 
within  the  throw  of  a lance,  when  the  stranger  desired  a parley,  and 
lifting  up  the  vizard  of  his  helmet,  a face  hlrdly  appeared  from  within, 
which  after  a pause,  was  known  for  that  of  the  renowned  Dryden.  The 
brave  Ancient  suddenly  started,  as  one  possessed  with  surprise  and 
disappointment  together  : for  the  helmet  was  nine  times  too  large  for 
the  head,  which  appeared  situate  far  in  the  hinder  part,  even  like  the 
lady  in  a lobster,  or  like  a mouse  under  a canopy  of  state,  or  like  a 
shrivelled  beau  from  within  the  pent-house  of  a modern  periwig  : and 
the  voice  was  suited  to  the  visage,  sounding  weak  and  remote.  Dryden 
in  a long  harangue  soothed  up  the  good  Ancient,  called  him  father, 
and  by  a large  deduction  of  genealogies,  made  it  plainly  appear  that 
^ they  were  nearly  related.  Then  he  humbly  proposed  an  exchange  of 
' armour,  as  a lasting  mark  of  hospitality  between  them.  Virgil  consented 
(for  the  goddess  Diffidence  came  unseen,  and  cast  a mist  before  his 
eyes)  though  his  was  of  gold,  and  cost  a hundred  beeves,  the  other's  but 
ijof  rusty  iron.*  However,  this  glittering  armour  became  the  modern  yet 
worse  than  his  own.  Then,  they  agreed  to  exchange  horses  ; but  when 
it  came  to  the  trial,  Dryden  was  afraid,  and  utterly  unable  to  mount.t 


Lucan  appeared  on  a fiery  horse,  of  admirable  shape,  but  head* 
strong,  bearing  the  rider  where  he  list,  over  the  held  ; he  made  a 
mighty  slaughter  among  the  enemy's  horse ; which  destruction  to  stop, 
Bl-ckm-re  a famous  modern  (but  one  of  the  mercenaries)  strenuously 
opposed  himself,  and  darted  a javelin,  with  a strong  hand,  which  falling 
short  of  its  mark,  struck  deep  in  the  earth.  Then  Lucan  threw  a 
lance  ; but  ^sculapius  came  unseen  and  turned  off  the  point.  “Brave 
Modern,"  said  Lucan,  “ I perceive  some  god  protects  you,  for  never  did 


• Vid.  Homer. 


f Alter  hiatus  in  MS. 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  BOOKS. 


267 


my  arm  so  deceive  me  before  , but,  what  mortal  can  contend  with  a 
god  ? Therefore,  let  us  fight  no  longer,  but  present  gifts  to  each  other. 
Lucan  then  bestowed  the  modern  a pair  of  spurs,  and  Bl-ckm-re  gave 
Lucan  a bridle.*  ...... 

Creech  ; but,  the  goddess  Dulness  took  a cloud,  formed  into  the  shape 
of  Horace,  armed  and  mounted,  and  placed  it  in  a flying  posture  before 
him.  Glad  was  the  cavalier  to  begin  a combat  with  a flying  foe,  and 
pursued  the  image,  threatening  loud  ; till  at  last  it  led  him  to  the 
peaceful  bower  of  his  father  Ogilby,  by  whom  he  was  disarmed,  and 
assigned  to  his  repose. 

Then  Pindar  slew , and , and  Oldham,  and and 

Afra  the  Amazon  light  of  foot ; never  advancing  in  a direct  line,  but 
wheeling  with  incredible  agility  and  force,  he  made  a terrible  slaughter 
among  the  enemy's  light  horse.  Him  when  Cowley  observed,  his  gen- 
erous heart  burnt  within  him,  and  he  advanced  against  the  fierce 
Ancient,  imitating  his  address,  and  pace,  and  career,  as  well  as  the 
vigour  of  his  horse,  and  his  own  skill  would  allow.  When  the  two 
cavaliers  had  approached  within  the  length  of  three  javelins,  first 
Cowley  threw  a lance,  which  missed  Pindar,  and  passing  into  the 
enemy's  ranks,  fell  ineffectual  to  the  ground.  Then  Pindar  darted  a 
javelin,  so  large  and  weighty,  that  scarce  a dozen  cavaliers,  as  cavaliers 
are  in  our  degenerate  days,  could  raise  it  from  the  ground ; yet  he 
threw  it  with  ease,  and  it  went  by  an  unerring  hand  singing  through  the 
air  ; nor  could  the  Modern  have  avoided  present  death,  if  he  had  not 
luckily  opposed  the  shield  that  had  been  given  him  by  Venus.  And 
now  both  heroes  drew  their  swords,  but  the  Modem  was  so  aghast  and 
disordered,  that  he  knew  not  where  he  was  ; his  shield  dropped  from  his 
hands  ; thrice  he  fled  and  thrice  he  could  not  escape  ; at  last  he  turned, 
and  lifting  up  his  hands  in  the  posture  of  a suppliant,  “God-like  Pindar," 
said  he,  spare  my  life,  and  possess  my  horse  with  tlies^amisrbesMes 
tKeTcCtiTcrm  which  my  friends  will  give,  when  they  hear  I am  alive,  and 
your  prisoner."  “ Dog,”  said  Pindar,  “ let  your  ransom  stay  with  your 
friends;  but  your  carcass  shall  be  left  forthe  fowls  of  the  air,  and  the  beasts 
of  the  field.”  With  that  he  raised  his  sword,  and  with  a mighty  stroke, 
cleft  the  wretched  Modern  in  twain,  the  sword  pursuing  the  blow,  and 
one  half  lay  panting  on  the  ground,  to  be  trod  in  pieces  by  the  horse’s 
feet,  the  other  half  was  borne  by  the  frighted  steed  through  the  field. 
This  Venus  took,  and  washed  it  seven  times  in  ambrosia,  then  struck 
it  thrice  with  a sprig  of  amarant ; upon  which  the  leather  grew  round 
and  soft,  and  the  leaves  turned  into  feathers,  and  being  gilded  before, 
continued  gilded  still ; so  it  became  a dove,  and  she  harnessed  it  to 
her  chariot.+  ...... 

Day  being  far  spent  and  the  numerous  forces  of  the  Moderns  haff 
inclining  to  a retreat,  there  issued  forth  from  a squadron  of  their  heavy 
armed  loot,  a captain,  whose  name  was  B-ntl-y,  in  person  the  most 
deformed  of  all  the  Moderns,  tall,  but  without  shape  or  comelinessj 


Pauca  desunt 


f Hiatus  valde  deflendus  in  MS. 


:6S 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


large,  but  without  strength  or  proportion.  His  armour  was  patched  up 
of  a thousand  incoherent  pieces,  and  the  sound  of  it  as  he  marched 
was  loud  and  dry,  like  that  made  by  the  fall  of  a sheet  of  lead  which 
an  Etesian  wind  blows  suddenly  down  from  the  roof  of  some  steeple. 
His  helmet  was  of  old  rusty  iron,  but  the  vizard  was  brass,  which  tainted 
by  his  breath,  corrupted  into  copperas,  nor  wanted  gall  from  the  same 
fountain  ; so  that,  whenever  provoked  by  anger  or  labour,  an  atramen- 
tous  quality,  of  most  malignant  nature,  was  seen  to  distil  from  his  lips. 
In  his  right  hand  he  grasped  a flail,  and  (that  he  might  never  be  unpro- 
vided of  an  offensive  weapon)  a vessel  full  of  ordure  in  his  left.  Thus, 
completely  armed,  he  advanced  with  a slow  and  heavy  pace  where  the 
Modern  chiefs  were  holding  a consult  upon  the  sum  of  things  ; who, 
as  he  came  onwards,  laughed  to  behold  his  crooked  leg  and  hump 
shoulder,  which  his  boot  and  armour  vainly  endeavouring  to  hide  were 
forced  to  comply  with  and  expose.  The  generals  made  use  of  him  for 
his  talent  of  railing,  which  kept  within  government,  proved  frequently 
of  great  service  to  their  cause,  but  at  other  times  did  more  mischief 
than  good  ; for  at  the  least  touch  of  offence,  and  often  without  any  at 
all,  he  would,  like  a wounded  elephant,  convert  it  against  his  leaders. 
Such,  at  this  juncture,  was  the  disposition  of  B-ntl-y,  grieved  to  see  the 
enemy  prevail,  and  dissatisfied  with  everybody’s  conduct  but  his  own. 
He  humbly  gave  the  Modern  generals  to  understand  that  he  conceived, 
with  great  submission,  they  were  all  a pack  of  rogues,  and  fools,  and 
sons  of  whores,  and  d-mn-d  cowards,  and  confounded  loggerheads, 
and  illiterate  whelps,  and  nonsensical  scoundrels  ; that  if  himself  had 
been  constituted  general,  those  presumptuous  dogs,  the  Ancients,  would 
long  before  this,  have  been  beaten  out  of  the  field.*  “ You,”  said  he, 
“sit  here  idle,  but  when  I,  or  any  other  valiant  Modern,  kill  an  enemy, 
v you  are  sure  to  seize  the  spoil.  But  I will  not  march  one  foot  against 
xthe  foe,  till  you  all  swear  to  me  that,  whomever  I take  or  kill,  his  arms  I 
shall  quietly  possess.”  B-ntl-y  having  spoke  thus,  Scaliger,  bestowing 
him  a sour  look,  “ Miscreant  prater,”  said  he,  “ eloquent  only  in  thine 
own  eyes,  thou  railest  without  wit,  or  truth,  or  discretion.  The  malig- 
^ nitv  of  thy  temper  perverteth  nature,  thy  learning  makes  thee  more 
barbarous,  thy  study  of  humanity  more  inhuman,  thy  converse  amongst 
poets  more  grovelling,  miry,  and  dull.  All  arts  of  civilising  others 
render  thee  rude  and  untractable,  courts  have  taught  thee  ill  manners, 
and  polite  conversation  has  finished  thee  a pedant.  Besides,  a greater 
coward  burdeneth  not  the  army.  But  never  despond,  I pass  my  word, 
whatever  spoil  thou  takest  shall  certainly  be  thy  own,  though  I hope 
that  vile  carcass  will  first  become  a prey  to  kites  and  worms.” 

B-ntl-y  durst  not  reply,  but  half-choked  with  spleen  and  rage,  with- 
drew, in  full  resolution  of  performing  some  great  achievement.  With 
him,  for  his  aid  and  companion,  hfe.tnokiiis  beloved  W-tt-n,  resolving 
by  policy  or  surprise  to  attempt  some  neglectecTquarter  of  the  Ancients’ 
army.  They  began  their  march  over  carcasses  of  their  slaughtered 
friends,  then  to  the  right  of  their  own  forces,  then  wheeled  northward 
till  they  came  to  Aldrovandus’s  tomb,  which  they  passed  on  the  side  of 
the  declining  sun.  And  now  they  arrived  with  fear  towards  the  enemy’s 


5 


Vide  Homer,  de  Thcrsite. 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  BOOKS. 


269 


out-guards,  looking  about,  if  haply  they  might  spy  the  quarters  of 
the  wounded,  or  some  straggling  sleepers  unarmed  and  remote  from 
the  rest.  As  when  two  mongrel  curs,  whom  native  greediness  and 
domestic  want  provoke  and  join  in  partnership,  though  fearful,  nightly 
to  invade  the  folds  of  some  rich  grazier,  they  with  tails  depressed  and 
lolling  tongues  creep  soft  and  slow  ; meanwhile  the  conscious  moon, 
now  in  her  zenith,  on  their  guilty  heads  darts  perpendicular  rays  ; nor 
dare  they  bark,  though  much  provoked  at  her  refulgent  visage,  whether 
seen  in  puddle  by  reflection,  or  in  sphere  direct  ; but  one  surveys  the 
region  round,  while  the  t’other  scouts  the  plain,  if  haply  to  discover  at 
distance  from  the  flock  some  carcass  half  devoured,  the  refuse  of  gorged 
wolves,  or  ominous  ravens.  So  marched  this  lovely,  loving  pair  of 
friends,  nor  with  less  fear  and  circumspection  ; when,  at  distance,  they 
might  perceive  two  shining  suits  of  armour  hanging  upon  an  oak,  and 
the  owners  not  far  off  in  a profound  sleep.  The  two  friends  drew  lots, 
and  the  pursuing  of  this  adventure  fell  to  B-ntl-y.  On  he  went,  and 
in  his  van  Confusion  and  Amaze,  while  Horror  and  Affright  brought  up 
the  rear.  ^sJiexana^Tt^ar,  behold  two  heroes  of  the  Ancients’  army, 

Ph  a laris  and  yFsop^  lay  fast  asleep:  B-ntl-y  would  fain  have  despatched 
them  both,  and  stealing  close  aimed  his  flail  at  Phalaris’s  breast.  But 
then,  the  goddess  Affright  interposing,  caught  the  Modern  in  her  icy 
arms  and  dragged  him  from  the  danger  she  foresaw  ; for  both  the  dor- 
mant heroes  happened  to  turn  at  the  same  instant,  though  soundly 
sleeping  and  busy  in  a dream  ; for  Phalaris  was  just  that  minute  dream- 
ing how  a most  vile  poetaster  had  lampooned  him,  and  how  he  had  got 
him  roaring  in  his  Bull.  And  ^Fsop  dreamed  that,  as  he  and  the 
Ancient  chiefs  were  lying  on  the  ground,  a wild  ass  broke  loose,  ran 
about  trampling,  and  kicking,  and  dunging  in  their  faces,  B-ntl-y  leaving 
the  two  heroes  asleep,  seized  on  both  their  armours,  and  withdrew  in 
quest  of  his  darling  W-tt-n. 

He,  in  the  mean  time,  had  wandered  long  in  search  of  some  enter-  //)*// 
prise,  till  at  length  he  arrii^H  af-  ^ riv/nlpt  that  issued  from  a ^ 

fountain  hard  by,  called  in  the  language  of  mortal  men,  Helicon. 

Here  he  stopped  and,  parched  with  thirst,  resolved  to  allay  it  in  this 
limpid  stream.  Thrice,  with  profane  hands,  he  essayed  to  raise  the 
water  to  his  lips,  and  thrice  it  slipped  all  through  his  fingers.  Then 
he  stooped  prone  on  his  breast,  but  ere  his  mouth  had  kissed  the 
liquid  crystal,  Apollo  came,  and  in  the  channel  held  his  shield  betwixt 
the  Modern  and  the  fountain  so  that  he  drew  up  nothing  but  mud. 

For  although  no  fountain  on  earth  can  compare  with  the  clearness  of 
Helicon,  yet  there  lies  at  bottom  a thick  sediment  of  slime  and  mud  ; 
for  so  Apollo  begged  of  Jupiter,  as  a punishment  to  those  who  durst 
attempt  to  taste  it  with  unhallowed  lips,  and  for  a lesson  to  all,  not  to 
draw  too  deep,  or  far  from  the  spring. 

At  the  fountain  head  W-tt-n  discerned  two  heroes  ; the  one  he  could 
not  distinguish,  but  the  other  was  soon  known  for  Temple,  general  of 
the  allies  to  the  Ancients.  His  back  was  turned,  and  he  was  employed 
in  drinking  large  draughts  in  his  helmet  from  the  fountain  where  he 
had  withdrawn  himself  to  rest  from  the  toils  of  the  war.  W-tt-n,  ob- 
serving him,  with  quaking  knees  and  trembling  hands,  spoke  thus  to 
himself ; “ Oh,  that  I could  kill  this  destroyer  of  our  army,  what  renffwn 


27® 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS . 


should  I purchase  among  the  chiefs ! But  to  issue  out  against  him,  man 
for  man,  shield,  againsl^hielcLand  lance  against  lance,  what  Modern  of 
us  dare  ?*  For  he  fights  like  a god,  and  Pallas  or  Apollo  are  ever  at  his 
elbow.  But  oh,  mother,  if  what  fame  ^orts  be  true,  that  I am  the  son 
of  so  great  a goddess,  grant  me  to  hit  Temple  with  this  lance,  that  the 
stroke  may  send  him  to  hell,  and  that  I may  return  in  safety  and  triumph 
laden  with  his  spoils.”  The  first  part  of  his  prayer  the  gods  granted  at 
the  intercession  of  his  mother  and  of  Momus,  but  the  rest,  by  a perverse 
wind  sent  from  Fate,  was  scattered  in  the  air.  Then  W-tt-n  grasped  his 
lance,  and  brandishing  it  thrice  over  his  head,  darted  it  with  all 
his  might,  the  goddess,  his  mother,  at  the  same  time  adding  strength 
to  his  aim.  Away  the  lance  went  hissing,  and  reached  even  to  the 
belt  of  the  averted  Ancient,  upon  which  lightly  grazing  it  fell  to  the 
ground.  Xemple  neither  felt  the  weapon  touch  him  nor  heard  it  fall 
and  W-tt-n  might  have  escaped  to  his  army  with  the  honour  of  having 
remitted  his  lance  against  so  great  a leader  unrevenged  ; but  Apollo, 
enraged  that  a javelin,  flung  by  the  assistance  of  so  foul  a goddess, 

should  pollute  his  fountain,  put  on  the  shape  of , and  softly  came 

to  young  Boyle,  who  then  accompanied  Temple.  He  pointed  first  to 
the  lance,  then  to  the  distant  Modern  that  flung  it,  and  commanded  the 
young  hero  to  take  immediate  revenge.  Boyle,  clad  in  a suit  of  armour 
which  had  been  given  him  by  all  the  gods,  immediately  advanced 
against  the  trembling  foe,  who  now  fled  before  him.  As  a young  lion 
in  the  Libyan  plains  or  Araby  Desart,  sent  by  his  aged  sire  to  hunt 
for  prey,  or  health,  or  exercise,  he  scours  along,  wishing  to  meet  some 
tiger  from  the  mountains,  or  a furious  boar  : if,  chance,  a wild  ass, 
with  brayings  importune  affronts  his  ear,  the  generous  beast,  though 
loathing  to  distain  his  claws  with  blood  so  vile,  yet  much  provoked  at 
the  offensive  noise,  which  Echo,  foolish  nymph,  like  her  ill-judging  sex, 
repeats  much  louder  and  with  more  delight  than  Philomela’s  song  , he 
vindicates  the  honour  of  the  forest  and  hunts  the  noisy,  long-eared 
animal.  S©-A^tl^,flexlt^jCLBo-yle 'pursued.-  But  W-tt-n,  heavy-armed 
and  slow  of  foot,  began  to  slack  his  course,  when  his  lover,  B-ntl-y, 
appeared,  returning  laden  with  the  spoils  of  the  two  sleeping  ancients. 
Boyle  observed  him  well,  and  soon  discovering  the  helmet  and  shield  of 
Phalaris,  his  friend,  both  which  he  had  lately  with  his  own  hands  new 
polished  and  gilded,  rage  sparkled  in  his  eyes,  and  leaving  his  pursuit 
after  W-tt-n,  he  furiously  rushed  on  against  this  new  approaches  Fain 
would  he  be  revenged  on  both,  but  both  now  fled  different  ways,t  and 
as  a woman  in  a little  house,  that  gets  a painful  livelihood  by  spinning, 
if  chance  her  geese  be  scattered  over  v^e  common,  sne  course  ~ound 
the  plain  from  ^de  to  side,  compelling  here  and  there  the  stragglers  to 
the  nocK  ; they  cackle  loud  and  flutter  o’er  the  cham pain.  So  Boyle 
pursued,  so  fled  this  pair  of  friends,  finding  at  length  their  flight  was 
vain,  they  bravely  joined  and  drew  themselves  in  phalanx.  First, 
B-ntl-y  threw  a spear  with  all  his  force,  hoping  to  pierce  the  enemy’s 
breast  ; but  Pallas  came  unseen  and  in  the  air  took  off  the  point  and 
clapped  on  one  of  lead,  which  after  a dead  bang  against  the  enemy’s 
shield,  fell  blunted  to  the  ground*  Then  Boyle,  observing  well  his  time, 


* Vide  Homer. 


f Vide  Homer, 


THE  BATTLE  Of  THE  BOOHS. 


*1  \ 


took  a lance  of  wondrous  length  and  sharpness,  and  as  this  pair  of 


friends  compacted  stood  close  side  to  side,  he  wheeled  him  to  the  right 
and  with  unusual  force  darted  the  weapon.  B-ntl-y  saw  his  fate  ap- 
proach, and  flanking  down  his  arms  close  to  his  ribs,  hoping  to  save  his 
body,  in  went  the  point,  passing  through  arm  and  side,  nor  stopped  or 
spent  its  force  till  it  had  also  pierced  the  valiant  W-tt-n,  who  going  to 
sustain  his  dying  friend,  shared  his  fate.  As  when  a skilful  cook  has 
trussed  a brace  of  woodcocks,  he,  with  iron  skewer,  presses  the  tender 


sides  of  both,  their  legs  and  wings  close  pinioned  to  their  ribs,  so  was 
this  pair  of  friends  transfixed,  till  -down  they  fell,  joined  in  their  lives.. 
p4ned-in--their-deaths,.so  closely  joined  that  Charon  will  mistake  them 
both  for  one,  and  waft  them  over  Styx  for  half  his  fare.  Farewell, 
beloved,  loving  pair  ; few  equals  have  you  left  behind,  and  happy  and 
immortal  shall  you  be,  if  all  my  wit  and  eloquence  can  make  you. 

Ada  • o * * 


A DISCOURSE 


CONCERNING  THE 

MECHANICAL  OPERATION  of  the  SPIRIT 

IN  A LETTER  TO  A FRIEND. 

A FRAGMENT. 

THE  BOOKSELLER'S  ADVERTISEMENT. 

THE  following  discourse  came  into  my  hands  perfect  and  entire. 

But  there  being  several  things  in  it  which  the  present  age  would 
not  very  well  hear,  I kept  it  by  me  some  years,  resolving  it  should  never 
see  the  light.  At  length,  by  the  advice  and  assistance  of  a judicious 
friend,  I retrenched  those  parts  that  might  give  most  offence,  and  have 
now  ventured  to  publish  the  remainder.  Concerning  the  author,  I ani 
wholly  ignorant  ; neither  can  I conjecture  whether  it  be  the  same  with 
that  of  the  two  foregoing  pieces,  the  original  having  been  sent  me  at  a 
different  time  and  in  a different  hand.  The  learned  reader  will  better 
determine;  to  whose  judgment  I entirely  submit  it. 


A FRAGMENT 

For  T.  H.  Esquire,  at  his  chambers  in  the  Academy  of  the  Beaux 
Esprits  in  New  Holland. 

Sir,— 

IT  is  now  a good  while  since  I have  had  in  my  head  something  not  only 
very  material,  but  absolutely  necessary  to  my  health  that  the  world 
should  be  informed  in.  For,  to  tell  you  a secret,  I am  able  to  contain 
it  no  longer.  However,  I have  been  perplexed  for  some  time  to  resolve 
what  would  be  the  most  proper  form  to  send  it  abroad  in.  To  which 
end  I have  three  days  been  coursing  through  Westminster  Hall,  and 
St.  Paul’s  Churchyard,  and  Fleet-street,  to  peruse  titles  ; and  I do  not 
find  any  which  holds  so  general  a vogue  as  that  of  “ A Letter  to  a 
Friend.”  Nothing  is  more  common  than  to  meet  with  long  epistles 


A FRAGMENT. 


*73 


addressed  to  persons  and  places,  where,  at  first  thinking,  one  would  be 
apt  to  imagine  it  not  altogether  so  necessary  or  convenient  ; such  as 
“ A neighbour  at  next  door,”  “ A mortal  enemy,”  “ A perfect  stranger/' 
or  “ A person  of  quality  in  the  clouds;”  and  these  upon  subjects  in  ap- 
pearance the  least  proper  for  conveyance  by  the  post ; as,  long  schemes 
in  philosophy  ; dark  and  wonderful  mysteries  of  state ; laborious 
dissertations  in  criticism  and  philosophy,  advice  to  parliaments,  and 
the  like. 

Now,  sir,  to  proceed  after  the  method  in  present  wear.  (For  let  me 
say  what  I will  to  the  contrary,  I am  afraid  you  will  publish  this  letter 
as  soon  as  ever  it  comes  to  your  hands.)  I desire  you  will  be  my 
witness  to  the  world  how  careless  and  sudden  a scribble  it  has  been. 
That  it  was  but  yesterday  when  you  and  I began  accidentally  to  fall 
into  discourse  on  this  matter ; that  I was  not  very  well  when  we 
parted ; that  the  post  is  in  such  haste  I have  had  no  manner  of  time 
to  digest  it  into  order,  or  correct  the  style  ; and  if  any  other  modern 
excuses  for  haste  and  negligence  shall  occur  to  you  in  reading,  I beg 
you  to  insert  them,  faithfully  promising  they  shall  be  thankfully 
acknowledged. 

Pray,  sir,  in  your  next  letter  to  the  Iroquois  Virtuosi \ do  me  the  favour 
to  present  my  humble  service  to  that  illustrious  body,  and  assure  them 
I shall  send  an  account  of  those  phenomena,  as  soon  as  we  can  deter- 
mine them  at  Gresham. 

I have  not  had  a line  from  the  Literati  of  Tobinambou  these  three 
last  ordinaries. 

And  now,  sir,  having  despatched  what  I had  to  say  of  forms  or  of 
business,  let  me  entreat  you  will  suffer  me  to  proceed  upon  my  subject, 
and  to  pardon  me  if  l make  no  further  use  of  the  epistolary  style,  till  I 
come  to  conclude. 


IS  recorded  of  Mahomet  that  upon  a visit  he  was  going  to  pay  in 


Paradise,  he  had  an  offer  of  several  vehicles  to  conduct  him  up- 
wards ; as  fiery  chariots,  winged  horses,  and  celestial  sedans  ; but  he 
refused  them  all,  and  would  be  borne  to  heaven  upon  nothing  but  his 
ass.  Now  this  inclination  of  Mahomet,  as  singular  as  it  seems,  hath 
been  since  taken  up  by  a great  number  of  devout  Christians,  and  doubt- 
less with  very  good  reason.  For  since  that  Arabian  is  known  to  have 
borrowed  a moiety  of  his  religious  system  from  the  Christian  faith  ; it 
is  but  just  he  should  pay  reprisals  to  such  as  would  challenge  them  ; 
wherein  the  good  people  of  England,  to  do  them  all  right,  have  not 
been  backward.  F or,  though  there  is  not  any  other  nation  in  the  world 
so  plentifully  provided  with  carriages  for  that  journey,  either  as  to  salety 
or  ease  ; yet  there  are  abundance  of  us  who  will  not  be  satisfied  with 
any  other  machine  beside  this  of  Mahomet. 

For  my  own  part  I must  confess  to  bear  a very  singular  respect  to 
this  animal,  by  whom  I take  human  nature  to  be  most  admirably  held 
forth  in  all  its  qualities  as  well  as  operations.  And  therefore,  whatever 
in  my  small  reading  occurs,  concerning  this  our  fellow-creature,  I do 


SECTION  I. 


274 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS \ 


never  fail  to  set  it  down,  by  way  of  common-place  ; and  when  I hav« 
occasion  to  write  upon  human  reason,  politics,  eloquence  or  knowledge  ; 
I lay  my  memorandums  before  me,  and  insert  them  with  a wonderful 
facility  of  application.  However,  among  all  the  qualifications  ascribed 
to  this  distinguished  brute  by  ancient  or  modern  authors,  I cannot 
remember  this  talent,  of  bearing  his  rider  to  heaven,  has  been  recorded 
for  a part  of  his  character,  except  in  the  two  examples  mentioned 
already  ; therefore  I conceive  the  methods  of  this  art  to  be  a point  ot 
useful  knowledge  in  very  few  hands,  and  which  the  learned  world 
would  gladly  be  better  informed  in.  This  is  what  I have  undertaken  to 
perform  in  the  following  discourse.  For  towards  the  operation  already 
mentioned  many  peculiar  properties  are  required  both  in  the  rider 
and  the  ass  ; which  I shall  endeavour  to  set  in  as  clear  a light  as  I 
can. 

But  because  I am  resolved  by  all  means  to  avoid  giving  offence  to 
any  party  whatever,  I will  leave  off  discoursing  so  closely  to  the  letter 
as  I have  hitherto  done,  and  go  on  for  the  future  by  way  of  allegory, 
though  in  such  a manner  that  the  judicious  reader  may,  without  much 
straining,  make  his  applications  as  often  as  he  shall  think  fit.  There- 
fore, if  you  please,  from  henceforward  instead  of  the  term  “ ass,”  we  shall 
make  use  of  “ gifted”  or  “ enlightened  teacher  and  the  word  “ rider”  we 
will  exchange  for  that  of  “ fanatic  auditory,”  or  any  other  denomination 
of  the  like  import.  Having  settled  this  weighty  point,  the  great  subject 
of  inquiry  before  us  is  to  examine  by  what  methods  this  teacher  arrives 
at  his  gifts  or  spirit,  or  light ; and  by  what  intercourse  between  him  and 
his  assembly  it  is  cultivated  and  supported. 

In  all  my  writings  I have  had  constant  regard  to  this  great  end,  not 
to  suit  and  apply  them  to  particular  occasions  ^nd  circumstances  of 
time,  of  place,  or  of  person  ; but  to  calculate  them  for  universal  nature 
and  mankind  in  general.  And  of  such  Catholic  use  I esteem  this 
present  disquisition  ; for  I do  not  remember  any  other  temper  of  body 
or  quality  of  mind  wherein  all  nations  and  ages  of  the  world  have  so 
unanimously  agreed,  as  that  of  a fanatic  strain  or  tincture  of  enthu- 
siasm ; which  improved  by  certain  persons  or  societies  of  men,  and  by 
them  practised  upon  the  rest,  has  been  able  to  produce  revolutions  of 
the  greatest  figure  in  History  ; as  will  soon  appear  to  those  who  know 
anything  of  Arabia,  Persia,  India,  or  China,  of  Morocco  and  Peru. 
Further,  it  has  possessed  as  great  a power  in  the  kingdom  of  knowledge, 
where  it  is  hard  to  assign  one  art  or  science  which  has  not  annexed  to 
it  some  fanatic  branch.  Such  are  the  Philosopher’s  Stone  ; * The 
Grand  Elixir ; The  Planetary  Worlds  ; The  Squaring  of  the  Circle  ; 
The  Summum  Bonum  ; Utopian  Commonwealths  ; with  some  others 
of  less  or  subordinate  note,  which  all  serve  for  nothing  else  but 
to  employ  or  amuse  this  grain  of  enthusiasm,  dealt  into  every  composi- 
tion. 

But  if  this  plant  has  found  a root  in  the  fields  of  empire  and  of  know- 
ledge, it  has  fixed  deeper,  and  spread  yet  farther  upon  holy  ground. 
Wherein,  though  it  hath  passed  under  the  general  name  of  enthusiasm, 
and  perhaps  arisen  from  the  same  original,  yet  hath  it  produced  cer- 
tain branches  of  a very  different  nature,  however  often  mistaken  for 
* Some  writers  hold  them  for  the  same,  others  not. 


A FRAGMENT. 


*75 


each  other.  The  word  in  its  universal  acceptation,  may  be  defined,  a 
lifting  up  of  the  soul  or  its  faculties  above  matter.  This  description 
will  hold  good  in  general  ; but  l am  only  to  understand  it  as  applied  to 
religion,  wherein  there  are  three  general  ways  of  ejaculating  the  soul  or 
transporting  it  beyond  the  sphere  of  matter.  The  first  is  th-e  immediate 
act  of  God,  and  is  called  prophecy  or  inspiration.  The  second  is  the 
immediate  act  of  the  devil,  and  is  termed  possession.  The  third  is  the 
product  of  natural  causes,  the  effect  of  strong  imagination,  spleen,  vio- 
lent anger,  fear,  grief,  pain,  and  the  like.  These  three  have  been 
abundantly  treated  on  by  authors,  and  therefore  shall  not  employ  my 
inquiry.  But  the  fourth  method  of  religious  enthusiasm,  or  launching 
out  of  the  soul,  as  it  is  purely  an  effect  of  artifice  and  mechanic  opera- 
tion, has  been  sparingly  handled,  or  not  at  all,  by  any  writer  ; because 
though  it  is  an  art  of  great  antiquity,  yet  having  been  confined  to  few 
persons,  it  long  wanted  these  advancements  and  refinements,  which  i: 
afterwards  met  with  since  it  has  grown  so  epidemic,  and  fallen  into  so 
many  cultivating  hands. 

It  is,  therefore,  upon  this  mechanical  operation  of  the  spirit  that  I 
mean  to  treat,  as  it  is  at  present  performed  by  our  British  workmen.  I 
shall  deliver  to  the  reader  the  result  of  many  judicious  observations 
upon  the  matter  ; tracing  as  near  as  I can  the  whole  course  and  method 
of  this  trade,  producing  parallel  instances,  and  relating  certain  dis- 
coveries that  have  luckily  fallen  in  my  way. 

I have  said  that  there  is  one  branch  of  religious  enthusiasm  which  is 
purely  an  effect  of  nature  ; whereas,  the  part  I maan  to  handle  is  wholly 
an  effect  of  art,  which,  however,  is  inclined  to  work  upon  certain 
natures  and  constitutions  more  than  others.  Besides,  there  is  many 
an  operation,  which  in  its  original  was  purely  an  artifice,  but  through  a 
long  succession  of  ages  hath  grown  to  be  natural.  Hippocrates  tells 
us  that  among  our  ancestors,  the  Scythians,  there  was  a nation  called 
Longheads,*  which  at  first  began  by  a custom  among  midwives  and 
nurses  of  moulding,  and  squeezing,  and  bracing  up  the  heads  of  infants, 
by  which  means  Nature  shut  out  at  one  passage  was  forced  to  seek 
another,  and  finding  room  above,  shot  upwards  in  the  form  of  a sugar- 
loaf  ; and  being  diverted  that  way  for  some  generations,  at  last  found 
it  out  of  herself,  needing  no  assistance  from  the  nurse’s  hand.  This 
was  the  original  of  the  Scythian  Longheads,  and  thus  did  custom,  from 
being  a second  nature,  proceed  to  be  a first.  To  all  which  there  is 
something  very  analogous  among  us  of  this  nation,  who  are  the  un- 
doubted posterity  of  that  refined  people.  For,  in  the  age  of  our  fathers 
there  arose  a generation  of  men  in  this  island  called  Roundheads,  whose 
race  is  now  spread  over  three  kingdoms,  yet  in  its  beginning  was  merely 
an  operation  of  art,  produced  by  a pair  of  scissors,  a squeeze  of  the  face, 
and  a black  cap.  These  heads,  thus  formed  into  a perfect  sphere  in 
all  assemblies,  were  most  exposed  to  the  view  of  the  female  sort,  which 
did  influence  their  conceptions  so  effectually  that  Nature  at  last  took  the 
hint  and  did  it  of  herself ; so  that  a Roundhead  has  been  ever  since  as 
familiar  a sight  among  us,  as  a Longhead  among  the  Scythians. 

Upon  these  examples,  and  others  easy  to  produce,  I desire  the  curious 
reader  to  distinguish,  first,  between  an  etfect  grown  from  Art  into  Nature^ 
* Macrocephaii 


1 8 — 2 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


*76 

and  one  that  is  natural  from  its  beginning ; secondly,  between  an  effect 
wholly  natural  and  one  which  has  only  a natural  foundation,  but  where 
the  superstructure  is  entirely  artificial.  For  the  first  and  the  last  of  these 
I understand  to  come  within  the  districts  of  my  subject  And  having 
obtained  these  allowances,  they  will  serve  to  remove  any  objections 
that  may  be  raised  hereafter  against  what  I shall  advance. 

The  practitioners  of  this  famous  art  proceed  in  general  upon  the  fol- 
lowing fundamental  : That  the  corruption  of  the  senses  is  the  genera- 
tion of  the  spirit,  because  the  senses  in  men  are  so  many  avenues  to  the 
fort  of  reason,  which  in  this  operation  is  wholly  blocked  up.  All 
endeavours  must  be  therefore  used  either  to  divert,  bind  up,  stupefy, 
fluster,  and  amuse  the  senses,  or  else  to  jostle  them  out  of  their  sta- 
tions ; and  while  they  are  either  absent,  or  otherwise  employed  or  en- 
gaged in  a civil  war  against  each  other,  the  spirit  enters  and  performs 
its  part 

Now  the  usual  methods  of  managing  the  senses  upon  such  conjunc- 
tures are  what  I shall  be  very  particular  in  delivering,  as  far  as  it  is 
lawful  for  me  to  do  ; but  having  had  the  honour  to  be  initiated  into  the 
mysteries  of  every  society,  I desire  to  be  excused  from  divulging  any 
rites  wherein  the  profane  must  have  no  part. 

But  here,  before  I can  proceed  farther,  a very  dangerous  objection 
must,  if  possible,  be  removed  ; for  it  is  positively  denied  by  certain 
critics  that  the  spirit  can  by  any  means  be  introduced  into  an  assembly 
of  modern  saints,  the  disparity  being  so  great  in  many  material  circum- 
stances between  the  primitive  way  of  inspiration  and  that  which  is  prac- 
tised in  the  present  age.  This  they  pretend  to  prove  from  the  second 
chapter  of  the  Acts,  where,  comparing  both,  it  appears,  first,  that  “ the 
Apostles  were  gathered  together  with  one  accord  in  one  place  by 
which  is  meant  an  universal  agreement  in  opinion  and  form  of  worship 
— a harmony  (say  they)  so  far  from  being  found  between  any  two  con- 
venticles among  us,  that  it  is  in  vain  to  expect  it  between  any  two 
heads  in  the  same.  Secondly,  the  spirit  instructed  the  Apostles  in  the 
gift  of  speaking  several  languages  ; a knowledge  so  remote  from  our 
dealers  in  this  art,  that  they  neither  understand  propriety  of  words  or 
phrases  in  their  own.  Lastly  (say  these  objectors),  the  modern  artists 
do  utterly  exclude  all  approaches  of  the  spirit,  and  bar  up  its  ancient 
way  of  entering  by  covering  themselves  so  close  and  so  industriously 
atop.  For  they  will  needs  have  it  as  a point  clearly  gained,  that  the 
cloven  tongues  never  sat  upon  the  apostles'  heads  while  their  hats  were 
on. 

Now  the  force  of  these  objections  seems  to  consist  in  the  different 
acceptation  of  the  word  spirit,  which,  if  it  be  understood  for  a super- 
natural assistance  approaching  from  without,  the  objectors  have  reason, 
and  their  assertions  may  be  allowed  ; but  the  spirit  we  treat  of  here, 
proceeding  entirely  from  within,  the  argument  of  these  adversaries  is 
wholly  eluded.  And  upon  the  same  account  our  modern  artificers 
find  it  an  expedient  of  absolute  necessity  to  cover  their  heads  as  close 
as  they  can  in  order  to  prevent  perspiration,  than  which  nothing  is  ob- 
served to  be  a greater  spender  of  mechanic  light,  as  we  may  perhaps 
farther  show  in  convenient  place. 

To  proceed  therefore  upon  the  phenomenon  of  spiritual  mechanism, 


A FRAGMENT. 


*11 


it  is  here  to  be  noted  that,  in  forming  and  working  up  the  spirit,  the 
assembly  has  a considerable  share  as  well  as  the  preacher.  The  me- 
thod of  this  arcanum  is  as  follows  : tl^ey  violently  strain  their  eyeballs' 
inward,  half  closing  the  lids  ; then,  as  they  sit,  they  are  in  a perpetual 
motion  of  see-saw,  making  long  hums  at  proper  periods,  and  continuing 
the  sound  at  equal  height,  choosing  their  time  in  those  intermissions 
while  the  preacher  is  at  ebb.  Neither  is  this  practice,  in  any  part  of  it, 
so  singular  or  improbable  as  not  to  be  traced  in  distant  regions  from 
reading  and  observation.  For,  first,  the  Jauguis,*  or  enlightened  saints 
of  India,  see  all  their  visions  by  help  of  an  acquired  straining  and  pres- 
sure of  the  eyes.  Secondly,  the  art  of  see-saw  on  a beam,  and  swinging 
by  session  upon  a cord,  in  order  to  raise  artificial  ecstasies,  hath  been 
derived  to  us  from  our  Scythian  ancestors, t where  it  is  practised  at  this 
day  among  the  women.  Lastly,  the  whole  proceeding,  as  I have  here 
related  it,  is  performed  by  the  natives  of  Ireland,  with  a considerable 
improvement ; and  it  is  granted  that  this  noble  nation  hath,  of  all 
others,  admitted  fewer  corruptions,  and  degenerated  least  from  the 
purity  of  the  old  Tartars.  Now  it  is  usual  for  a knot  of  Irish  men  and 
women  to  abstract  themselves  from  matter,  bind  up  all  their  senses, 
grow  visionary  and  spiritual  by  influence  of  a short  pipe  of  tobacco 
handed  round  the  company,  each  preserving  the  smoke  in  his  mouth 
till  it  comes  again  to  his  turn  to  take  in  fresh  ; at  the  same  time  there 
is  a concert  of  a continued  gentle  hum,  repeated  and  renewed  by  in- 
stinct as  occasion  requires,  and  they  move  their  bodies  up  and  down  to  a 
degree,  that  sometimes  their  heads  and  points  lie  parallel  to  the  horizon. 
Meanwhile  you  may  observe  their  eyes  turned  up  in  the  posture  of  one 
who  endeavours  to  keep  himself  awake  ; by  which,  and  many  other 
symptoms  among  them,  it  manifestly  appears  that  the  reasoning  facul- 
ties are  all  suspended  and  superseded,  that  imagination  hath  usurped 
the  seat,  scattering  a thousand  deliriums  over  the  brain.  Returning 
from  this  digression,  I shall  describe  the  methods  by  which  the  spirit 
approaches.  The  eyes  being  disposed  according  to  art,  at  first  you  can 
see  nothing  ; but  after  a short  pause  a small  glimmering  light  begins 
to  appear  and  dance  before  you.  Then,  by  frequently  moving  your 
body  up  and  down,  you  perceive  the  vapours  to  ascend  very  fast,  till 
you  are  perfectly  dosed  and  flustered,  like  one  who  drinks  too  much  in 
a morning.  Meanwhile  the  preacher  is  also  at  work.  He  begins  a louid 
hum,  which  pierces  you  quite  through  ; this  is  immediately  returned  by 
the  audience,  and  you  find  yourself  prompted  to  imitate  them  by  a 
mere  spontaneous  impulse,  without  knowing  what  you  do.  The  inter- 
stitia  are  duly  filled  up  by  the  preacher  to  prevent  too  long  a pause,  under 
which  the  spirit  would  soon  faint  and  grow  languid. 

This  is  all  I am  allowed  to  discover  about  the  progress  of  the  spirit, 
with  relation  to  that  part  which  is  borne  by  the  assembly  ; but  in  the 
methods  of  the  preacher,  to  which  I now  proceed,  I shall  be  more  la*  ge 
and  particular. 


• Bernier,  Mem.  de  MogoL 


♦ Guagnini,  Hist.  Sarmat, 


*73 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


SECTION  II. 

YOU  will  read  it  very  gravely  remarked  in  the  books  of  those  illus* 
trious  and  right  eloquent  penmen,  the  modern  travellers,  that 
the  fundamental  difference  in  point  of  religion  between  the  wild  Indians 
and  us  lies  in  this  : that  we  worship  God  and  they  worship  the  Devil. 

But  there  are  certain  critics  who  will  by  no  means  admit  of  this  dis- 
tinction, rather  believing  that  all  nations  whatsoever  adore  the  true 
God,  because  they  seem  to  intend  their  devotions  to  some  invisible 
power,  of  greatest  goodness  and  ability  to  help  them,  which  perhaps 
will  take  in  the  brightest  attributes  ascribed  to  the  Divinity.  Others, 
again,  inform  us  that  those  idolaters  adore  two  principles— the  prin- 
ciple of  good  and  that  of  evil ; which  indeed  I am  apt  to  look  upon  as 
the  most  universal  notion,  that  mankind,  by  the  mere  light  of  nature, 
ever  entertained  of  things  invisible.  How  this  idea  hath  been  man- 
aged by  the  Indians  and  us,  and  with  what  advantage  to  the  under- 
standings of  either,  may  well  deserve  to  be  examined.  To  me  the  differ- 
ence appears  little  more  than  this  : that  they  are  put  oftener  upon  their 
knees  by  their  fears,  and  we  by  our  desires  ; that  the  former  set  them 
a-praying,  and  us  a-cursing.  What  I applaud  them  for  is  their  discre- 
tion in  limiting  their  devotions  and  their  deities  to  their  several  districts, 
nor  ever  suffering  the  liturgy  of  the  white  God  to  cross  or  interfere  with 
that  of  the  black.  Not  so  with  us,  who,  pretending  by  the  lines  and 
measures  of  our  reason  to  extend  the  dominion  of  one  invisible  power, 
and  contract  that  of  the  other,  have  discovered  a gross  ignorance  in 
the  natures  of  good  and  evil,  and  most  horribly  confounded  the  fron-  ■ 
tiers  of  both.  After  men  have  lifted  up  the  throne  of  their  divinity  to 
the  ccelinn  empyrcemn , adorned  with  all  such  qualities  and  accomplish- 
ments as  themselves  seem  most  to  value  and  possess  ; after  they  have  < 
sunk  their  principle  of  evil  to  the  lowest  centre,  bound  him  with  chains, 
loaded  him  with  curses,  furnished  him  with  viler  dispositions  than  any 
rake-hell  of  the  town,  accoutred  him  with  tail,  and  horns,  and  huge 
claws,  and  saucer  eyes,— I laugh  aloud  to  see  these  reasoners  at  the 
same  time  engaged  in  wise  dispute  about  certain  walks  and  purlieux, 
whether  they  are  in  the  verge  of  God  or  the  Devil,  seriously  debating 
whether  such  and  such  influences  come  into  men’s  minds  from  above 
or  below,  whether  certain  passions  and  affections  are  guided  by  the 
evil  Spirit  or  the  good. 

Dum  fas  atque  nefas  exiguo  fine  libidinum 
Discernunt  avidi ” 

Thus  do  men  establish  a fellowship  of  Christ  with  Belial,  and  such  is 
the  analogy  between  cloven  tongues  and  cloven  feet.  Of  the  like  nature 
is  the  disquisition  before  us  : it  hath  continued  these  hundred  years 
an  even  debate,  whether  the  deportment  and  the  cant  of  our  English 
enthusiastic  preachers  were  possession  or  inspiration,  and  a world  of 
argument  has  been  drained  on  either  side,  perhaps  to  little  purpose. 
For  I think  it  is  in  life  as  in  tragedy,  where  it  is  held  a conviction  of 
great  defect,  both  in  order  and  invention,  to  interpose  the  assistance  of 
preternatural  power,  without  an  absolute  and  last  necessity.  However, 
it  is  a sketch  of  human  vanity,  for  every  individual  to  imagine  the  whole 


A FRAGMENT. 


*79 


universe  is  interested  in  his  meanest  concern.  If  he  hath  got  cleanly 
over  a kennel,  some  angel,  unseen,  descended  on  purpose  to  help  him 
by  the  hand ; if  he  hath  knocked  his  head  against  a post,  it  was  the 
Devil,  for  his  sins,  let  loose  from  hell  on  purpose  to  buffet  him.  Who 
that  sees  a little  paltry  mortal  droning  and  dreaming  and  drivelling  to 
a multitude,  can  think  it  agreeable  to  common  good  sense,  that  either 
heaven  or  hell  should  be  put  to  the  trouble  of  influence  or  inspection 
upon  what  he  is  about?  Therefore  I am  resolved  immediately  to  weed 
• this  error  out  of  mankind,  by  making  it  clear  that  this  mystery  of  vend- 
ing spiritual  gifts  is  nothing  but  a trade,  acquired  by  as  much  instruction 
and  mastered  by  equal  practice  and  application  as  others  are.  This 
will  best  appear  by  describing  and  deducing  the  whole  process  of  the 
operation,  as  variously  as  it  hath  fallen  under  my  knowledge  or  expe- 
rience.* 

• •••••• 

• •••••• 

Here  it  may  not  be  amiss,  to  add  a few  words  upon  the  laudable 
practice  of  wearing  quilted  caps  ; which  is  not  a matter  of  mere 
custom,  humour,  or  fashion,  as  some  would  pretend,  but  an  institution 
of  great  sagacity  and  use  ; these,  when  moistened  with  sweat,  stop  all 
perspiration,  and  by  reverberating  the  heat,  prevent  the  spirit  from 
evaporating  any  way,  but  at  the  mouth  ; even  as  a skilful  housewife, 
that  covers  her  still  with  a wet  clout,  for  the  same  reason,  and  finds  the 
same  effect.  For,  it  is  the  opinion  of  choice  virtuosi,  that  the  brain  is 
only  a crowd  of  little  animals,  but  with  teeth  and  claws  extremely  sharp, 
and  therefore,  cling  together  in  the  contexture  we  behold,  like  the 
picture  of  Hobbes's  Leviathan,  or  like  bees  in  perpendicular  swarm  upon 
a tree,  or  like  a carrion  corrupted  into  vermin,  still  preserving  the 
shape  and  figure  of  the  mother  animal.  That  all  invention  is  formed 
by  the  morsure  of  two  or  more  of  these  animals  upon  certain  capillary 
nerves,  which  proceed  from  thence,  whereof  three  branches  spread  into 
the  tongue,  and  two  into  the  right  hand.  They  hold  also,  that  these 
animals  are  of  a constitution  extremely  cold ; that  their  food  is  the  air 
we  attract,  their  excrement  phlegm,  and  that  what  we  vulgarly  call 
rheums  and  colds,  and  distillations,  is  nothing  else  but  an  epidemical 
looseness,  to  which  that  little  commonwealth  is  very  subject,  from  the 
climate  it  lies  under.  Further,  that  nothing  less  than  a violent  heat 
can  disentangle  these  creatures  from  their  hamated  station  of  life,  or 
give  them  vigour  and  humour  to  imprint  the  marks  of  their  little  teeth. 
That  if  the  morsure  be  hexagonal,  it  produces  poetry ; the  circular 
gives  eloquence  ; if  the  bite  hath  been  conical,  the  person  whose  nerve 
is  so  affected  shall  be  disposed  to  write  upon  the  politics ; and  so  of 
the  rest. 

I shall  now  discourse  briefly,  by  what  kind  of  practices  the  voice  is 
best  governed,  towards  the  composition  and  improvement  of  the  spirit ; 

* Here  the  whole  scheme  of  spiritual  mechanism  was  deduced  and  explained, 
with  an  appearance  of  great  reading  and  observation ; but  it  was  thought  neither 
safe  nor  convenient  to  print  it. 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


280 

for,  without  a competent  skill  in  tuning  and  toning  each  word  and  syl- 
lable and  letter  to  their  due  cadence,  the  whole  operation  is  incomplete, 
misses  entirely  of  its  effect  on  the  hearers, ^and  puts  the  workman  him- 
self to  continual  pains  for  new  supplies,  without  success.  For,  it  is  to 
be  understood,  that  in  the  language  of  the  spirit,  cant  and  droning 
supply  the  place  of  sense  and  reason,  in  the  language  of  men;  because, 
in  spiritual  harangues,  the  disposition  of  the  words,  according  to  the 
art  of  grammar,  hath  not  the  least  use,  but  the  skill  and  influence  wholly 
lie  in  the  choice  and  cadence  of  the  syllables  ; even  as  a discreet  com 
poser,  who  in  setting  a song,  changes  the  words  and  order  so  often,  that 
he  is  forced  to  make  it  nonsense,  before  he  can  make  it  music.  For  this 
reason  it  hath  been  held  by  some  that  the  art  of  canting  is  ever  in 
greatest  perfection,  when  managed  by  ignorance  : which  is  thought  to 
be  enigmatically  meant  by  Plutarch,  w?hen  he  tells  us,  that  the  best  mu- 
sical instruments  were  made  from  the  bones  of  an  ass.  And  the  pro- 
founder critics  upon  that  pa  e,  are  of  opinion,  the  word  in  its  genuine 
signification,  means  no  other  than  a jaw-bone  ; though  some  rather 
think  it  to  have  been  the  os  sacrum;  but  in  so  nice  a case,  I shall  not 
take  upon  me  to  decide  : the  curious  are  at  liberty  to  pick  from  it 
whatever  they  please. 

The  first  ingredient  towards  the  art  of  canting,  is  a competent  share 
of  inward  light  : that  is  to  say,  a large  memory,  plentifully  fraught 
with  theological  polysyllables,  and  mysterious  texts  from  Holy  Writ, 
applied  and  digested  by  those  methods  and  mechanical  operations 
already  related  : the  bearers  of  this  light,  resembling  lanthorns,  com- 
pact of  leaves  from  old  Geneva  bibles  ; which  invention,  Sir  H-mphry  ! 
Edw-n,  during  his  mayoralty  of  happy  memory,  highly  approved  and 
advanced  ; affirming,  the  Scripture  to  be  now  fulfilled,  where  it  says, 

“ Thy  word  is  a lan thorn  to  my  feet,  and  a light  to  my  paths.” 

Novi',  the  art  of  canting  consists  in  skilfully  adapting  the  voice,  to 
whatever  words  the  spirit  delivers,  that  each  may  strfke  the  ears  of  the 
audience,  with  its  most  significant  cadence.  The  force  or  energy  of 
this  eloquence  is  not  to  be  found,  as  among  ancient  orators,  in  the  dis- 
position of  words  to  a sentence,  or  the  turning  of  long  periods  ; but 
agreeable  to  the  modern  refinements  in  music,  is  taken  up  wholly  in 
dwelling,  and  dilating  upon  syllables  and  letters.  Thus  it  is  frequent 
for  a single  vowel  to  draw  sighs  from  a multitude  ; and  for  a whole 
assembly  of  Saints  to  sob  to  the  music  of  one  solitary  liquid.  But  these 
are  trifles  ; when  even  sounds  inarticulate  are  observed  to  produce  as 
forcible  effects.  A master  workman  shall  blow  his  nose  so  powerfully, 
as  to  pierce  the  hearts  of  his  people,  who  are  disposed  to  receive  the 
excrements  of  his  brain  with  the  same  reverence,  as  the  issue  of  it. 
Hawking,  spitting,  and  belching,  the  defects  of  other  men's  rhetoric, 
are  the  flowers  and  figures  and  ornaments  of  his.  For,  the  spirit  being 
the  same  in  all  it  is  of  no  import  through  what  vehicle  it  is  conveyed. 

It  is  a point  of  too  much  difficulty  to  draw  the  principles  of  this 
famous  art,  within  the  compass  of  certain  adequate  rules.  However, 
perhaps  I may  one  day  oblige  the  world  with  my  “ Critical  Essay  upon 
the  art  of  canting,  philosophically,  physically,  and  musically  con- 
sidered.” 

But,  among  all  improvements  of  the  spirit,  wherein  the  voice  hath 


A FRAGMENT 


281 

borne  a part,  there  is  none  to  be  compared  with  that  of  conveying  the 
sound  through  the  nose,  which  under  the  denomination  of  snuffling 
hath  passed  with  so  great  applause  in  the  world.  The  originals  of  this 
institution  are  very  dark  ; but  having  been  initiated  into  the  mystery 
of  it,  and  leave  being  given  me  to  publish  it  to  the  world,  I shall  deliver 
as  direct  a relation  as  I can. 

This  art,  like  many  other  famous  inventions,  owed  its  birth,  or  at. 
least,  improvement  and  perfection,  to  an  effect  of  chance,  but  was  es- 
tablished upon  solid  reasons,  and  hath  flourished  in  this  island  ever 
since  with  great  lustre.  All  agree  that  it  first  appeared  upon  the  decay 
and  discouragement  of  bag-pipes,  which  having  long  suffered  under 
the  mortal  hatred  of  the  brethren,  tottered  for  a time,  and  at  last  fell 
with  monarchy.  The  story  is  thus  related. 

As  yet  snuffling  was  not  ; when  the  following  adventure  happened  to 
a Banbury"saitrcr'"i^  certain  day,  while  he  was  far  engaged  among 
the  tabernacles  of  the  wicked,  he  felt  the  outward  man  put  into  odd 
commotions,  and  strangely  pricked  forward  by  the  inward  : an  effect 
very  usual  among  the  modern  inspired.  For,  some  think,  that  the 
spirit  is  apt  to  feed  on  the  flesh,  like  hungry  wines  upon  raw  beef. 
Others  rather  believe,  there  is  a perpetual  game  at  leap-frog  between 
both  ; and  sometimes,  the  flesh  is  uppermost,  and  sometimes  the  spirit; 
adding,  that  the  former,  while  it  is  in  the  state  of  a rider,  wears  huge 
Rippon  spurs,  and  when  it  comes  to  the  turn  of  being  bearer,  is  wonder- 
fully head-strong,  and  hard-mouthed.  However,  it  came  about,  the 
saint  felt  his  vessel  full  extended  in  every  part  (a  very  natural  effect  of 
strong  inspiration)  ; and  the  place  and  time  falling  out  so  unluckily, 
that  he  could  not  have  convenience  of  evacuating  upwards,  by 
repetition,  prayer  or  lecture,  he  was  forced  to  open  an  inferior  vent.  In 
short,  he  wrestled  with  the  flesh  so  long,  that  he  at  length  subdued  it, 
coming  off  with  honourable  wounds  all  before.  The  surgeon  had  now 
cured  the  parts  primarily  affected  ; but  the  disease,  driven  from  its 
post,  flew  up  into  his  head  ; and,  as  a skilful  general,  valiantly  attacked 
in  his  trenches,  and  beaten  from  the  field,  by  flying  marches  withdraws 
to  the  capital  city,  breaking  down  the  bridges  to  prevent  pursuit  ; so 
the  disease  repelled  from  its  first  station,  fled  before  the  rod  of  Hermes, 
to  the  upper  region,  there  fortifying  itself ; but,  finding  the  foe  making 
attacks  at  the  nose,  broke  down  the  bridge,  and  retired  to  the  head- 
quarters. Now,  the  naturalists  observe,  that  there  is  in  human  noses, 
an  idiosyncrasy,  by  virtue  of  which,  the  more  the  passage  is  obstructed, 
the  more  our  speech  delights  to  go  through,  as  the  music  of  a flageolet 
is  made  by  the  stops.  By  this  method  the  twang  of  the  nose  becomes 
perfectly  to  resemble  the  snuffle  of  a bag-pipe,  and  is  found  to  be 
equally  attractive  of  British  ears  ; whereof  the  saint  had  sudden  experi- 
ence, by  practising  his  new  faculty  with  wonderful  success  in  the  opera- 
tion of  the  spirit  : for  in  a short  time  no  doctrine  passed  for  sound  and 
orthodox,  unless  it  were  delivered  through  the  nose.  Straight  every 
pastor  copied  after  this  original  ; and  those  who  could  not  otherwise 
arrive  to  a perfection,  spirited  by  a noble  zeal,  made  use  of  the  same 
experiment  to  acquire  it.  So  that,  I think,  it  may  be  truly  affirmed, 
the  saints  owe  their  empire  to  the  snuffling  of  one  animal,  as  Darius  did 
his  to  the  neighing  of  another ; and  both  stratagems  were  penoimed 


282 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


by  the  same  art ; for  we  read  how  the  Persian  beast  acquired  his 

faculty  by  covering  a mare  the  day  before.* 

I should  now  have  done,  if  I were  not  convinced,  that  whatever  I 
have  yet  advanced  upon  this  subject,  is  liable  to  great  exception.  For, 
allowing  all  I have  said  to  be  true,  it  may  still  be  justly  objected,  that 
there  is  in  the  commonwealth  of  artificial  enthusiasm,  some  real 
foundation  for  art  to  work  upon  in  the  temper  and  complexion  of  indi- 
viduals* which  other  mortals  seem  to  want.  Observe  but  the  gesture, 
the  motion,  and  the  countenance,  of  some  choice  professors,  though  in 
their  most  familiar  actions,  you  will  find  them  of  a different  race  from 
the  rest  of  human  creatures.  Remark  your  commonest  pretender  to  a 
light  within,  how  dark,  and  dirty,  and  gloomy  he  is  without ; as  lanterns 
which  the  more  light  they  bear  in  their  bodies,  cast  out  so  much  the 
more  soot,  and  smoke,  and  fuliginous  matter  to  adhere  to  the  sides. 
Listen  but  to  their  ordinary  talk,  and  look  on  the  mouth  that  delivers 
it  ; you  will  imagine  you  are  hearing  some  ancient  oracle,  and  your 
understanding  will  be  equally  informed.  Upon  these  and  the  like 
reasons,  certain  objectors  pretend  to  put  it  beyond  all  doubt,  that  there 
must  be  a sort  of  preternatural  spirit,  possessing  the  heads  of  the 
modern  saints  ; and  some  will  have  it  to  be  the  heat  of  zeal,  working 
upon  the  dregs  of  ignorance,  as  other  spirits  are  produced  from  lees  by 
the  force  of  fire.  Some  again  think  that  when  our  earthly  tabernacles 
are  disordered  and  desolate,  shaken  and  out  of  repair,  the  spirit  delights 
to  dwell  within  them;  as  houses  are  said  to  be  haunted,  when  they  are 
forsaken  and  gone  to  decay. 

To  set  this  matter  in  as  fair  a light  as  possible,  I shall  here,  very 
briefly,  deduce  the  history  of  fanaticism  from  the  most  early  ages  to  the 
present.  And  if  we  are  able  to  fix  upon  any  one  material  or  funda- 
mental point  wherein  the  chief  possessors  have  universally  agreed,  I 
think  we  may  reasonably  lay  hold  on  that,  and  assign  it  for  the  great 
seed  or  principle  of  the  spirit. 

The  most  early  traces  we  meet  with  of  fanatics  in  ancient  story  are 
among  the  Egyptians,  who  instituted  those  rites,  known  in  Greece  by 
the  names  of  Orgya,  Panegyres,  and  Dionysia,  whether  introduced  \ 
there  by  Orpheus  or  Melampus,  we  shall  not  dispute  at  present ; nor, 
in  all  likelihood,  at  any  time  for  the  future. t These  feasts  were  cele- 
brated to  the  honour  of  Osiris,  whom  the  Grecians  called  Dionysos, 
and  is  the  same  with  Bacchus,  which  has  betrayed  some  superficial 
readers  to  imagine  that  the  whole  business  was  nothing  more  than  a 
set  of  roaring,  scouring  companions,  overcharged  with  wine  ; but  this 
is  a scandalous  mistake  foisted  on  the  world  by  a sort  of  modern 
authors  who  have  too  literal  an  understanding  ; and  because  antiquity 
is  to  be  traced  backwards  do,  therefore,  like  Jews,  begin  their  books  at 
the  wrong  end,  as  if  learning  were  a sort  of  conjuring.  These  are  the 
men  who  pretend  to  understand  a book  by  scouting  through  the  index, 
as  if  a traveller  should  go  about  to  describe  a palace  when  he  had  seen 
nothing  but  the  privy;  or  like  certain  fortune-tellers  in  Northern 
America,  who  have  a way  of  reading  a man's  destiny  by  peeping  in  his 
breech.  For,  at  the  time  of  instituting  these  mysteries,}:  there  was  not 

* Herodot.  t Diod.  Sic.  I.  I.  Plub  de  Iside  et  Osiride.  $ Herod.  1.  2 


A FRAGMENT. 


283 

one  vine  in  all  Egypt,  the  natives  drinking  nothing  but  ale  ; which 
liquor  seems  to  have  been  far  more  ancient  than  wine,  and  has  the 
honour  of  owing  its  invention  and  progress  not  only  to  the  Egyptian 
Osiris,*  but  to  the  Grecian  Bacchus,  who  in  their  famous  expedition 
carried  the  receipt  of  it  along  with  them,  and  gave  it  to  the  nations 
they  visited  or  subdued.  Besides,  Bacchus  himself  was  very  seldom 
or  never  drunk ; for  it  is  recorded  of  him  that  he  was  the  first  inventor 
of  the  mitre, t which  he  wore  continually  on  his  head  (as  the  whole 
company  of  Bacchanals  did)  to  prevent  vapours  and  the  headache  after 
hard  drinking.  And  for  this  reason  (say  some)  the  Scarlet  Whore, 
when  she  makes  the  kings  of  the  earth  drunk  with  her  cup  of  abomi- 
nation, is  always  sober  herself,  though  she  never  balks  the  glass  in  her 
turn,  being,  it  seems,  kept  upon  her  legs  by  the  virtue  of  her  triple 
mitre.  Now  these  feasts  were  instituted  in  imitation  of  the  famous 
expedition  Osiris  made  through  the  world,  and  of  the  company  that 
attended  him,  whereof  the  Bacchanalian  ceremonies  were  so  many 
types  and  symbols.J  From  which  account  it  is  manifest  that  the  fanatic 
rites  of  these  Bacchanals  cannot  be  imputed  to  intoxications  by  wine, 
but  must  needs  have  had  a deeper  foundation.  What  this  was  we 
may  gather  large  hints  from  certain  circumstances  in  the  course  of 
their  mysteries.  For,  in  the  first  place,  there  was  in  their  processions 
an  entire  mixture  and  confusion  of  sexes  : they  affected  to  ramble  about 
hills  and  deserts ; their  garlands  were  of  ivy  and  vine,  emblems  of 
cleaving  and  clinging  ; or  of  fir,  the  parent  of  turpentine.  It  is  added 
that  they  imitated  satyrs,  were  attended  by  goats,  and  rode  upon  asses, 
all  companions  of  great  skill  and  practice  in  affairs  of  gallantry.  They 
bore  for  their  ensigns  certain  curious  figures  perched  upon  long  poles, 
made  into  the  shape  and  size  of  the  virga  genitalis  with  its  appurte- 
nances. which  were  so  many  shadows  and  emblems  of  the  whole 
mystery,  as  well  as  trophies  set  up  by  the  female  conquerors.  Lastly, 
in  a certain  town  of  Attica,  the  whole  solemnity§  stript  of  all  its  types 
was  performed  in  puris  naturalibus , the  votaries  not  flying  in  coveys, 
but  sorted  into  couples.  The  same  may  be  farther  conjectured  from 
the  death  of  Orpheus,  one  of  the  institutors  of  these  mysteries,  who 
was  torn  in  pieces  by  women,  because  he  refused  to||  communicate  his 
orgies  to  them  ; which  others  explained  by  telling  us  he  had  castrated 
himself  upon  grief  for  the  loss  of  his  wife. 

Omitting  many  others  of  less  note,  the  next  fanatics  we  meet  with 
of  any  eminence  were  the  numerous  sects  of  heretics  appearing  in  the 
five  first  centuries  of  the  Christian  era,  from  Simon  Magus  and  his 
followers  to  those  of  Eutvches.  I have  collected  their  systems  from 
infinite  reading,  and,  comparing  them  with  those  of  their  successors  in 
the  several  ages  since,  I find  there  are  certain  bounds  set  even  to  the 
irregularities  of  human  thought,  and  those  a great  deal  narrower  than 
is  commonly  apprehended.  For  as  they  all  frequently  interfere  even 
in  their  wildest  ravings,  so  there  is  one  fundamental  point  wherein  they 
are  sure  to  meet  as  lines  in  a centre,  and  that  is  the  community  of 

* Diod.  Sic.  1.  1 & 3.  t Id.  I.  4.^,^  See  the  particulars  in  Diod.  Sic.  1.  1 & 

§ Dionysia  Braurpma.  JJ  Vid.  Photium  in  excerptis  eConone. 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS . 


2S4 

women.  Great  were  their  solicitudes  in  this  matter,  and  they  never 
failed  of  certain  articles  in  their  schemes  of  worship  on  purpose  to  esta- 
blish it. 

The  last  fanatics  of  note  were  those  which  started  up  in  Germany,  a 
little  after  the  Reformation  of  Luther,  springing  as  mushrooms  do  at 
the  end  of  a harvest.  Such  were  John  of  Leyden,  David  George,  Adam 
Neuster,  and  many  others ; whose  visions  and  revelations  always 
terminated  in  leading  about  half  a dozen  sisters  apiece,  and  making 
that  practice  a fundamental  part  of  their  system.  For  human  life  is  a 
continual  navigation,  and  if  we  expect  our  vessels  to  pass  with  safety 
through  the  waves  and  tempests  of  this  fluctuating  world,  it  is  necessary 
to  make  a good  provision  of  the  flesh,  as  seamen  lay  in  store  of  beef  for 
a long  voyage. 

Now  from  this  brief  survey  of  some  principal  sects  among  the  fana- 
tics in  all  ages  (having  omitted  the  Mahometans  and  others,  who  might 
also  help  to  confirm  the  argument  I am  about),  to  which  I might  add 
several  among  ourselves,  such  as  the  Family  of  Love,  Sweet  Singers  of 
Israel,  and  the  like,*  and  from  reflecting  upon  that  fundamental  point 
in  their  doctrines  about  women,  wherein  they  have  so  unanimously 
agreed,  I am  apt  to  imagine  that  the  seed  or  principle  which  has  ever 
put  men  upon  visions  in  things  invisible,  is  of  a corporeal  nature  ; for 
the  profounder  chemists  inform  us  that  the  strongest  spirits  may  be 
extracted  from  human  flesh.  Besides,  the  spinal  marrow  being  nothing 
else  but  a continuation  of  the  brain,  must  needs  create  a very  free  com- 
munication between  the  superior  faculties  and  those  below.  And  thus 
the  thorn  in  the  flesh  serves  for  a spur  to  the  spirit.  I think  it  is  agreed 
among  physicians  that  nothing  affects  the  head  so  much  as  a tenti- 
ginous  humour  repelled  and  elated  to  the  upper  region,  found  by  daily 
practice  to  run  frequently  up  into  madness.  A very  eminent  member 
of  the  faculty  assured  me  that  when  the  quakers  first  appeared  he 
seldom  was  without  some  female  patients  among  them,  for  the  furor 
* * • Persons  of  a visionary  devotion,  either  men  or  women,  are  in 

their  complexion  of  all  others  the  most  amorous.  For  zeal  is  frequently 
kindled  from  the  same  spark  with  other  fires,  and  from  inflaming  bro- 
therly love  will  proceed  to  raise  that  of  a gallant.  If  we  inspect  into 
the  usual  proc^cc  of  modern  courtship,  we  shall  find  it  to  consist  in 
a devout  turn  of  the  eyes,  called  ogling  ; an  artificial  form  of  canting 
and  whining  by  rote,  every  interval,  101  ant  of  other  matter,  made  up 
with  a shrug  or  a hum,  a sigh  or  a groan  ; the  st^le  compact  of  insig- 
nificant words,  incoherences,  and  repetition.  These,  I take,  to  the 
most  accomplished  rules  of  address  to  a mistress  ; and  where  are  these 
performed  with  more  dexterity  than  by  the  saints  ? Nay,  to  bring  this 
argument  yet  closer,  I have  been  informed  by  certain  sanguine  brethren 
of  the  first  class  that,  in  the  height  and  orgasmus  of  their  spiritual 

exercise  *ft  has  been  frequent  with  them ; immediately 

after  which  they  found  the  spirit  to  relax  and  flag  of  a sudden  with  the 
nerves,  and  they  were  forced  to  hasten  to  a conclusion.  This  may  be 
farther  strengthened  by  observing,  with  wonder,  how  unaccountably  all 
females  are  attracted  by  visionary  or  enthusiastic  preachers,  though 
never  so  contemptible  in  their  outward  men  ; which  is  usually  supposed 
to  be  done  upon  considerations  purely  spiritual,  without  any  carnal 


A FRAGMENT. 


*S5 

regards  at  all.  But  I have  reason  to  think  the  sex  hath  certain  cha- 
racteristics by  which  they  form  a truer  judgment  of  human  abilities  and 
performings  than  we  ourselves  can  possibly  do  of  each  other.  Let  that 
be  as  it  will,  thus  much  is  certain  that,  however  spiritual  intrigues  begin, 
they  generally  conclude  like  all  others  : they  may  branch  upwards 
towards  heaven,  but  the  root  is  in  the  earth.  Too  intense  a contem- 
plation is  not  the  business  of  flesh  and  blood  ; it  must,  by  the  necessary 
course  of  things,  in  a little  time  let  go  its  hold  and  fail  into  matter. 
Lovers,  for  the  sake  of  celestial  converse,  are  but  another  sort  of  Plato- 
nics, who  pretend  to  see  stars  and  heaven  in  ladies'  eyes,  and  to  look 
or  think  no  lower ; but  the  same  pit  is  provided  for  both  ; and  they 
seem  a perfect  moral  to  the  story  of  that  philosopher,  who,  while  his 
thoughts  and  eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  constellations,  found  himself 
seduced  by  his  lower  parts  into  a ditch. 

1 had  somewhat  more  to  say  upon  this  part  of  the  subject  ; but  the 
post  is  just  going,  which  forces  me  in  great  haste  to  conclude. 

Sir,  yours,  &c. 

Pray  burn  this  to  vour  hands. 


* 


s 


MISCELLANIES 

IN 


PROSE  AND  VERSE. 


DIRECTIONS  TO  SERVANTS. 


RULES  THAT  CONCERN  ALL  SERVANTS  IN  GENERAL, 

WHEN  your  master  or  lady  calls  a servant  by  name,  if  that  servant 
be  not  in  the  way,  none  of  you  are  to  answer,  for  then  there  will 
be  no  end  of  your  drudgery  ; and  masters  themselves  allow  that  if  a 
servant  comes  when  he  is  called  it  is  sufficient. 

When  you  have  done  a fault,  be  always. pert  and  insolent,  and  behave 
yourself  as  if  you  were  the  injured  person : this  will  immediately  put 
your  master  or  lady  off  their  mettle* 

If  you  see  your  master  wronged  by  any  of  your  fellow-servants,  be 
sure  to  conceal  it,  for  fear  of  being  called  a tell-tale.  However,  there  is 
one  exception,  in  case  of  a favourite  servant,  who  is  justly  hated  by  the 
whole  family,  who  therefore  are  bound  in  prudence  to  lay  all  the  faults 
they  can  upon  the  favourite. 

The  cook,  the  butler,  the  groom,  the  market-man,  and  every  other 
servant  who  is  concerned  in  the  expenses  of  the  family,  should  act  as  if 
his  master’s  whole  estate  ought  to  be  applied  to  that  servant’s  particular 
business.  For  instance,  if  the  cook  computes  his  master’s  estate  to  be 
a thousand  pounds  a year,  he  reasonably  concludes  that  a thousand 
pounds  a year  will  afford  meat  enough,  and  therefore  he  need  not  be 
sparing.  The  butler  makes  the  same  judgment ; so  may  the  groom 
and  the  coachman  : and  thus  every  branch  of  expense  will  be  filled  to 
your  master’s  honour. 

When  you  are  chid  before  company  (which,  with  submission  to  our 
masters  and  ladies,  is  an  unmannerly  practice),  it  often  happens  that 
some  stranger  will  have  the  good  nature  to  drop  a word  in  your  excuse  : 
in  such  a case  you  will  have  a good  title  to  justify  yourself,  and  may 
rightly  conclude  that  whenever  he  chides  you  afterward  on  other  occa- 
sions he  may  be  in  the  wrong  ; in  which  opinion  you  will  be  the  better 
confirmed  by  stating  the  case  to  yqur  felloe-servants  in  your  own  way, 
who  will  certainly  decide  in  your  favour.  Therefore,  as  I have  said 
before,  whenever  yon  are  chidden  complain  as  if  you  were  injured. 

It  often  happens  that  servants  sent  on  messages  are  apt  to  stay  out 
somewhat  longer  than  the  message  requires— perhaps  two,  four,  six,  or 
eight  hours,  or  some  such  trifle ; for  the  temptation,  tp  be  sure,  was 
great*  and  flesh  and  blood  cannot  always  resist.  When  you  return  the 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


*90 


master  storms,  the  lady  scolds  : stripping,  cudgelling,  and  turning  off  is 
the  word.  But  here  you  ought  to  be  provided  with  a set  of  excuses, 
enough  to  serve  on  all  occasions  : for  instance,  your  uncle  came  four- 
score miles  to  town  this  morning  on  purpose  to  see  you,  and  goes  back 
by  break  of  day  to-morrow  ; a brother  servant,  that  borrowed  money  ot 
you  when  he  was  out  of  place,  was  running  away  to  Ireland  ; you  were 
taking  leave  of  an  old  fellow-servant,  who  was  shipping  for  Barbadoes  ; 
your  father  sent  a cow  to  you  to  sell,  and  you  could  not  get  a chapman 
till  nine  at  night ; you  were  taking  leave  of  a dear  cousin  who  is  to  be 
hanged  next  Saturday ; you  wrenched  your  foot  against  a stone,  and 
were  forced  to  stay  three  hours  in  a shop  before  you  could  stir  a step  ; 
some  nastiness  was  thrown  on  you  out  of  a garret- window,  and  you  were 
ashamed  to  come  home  before  you  were  cleaned  and  the  smell  went 
off ; you  were  pressed  for  the  sea-service  and  carried  before  a justice 
of  the  peace,  who  kept  you  three  hours  before  he  examined  you,  and 
you  got  off  with  much  ado  ; a bailiff  by  mistake  seized  you  for  a debtor, 
and  kept  you  the  whole  evening  in  a spunging-house  ; you  were  told 
your  master  had  gone  to  a tavern  and  come  to  some  mischance,  and 
your  grief  was  so  great  that  you  inquired  for  his  honour  in  a hundred 
taverns  between  Pall  Mall  and  Temple  Bar. 

Take  all  tradesmen’s  parts  against  your  master,  and  when  you  are 
sent  to  buy  anything,  never  offer  to  cheapen  it,  but  generously  pay  the 
full  demand.  This  is  highly  to  your  master’s  honour,  and  may  be  some 
shillings  in  your  pocket ; and  you  are  to  consider,  if  your  master  has 
paid  too  much,  he  can  better  afford  the  loss  than  a poor  tradesman. 

Never  submit  to  stir  a finger  in  any  business  but  that  for  which  you 
were  particularly  hired.  For  example,  if  the  groom  be  drunk  or  absent, 
and  the  butler  be  ordered  to  shut  the  stable  door,  the  answer  is  ready — 
“ An’  please  your  honour,  I don’t  understand  horses  if  a corner  of  the 
hanging  wants  a single  nail  to  fasten  it,  and  the  footman  be  directed  to 
tack  it  up,  he  may  say  he  does  not  understand  that  sort  of  work,  but 
his  honour  may  send  for  the  upholsterer. 

Masters  and  ladies  are  usually  quarrelling  with  the  servants  for  not 
shutting  the  doors  after  them  ; but  neither  masters  nor  ladies  consider 
that  those  doors  must  be  open  before  they  can  be  shut,  and  that  the 
labour  is  double  to  open  and  shut  the  doors ; therefore  the  best  and 
shortest  and  easiest  way  is  to  do  neither.  But  if  you  are  so  often  teased 
to  shut  the  door  that  you  cannot  easily  forget  it,  then  give  the  door 
such  a clap  as  you  go  out  as  will  shake  the  whole  room  and  make  every- 
thing rattle  in  it,  to  put  your  master  and  lady  in  mind  that  you  observe 
their  directions. 

If  you  find  yourself  to  grow  into  favour  with  your  master  or  lady, 
take  some  opportunity,  in  a very  mild  way,  to  give  them  warning  ; and 
when  they  ask  the  reason,  and  seem  loth  to  part  with  you,  answer  that 
you  would  rather  live  with  them  than  anybody  else,  but  a poor  servant 
is  not  to  be  blamed  if  he  strives  to  better  himself ; that  service  is  no  in- 
heritance ; that  your  work  is  great,  and  your  wages  very  small.  Upon 
which,  if  your  master  has  any  generosity,  he  will  add  five  or  ten  shillings 
a quarter  rather  then  let  you  go  ; but  if  you  are  baulked,  and  have  no 
mind  to  go  otf,  get  some  fellow-servant  to  tell  your  master  that  he  has 
prevailed  upon  you  to  stay. 


i\ 

•1 


1 

i 


DIRECTIONS  TO  SERVANTS. 


*91 


Whatever  good  bits  you  can  pilfer  in  the  day,  save  them  to  junket 
with  your  fellow-servants  at  night ; and  take  in  the  butler,  provided  he 
will  give  you  drink. 

Write  your  own  name  and  your  sweetheart’s,  with  the  smoke  of  a 
candle,  on  the  roof  of  the  kitchen  or  the  servants’  hall  to  show  your 
learning. 

If  you  are  a young  sightly  fellow,  whenever  you  whisper  your  mis- 
tress at  the  table,  run  your  nose  full  in  her  cheek,  or  if  your  breath 
be  good,  breathe  full  in  her  face  : this  I have  known  to  have  had  very 
good  consequences  in  some  families. 

Never  come  till  you  have  been  called  three  or  four  times,  for  none 
but  dogs  will  come  at  the  first  whistle ; and  when  the  master  calls 
“Who’s  there?”  no  servant  is  bound  to  come — for  “Who’s  there”  i9 
nobody’s  name. 

When  you  have  broken  all  your  earthen  drinking-vessels  below  stairs 
(which  is  usually  done  in  a week),  the  copper  pot  will  do  as  well : it 
can  boil  milk,  heat  porridge,  hold  small  beer,  or  in  case  of  necessity 
serve  for  a jordan  ; therefore  apply  it  indifferently  to  all  these  uses ; but 
never  wash  or  scour  it,  for  fear  of  taking  off  the  tin. 

Although  you  are  allowed  knives  for  the  servants’  hall  at  meals,  yet 
you  ought  to  spare  them  and  make  use  of  your  master’s. 

Let  it  be  a constant  rule,  that  no  chair,  stool,  or  table  in  the  servants’ 
hall  or  the  kitchen  shall  have  above  three  legs,  which  has  been  the 
ancient  and  constant  practice  in  all  the  families  I ever  knew,  and  is 
said  to  be  founded  upon  two  reasons — first,  to  show  that  servants  are 
ever  in  a tottering  condition  ; secondly,  it  was  thought  a point  of  hu- 
mility that  the  servants’  chairs  and  tables  should  have  at  least  one  leg 
fewer  than  those  of  their  masters.  I grant  there  has  been  an  exception 
to  this  rule  with  regard  to  the  cook,  who,  by  old  custom,  was  allowed 
an  easy  chair  to  sleep  in  after  dinner  ; and  yet  I have  seldom  seen  them 
with  above  three  legs.  Now  this  epidemical  lameness  of  servants’  chairs 
is  by  philosophers  imputed  to  two  causes,  which  are  observed  to  make 
the  greatest  revolutions  in  states  and  empires — I mean  love  and  war. 
A stool,  a chair,  or  a table  is  the  first  weapon  taken  up  in  a general 
romping  or  skirmish  ; and  after  a peace,  the  chairs,  if  they  be  not  very 
strong,  are  apt  to  suffer  in  the  conduct  of  an  amour,  the  cook  being 
usually  fat  and  heavy,  and  the  butler  a little  in  drink. 

I could  never  endure  to  see  maid-servants  so  ungenteel  as  to  walk 
the  streets  with  their  petticoats  pinned  up  : it  is  a foolish  excuse  to 
allege  their  petticoats  will  be  dirty,  when  they  have  so  easy  a remedy  as 
to  walk  three  or  four  times  down  a clean  pair  of  stairs  after  they  come 
home. 

When  you  stop  to  tattle  with  some  crony  servant  in  the  same  street, 
leave  your  own  street-door  open  that  you  may  get  in  without  knocking 
when  you  come  back  ; otherwise  your  mistress  may  know  you  are  gone 
out,  and  you  must  be  chidden. 

I do  most  earnestly  exhort  you  all  to  unanimity  and  concord.  But 
mistake  me  not : you  may  quarrel  with  each  other  as  much  as  you 
please,  only  always  bear  in  mind  that  you  have  a common  enemy, 
which  is  your  master  and  lady,  and  you  have  a common  cause  to 
defend.  Believe  an  old  practitioner  : whoever,  out  of  malice  to  a fellow* 

19— X 


292  DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 

servant,  carries  a tale  to  his  master,  shall  be  ruined  by  a gene  1 con* 

federacy  against  him. 

The  general ‘place  of  rendezvous  for  all  the  servants,  both  in  winter 
and  summer,  is  the  kitchen  ; there  the  grand  affairs  of  the  family  ought 
to  be  consulted  ; whether  they  concern  the  stable,  the  dairy,  the  pantry, 
the  laundry,  the  cellar,  the  nursery,  the  dining-room,  or  my  lady’s 
chamber  ; there,  as  in  your  own  proper  element,  you  can  laugh,  and 
squall,  and  romp,  in  full  security. 

When  any  servant  comes  homes  drunk,  and  cannot  appear,  you  must 
all  join  in  telling  your  master  that  he  is  gone  to  bed  very  sick ; upon 
which  your  lady  will  be  so  good-natured  as  to  order  some  comfortable 
thing  for  the  poor  man  or  maid. 

When  your  master  and  lady  go  abroad  together  to  dinner,  or  on  a 
visit  for  the  evening,  you  need  leave  only  one  servant  in  the  house, 
unless  you  have  a blackguard  boy  to  answer  at  the  door,  and  attend  the 
children  if  there  be  any.  Who  is  to  stay  at  home  is  to  be  determined 
by  short  and  long  cuts,  and  the  stayer  at  home  may  be  comforted  by  a 
visit  from  a sweetheart,  without  danger  of  being  caught  together. 
These  opportunities  must  never  be  missed,  because  they  come  but 
sometimes  ; and  all  is  safe  enough  while  there  is  a servant  in  the 
house. 

When  your  master  or  lady  comes  home,  and  wants  a servant  who 
happens  to  be  abroad,  your  answer  must  be  that  he  had  but  just  that 
minute  stept  out,  being  sent  for  by  a cousin  who  was  dying. 

If  your  master  calls  you  by  name,  and  you  happen  to  answer  at  the 
fourth  call,  you  need  not  hurry  yourself ; and  if  you  be  chidden  for 
staying,  you  may  lawfully  say  you  came  no  sooner  because  you  did  not  < 
know  what  you  were  called  for. 

When  you  are  chidden  for  a fault,  as  you  go  out  of  the  room,  and 
downstairs,  mutter  loud  enough  to  be  plainly  heard  ; this  will  make 
him  believe  you  are  innocent. 

Whoever  comes  to  visit  your  master  or  lady  when  they  are  abroad, 
never  burden  your  memory  with  the  person’s  name,  for  indeed  you 
have  too  many  other  things  to  remember.  Besides,  it  is  a porter’s 
business,  and  your  master’s  fault  he  does  not  keep  one  ; and  who  can 
remember  names  ? and  you  will  certainly  mistake  them,  and  you  can 
neither  write  nor  read. 

If  it  be  possible,  never  tell  a lie  to  your  master  or  lady,  unless  you 
have  some  hopes  that  they  cannot  find  it  out  in  less  than  half  an  hour. 
When  a servant  is  turned  off,  all  his  faults  must  be  told,  although  most 
of  them  were  never  known  by  his  master  or  lady  : and  all  mischiefs 
done  by  others  charged  to  him.  And  when  they  ask  any  of  you  why 
you  never  acquainted  them  before  ? the  answer  is,  “ Sir,  or  madam, 
really  I was  afraid  it  would  make  you  angry  ; and  besides,  perhaps  you 
might  think  it  was  malice  in  me.”  Where  there  are  little  masters  and 
misses  in  a house,  they  are  usually  great  impediments  to  the  diversions 
of  the  servants  ; the  only  remedy  is  to  bribe  them  with  goody  goodies, 
that  they  may  not  tell  tales  to  papa  and  mamma. 

I advise  you  of  the  servants,  whose  master  lives  in  the  country,  and 
who  expect  vails,  always  to  stand  rank  and  file  when  a stranger  is  taking 
his  leave  ; so  that  he  must  of  necessity  pass  between  you ; and  he 


DIRECTIONS  TO  SERVANTS. 


293 


must  have  more  confidence,  or  less  money  than  usual,  if  any  of  you  let 
him  escape  ; and  according  as  he  behaves  himself,  remember  to  treat 
him  the  next  time  he  comes. 

If  you  are  sent  with  ready  money  to  buy  anything  at  a shop,  and  hap- 
pen at  that  time  to  be  out  of  pocket,  sink  the  money,  and  take  up  the 
goods  on  your  master’s  account.  This  is  for  the  honour  of  your  master 
and  yourself ; for  he  becomes  a man  of  credit  at  your  recommendation. 

When  your  lady  sends  for  you  up  to  her  chamber,  to  give  you  any 
orders,  be  sure  to  stand  at  the  door,  and  keep  it  open,  fiddling  with  the 
lock  all  the  while  she  is  talking  to  you,  and  keep  the  button  in  your 
hand,  for  fear  you  should  forget  to  shut  the  door  after  you. 

If  your  master  or  lady  happen  once  in  their  lives  to  accuse  you 
wrongfully,  you  are  a happy  servant ; for  you  have  nothing  more  to  do, 
than  for  every  fault  you  commit  while  you  are  in  their  service,  to  put 
them  in  mind  of  that  false  accusation,  and  protest  yourself  equally  in- 
nocent in  the  present  case. 

When  you  have  a mind  to  leave  your  master,  and  are  too  bashful  to 
break  the  matter  for  fear  of  offending  him,  the  best  way  is  to  grow  rude 
and  saucy  of  a sudden,  and  beyond  your  usual  behaviour,  till  he  finds 
it  necessary  to  turn  you  off ; and  when  you  are  gone,  to  revenge  yourself, 
give  him  and  his  lady  such  a character  to  all  your  brother-servants  who 
are  out  of  place,  that  none  will  venture  to  offer  their  service. 

Some  nice  ladies,  who  are  afraid  of  catching  cold,  having  observed 
that  the  maids  and  fellows  below  stairs  often  forget  to  shut  the  door 
after  them,  as  they  come  in  or  go  out  into  the  back  yards,  have  con- 
trived that  a pulley  and  a rope,  with  a large  piece  of  lead  at  the  end, 
should  be  so  fixed  as  to  make  the  door  shut  of  itself,  and  require  a 
strong  hand  to  open  it ; which  is  an  immense  toil  to  servants,  whose 
business  may  force  them  to  go  in  and  out  fifty  times  in  a morning;  but 
ingenuity  can  do  much,  for  prudent  servants  have  found  out  an 
effectual  remedy  against  this  insupportable  grievance,  by  tying  up  the 
pulley  in  such  a manner,  that  the  weight  of  the  lead  shall  have  no  effect; 
however,  as  to  my  own  part,  I would  rather  choose  to  keep  the  door 
always  open,  by  laying  a heavy  stone  at  the  bottom  of  it. 

The  servants’  candlesticks  are  generally  broken,  for  nothing  can  last 
for  ever.  But  you  may  find  out  many  expedients  ; you  may  con- 
veniently stick  your  candle  in  a bottle,  or  with  a lump  of  butter  against 
the  wainscoat,  in  a powder-horn,  or  in  an  old  shoe,  or  in  a cleft  stick, 
or  in  the  barrel  of  a pistol,  or  upon  its  own  grease  on  a table,  in  a coffee- 
cup,  or  a drinking-glass,  a horn  can,  a teapot,  a twisted  napkin,  a 
mustard-pot,  an  ink-horn,  a marrowbone,  a piece  of  dough,  or  you  may 
cut  a hole  in  the  loaf,  and  stick  it  there. 

When  you  invite  the  neighbouring  servants  to  junket  with  you  at 
home  in  an  evening,  teach  them  a peculiar  way  of  tapping  or  scraping 
at  the  kitchen-window,  which  you  may  hear,  but  not  your  master  or 
lady ; whom  you  must  take  care  not  to  disturb  or  frighten  at  such 
unseasonable  hours. 

Lay  all  faults  upon  a lapdog,  or  favourite  cat,  a monkey,  a parrot,  a 
child,  or  on  the  servant  who  was  last  turned  off : by  this  rule  you  will 
excuse  yourself,  do  no  hurt  to  anybody  else,  and  save  your  master  or 
lady  from  the  trouble  and  vexation  of  chiding. 


DEAF  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


m 

When  you  want  proper  instruments  for  any  work  you  are  about,  use 
all  expedients  you  can  invent,  rather  than  leave  your  work  undone.  For 
instance,  if  the  poker  be  out  of  the  way  or  broken,  stir  the  fire  with  the 
tongs  ; if  the  tongs  be  not  at  hand,  use  the  muzzle  of  the  bellows,  the 
wrong  end  of  the  fire-shovel,  the  handle  of  the  firebrush,  the  end  of  a 
mop,  or  your  master’s  cane.  If  you  want  paper  to  singe  a fowl,  tear  the 
first  book  you  see  about  the  house.  Wipe  your  shoes,  for  want  of  a 
clout,  with  the  bottom  of  a curtain,  or  a damask  napkin.  Strip  your 
livery  lace  for  garters.  If  the  butler  wants  a jordan,  he  may  use  the 
great  silver  cup. 

There  are  several  ways  of  putting  out  candles,  and  you  ought  to  be 
instructed  in  them  all  : you  may  run  the  candle  end  against  the  wains- 
cot, which  puts  the  snuff  out  immediately  : you  may  lay  it  on  the 
ground,  and  tread  the  snuff  out  with  your  foot : you  may  hold  it  upside 
down,  until  it  is  choked  with  its  own  grease,  or  cram  it  into  the  socket 
of  the  candlestick : you  may  whirl  it  round  in  your  hand  till  it  goes 
out  ; when  you  go  to  bed,  after  you  have  made  water,  you  may  dip  the 
candle  end  into  the  chamber-pot ; you  may  spit  on  your  finger 
and  thumb,  and  pinch  the  snuff  till  it  goes  out.  The  cook  may  run  the 
candle’s  nose  into  the  meal-tub, or  the  groom  into  a vessel  of  oats,  or  a lock 
of  hay,  or  a heap  of  litter  : the  housemaid  may  put  out  her  candle  by 
running  it  against  the  looking-glass,  which  nothing  cleans  so  well  as 
candle-snuff ; but  the  quickest  and  best  of  all  methods  is  to  blow  it  out 
with  your  breath,  which  leaves  the  candle  clear,  and  readier  to  be 
lighted. 

There  is  nothing  so  pernicious  in  a family  as  a tell-tale  ; against 
whom  it  must  be  the  principal  business  of  you  all  to  unite  : whatever 
office  he  serves  in,  take  all  opportunities  to  spoil  the  business  he  is 
about,  and  to  cross  him  in  everything.  For  instance,  if  the  butler  be  a 
tell-tale,  break  his  glasses  whenever  he  leaves  the  pantry-door  open  ; or 
lock  the  cat  or  the  mastiff  in  it,  who  will  do  as  well  : mislay  a fork  or 
spoon  so  as  he  may  never  find  it.  If  it  be  the  cook,  whenever  she  turns 
her  back,  throw  a lump  of  soot,  or  a handful  of  salt  in  the  pot,  or 
smoking  coals  into  the  dripping-pan,  or  daub  the  roast  meat  with  the 
back  of  the  chimney,  or  hide  the  key  of  the  jack.  If  a footman  be  sus- 
pected, let  the  cook  daub  the  back  of  his  new  livery,  or  when  he  is 
going  up  with  a dish  of  soup,  let  her  follow  him  softly  with  a ladle  full, 
and  dribble  it  all  the  way  up  stairs  to  the  dining-room,  and  then  let  the 
housemaid  make  such  a noise,  that  her  lady  may  hear  it.  The  waiting 
maid  is  very  likely  to  be  guilty  of  this  fault,  in  hopes  to  ingratiate  her- 
self ; in  this  case  the  laundress  must  be  sure  to  tear  her  smocks  in  the 
washing,  and  yet  wash  them  but  half  ; and  when  she  complains,  tell  all 
the  house  that  she  sweats  so  much,  and  her  flesh  is  so  nasty,  that  she 
fouls  a smock  more  in  one  hour  than  the  kitchen-maid  does  in  a 
week. 


DIRECTIONS  TO  SERVANTS* 


*95 


CHAPTER  L 

DIRECTIONS  TO  THE  BUTLER# 

IN  my  Directions  to  Servants  I find  from  my  long  observation  that 
you  butlers  are  the  principal  persons  concerned. 

Your  business  being  of  the  greatest  variety,  and  requiring  the 
greatest  exactness,  I shall,  as  well  as  I can  recollect,  run  through  the 
several  branches  of  your  office,  and  order  my  instructions  accordingly. 

In  waiting  at  the  sideboard  take  all  possible  care  to  save  your  own 
trouble  and  your  master’s  drinking-glasses,  therefore,  first,  since  those 
who  dine  at  the  same  table  are  supposed  to  be  friends,  let  them  all 
drink  out  of  the  same  glass  without  washing,  which  will  save  you  much 
pains,  as  well  as  the  hazard  of  breaking  them.  Give  no  person  any 
liquor  until  he  has  called  for  it  thrice  at  least,  by  which  means,  some 
out  of  modesty,  and  others  out  of  forgetfulness,  will  call  the  seldom er, 
and  thus  your  master’s  liquor  be  saved. 

If  any  one  desires  a glass  of  bottled  ale,  first  shake  the  bottle  to  see 
whether  anything  be  in  it,  then  taste  it  to  see  what  liquor  it  is,  that 
you  may  not  be  mistaken,  and  lastly  wipe  the  mouth  of  the  bottle  with 
the  palm  of  your  hand  to  show  your  cleanliness. 

Be  more  careful  to  have  the  cork  in  the  belly  of  the  bottle  than  in 
the  mouth  ; and  if  the  cork  be  musty,  or  white  friars  in  your  liquor, 
your  master  will  save  the  more. 

If  an  humble  companion,  a chaplain,  a tutor,  or  a dependent  cousin, 
happen  to  be  at  table,  whom  you  find  to  be  little  regarded  by  the 
master  and  the  company  (which  nobody  is  readier  to  discover  and  ob- 
serve than  we  servants),  it  must  be  the  business  of  you  and  the  footman 
to  follow  the  example  of  your  betters,  by  treating  him  many  degrees 
worse  than  any  of  the  rest,  and  you  cannot  please  your  master  better, 
or  at  least  your  lady. 

If  any  one  calls  for' small  beer  toward  the  end  of  dinner,  do  not 
give  yourself  the  pains  of  going  down  to  the  cellar,  but  gather  the 
droppings  and  leavings  out  of  the  several  cups  and  glasses  and  salvers 
into  one,  but  turn  your  back  to  the  company  for  fear  of  being  observed. 
On  the  contrary,  when  any  one  calls  for  ale  toward  the  end  of  dinner, 
fill  the  largest  tankard  cup  topful,  by  which  you  will  have  the  greatest 
part  left  to  oblige  your  fellow  servants,  without  the  sin  of  stealing  from 
your  master. 

There  is  likewise  a perquisite  full  as  honest,  by  which  you  have  a 
chance  of  getting  every  day  the  best  part  of  a bottle  of  wine  for  your- 
self ; for  you  are  to  suppose  that  gentlefolks  will  not  care  for  the  re- 
mainder of  a bottle,  therefore  always  set  a fresh  one  before  them  after 
dinner,  although  there  has  not  been  above  a glass  drunk  out  of  the 
other. 

Take  special  care  that  your  bottles  be  not  musty  before  you  fill  them ; 
in  order  to  which,  blow  strongly  into  the  mouth  of  every  bottle,  and 
then  if  you  smell  nothing  but  your  own  breath,  immediately  fill  it. 

If  you  are  sent  down  in  haste  to  draw  any  drink,  and  find  it  will  not 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


29  6 

run,  do  not  be  at  the  trouble  of  opening  a vent,  but  blow  strongly 
into  the  faucet,  and  you  will  find  it  immediately  pour  into  your  mouth; 
or  take  out  the  vent,  but  do  not  stay  to  put  it  in  again,  for  fear  your 
master  should  want  you. 

If  you  are  curious  to  taste  some  of  your  master’s  choice  bottles, 
empty  as  many  of  them  just  below  the  neck  as  w ill  make  the  quantity 
you  want,  but  then  take  care  to  fill  them  up  again  with  clean  water, 
that  you  may  not  lessen  your  master’s  liquor. 

There  is  an  excellent  invention  found  out  of  late  years  in  the  manage- 
ment of  ale  and  small  beer  at  the  sideboard  ; for  instance,  a gentleman 
calls  for  a glass  of  ale  and  drinks  but  half ; another  calls  for  small 
beer,  you  immediately  turn  out  the  remainder  of  the  ale  into  the  tan- 
kard, and  fill  the  glass  with  small  beer,  and  so  backward  and  forward 
as  long  as  dinner  lasts,  by  which  you  answer  three  ends.  First,  you 
save  yourself  the  trouble  of  washing,  and  consequently  the  danger  of 
breaking  your  glasses  ; secondly,  you  are  sure  not  to  be  mistaken  in 
giving  gentlemen  the  liquor  they  call  for ; and  lastly,  by  this  method 
you  are  certain  that  nothing  is  lost. 

Because  butlers  are  apt  to  forget  to  bring  up  their  ale  and  beer  time 
enough,  be  sure  you  remember  to  have  up  yours  two  hours  before 
dinner,  and  place  them  in  the  sunny  part  of  the  room,  to  let  people  see 
that  you  have  not  been  negligent. 

Some  butlers  have  a way  of  decanting  (as  they  call  it)  bottled  ale, 
by  which  they  lose  a good  part  of  the  bottom  ; let  your  method  be  to 
turn  the  bottle  directly  upside  down,  which  wdll  make  the  liquor  appear 
double  the  quantity ; by  this  means  you  will  be  sure  not  to  lose  one 
drop,  and  the  froth  will  conceal  the  muddiness. 

Clean  your  plate,  wipe  your  knives,  and  rub  the  dirty  tables,  with 
the  napkins  and  tablecloths  used  that  day,  for  it  is  but  one  washing,  j 
and  besides,  it  will  save  you  wearing  out  the  coarse  rubbers,  and  in  ; 
reward  of  such  good  husbandry,  my  judgment  is,  that  you  may 
lawfully  make  use  of  the  finest  damask  napkins  for  nightcaps  for 
yourself. 

When  you  clean  'your  plate,  leave  the  whiting  plainly  to  be  seen 
in  all  the  chinks,  for  fear  your  lady  should  not  believe  you  had  cleaned 

it 

There  is  nothing  wherein  the  skill  of  a butler  more  appears  than  in 
the  management  of  candles,  whereof,  although  some  part  may  fall  to  ; 
the  share  of  the  other  servants,  yet  you,  being  the  principal  person  con- 
cerned, I shall  direct  my  instructions  upon  this  article  to  you  only, 
leaving  to  your  fellow-servants  to  apply  them  upon  occasion. 

First,  to  avoid  burning  daylight,  and  to  save  your  master’s  candles, 
never  bring  them  up  till  half  an  hour  after  it  be  dark,  although  they  are 
called  for  ever  so  often. 

Let  your  sockets  be  full  of  grease  to  the  brim,  with  the  old  snuff  at 
the  top,  and  then  stick  on  your  fresh  candles.  It  is  true  this  may  en- 
danger their  falling,  but  the  candles  will  appear  so  much  the  longer  and 
handsomer  before  company.  At  other  times,  for  variety,  put  your 
candles  loose  in  the  sockets,  to  show  they  are  clean  to  the  bottom. 

When  your  candle  is  too  big  for  the  socket,  melt  it  to  the  right  size  in 
the  fire,  and  to  hide  the  smoke,  wrap  it  in  paper  half  way  up. 


DIRECTIONS  TO  SERVANTS. 


«97 


You  cannot  but  observe  of  late  years  the  great  extravagance  among 
the  gentry  upon  the  article  of  candies,  which  a good  butler  ought  by 
all  means  to  discourage,  both  to  save  his  own  pains  and  his  master’s 
money  ; this  may  be  contrived  several  ways,  especially  when  you  are 
ordered  to  put  candles  into  the  sconces. 

Sconces  are  great  wasters  of  candles,  and  you,  who  are  always  to 
consider  the  advantage  of  your  master,  should  do  your  utmost  to  dis- 
courage them  ; therefore  your  business  must  be  to  press  the  candle 
with  both  your  hands  into  the  socket,  so  as  to  make  it  lean  in  such  a 
manner  that  the  grease  may  drop  all  upon  the  floor,  if  some  lady’s 
head-dress  or  gentleman’s  periwig  be  not  ready  to  intercept  it  ; you 
may  likewise  stick  the  candle  so  loose  that  it  will  fall  upon  the  glass 
of  the  sconce,  and  break  it  into  shatters  ; this  will  save  your  master 
many  a fair  penny  in  the  year,  both  in  candles  and  to  the  glass- 
man,  and  yourself  much  labour,  for  the  sconces  spoiled  cannot  be 
used. 

Never  let  the  candles  burn  too  low,  but  give  them  as  a lawful  per- 
quisite to  your  friend  the  cook,  to  increase  her  kitchen  stuff ; or  if  this 
be  not  allowed  in  your  house,  give  them  in  charity  to  the  poor  neigh- 
bours who  often  run  on  your  errands. 

When  you  cut  bread  for  a toast,  do  not  stand  idly  watching  it,  but 
Jay  it  on  the  coals,  and  mind  your  other  business  ; then  come  back,  and 
if  you  find  it  toasted  quite  through,  scrape  off  the  burnt  side  and  serve 
it  up. 

When  you  dress  up  your  sideboard,  set  the  best  glasses  as  near  the 
edge  of  the  table  as  you  can,  by  which  means  they  will  cast  a double 
lustre,  and  make  a much  finer  figure,  and  the  consequence  can  be  at 
most  but  the  breaking  half-a-dozen,  which  is  a trifle  in  your  master’s 
pocket. 

Wash  the  glasses  with  your  own  water  to  save  your  master’s  salt. 

When  any  salt  is  spilt  on  the  table,  do  not  let  it  be  lost,  but  when 
dinner  is  done  fold  up  the  tablecloth  with  the  salt  in  it,  then  shake  the 
salt  out  into  the  saltseller  to  serve  next  day  ; but  the  shortest  and  surest 
way  is,  when  you  remove  the  cloth,  to  wrap  the  knives,  forks,  spoons, 
saltcellars,  broken  bread,  and  scraps  of  meat  all  together,  in  the  table- 
cloth, by  which  you  will  be  sure  to  lose  nothing,  unless  you  think  it 
better  to  shake  them  out  of  the  window,  among  the  beggars,  that  they 
may  with  more  convenience  eat  the  scraps. 

Leave  the  dregs  of  wine,  ale,  and  other  liquors  in  the  bottles  ; to 
rinse  them  is  but  loss  of  time,  since  all  will  be  done  at  once  in  a general 
washing ; and  you  will  have  a better  excuse  for  breaking  them. 

If  your  master  has  many  musty,  or  very  foul  and  crusted  bottles,  I 
advise  you,  in  point  of  conscience,  that  those  may  be  the  first  you 
truck  at  the  next  alehouse  for  ale  or  brandy. 

When  a message  is  sent  to  your  master,  be  kind  to  your  brother 
servant  who  brings  it ; give  him  the  best  liquor  in  your  keeping,  for 
your  master’s  honour ; and  at  the  first  opportunity  he  will  do  the  same 
to  you. 

After  supper,  if  it  be  dark,  carry  your  plate  and  china  together  in 
the  same  basket  to  save  candle-light,  for  you  know  your  pantry  well 
enough  to  put  them  up  in  the  dark. 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


298 

When  company  is  expected  at  dinner,  or  in  the  evenings,  be  sure  to 
be  abroad,  that  nothing  may  be  got  which  is  under  your  key  ; by  which 
your  master  will  save  his  liquor,  and  not  wear  out  his  plate. 

I come  now  to  a most  important  part  of  your  economy,  the  bottling 
of  a hogshead  of  wine,  wherein  I recommend  three  virtues,  cleanli- 
ness, frugality,  and  brotherly  love.  Let  your  corks  be  of  the  longest 
kind  you  can  get ; which  will  save  some  wine  in  the  neck  of  every 
bottle:  as  to  your  bottles,  choose  the  smallest  you  can  find,  which  will 
increase  the  number  of  dozens,  and  please  your  master  ; for  a bottle  of 
wine  is  always  a bottle  of  wine,  whether  it  hold  more  or  less  ; and  ii 
your  master  has  his  proper  number  of  dozens,  he  cannot  complain. 

Every  bottle  must  be  first  rinsed  with  wine,  for  fear  of  any  moisture 
left  in  the  washing  : some,  out  of  a mistaken  thrift,  will  rinse  a dozen 
bottles  with  the  same  wine  ; but  I would  advise  you,  for  more  caution, 
to  change  the  wine  at  every  second  bottle  ; a gill  may  be  enough. 
Have  bottles  ready  by  to  save  it  ; and  it  will  be  a good  perquisite 
either  to  sell,  or  drink  with  the  cook. 

Never  draw  your  hogshead  too  low  ; nor  tilt  it,  for  fear  of  disturbing 
your  liquor.  When  it  begins  to  run  slow,  and  before  the  wine  grows 
.cloudy,  shake  the  hogshead,  and  carry  a glass  of  it  to  your  master ; 
who  will  praise  you  for  your  discretion,  and  give  you  all  the  rest  as  a 
perquisite  to  your  place:  you  may  tilt  the  hogshead  the  next  day,  and 
in  a fortnight  get  a dozen  or  two  of  good  clear  wine  to  dispose  of  as 
you  please. 

In  bottling  wine,  fill  your  mouth  full  of  corks,  together  with  a large 
plug  of  tobacco,  which  will  give  to  the  wine  the  true  taste  of  the  weed,  , 
so  delightful  to  all  good  judges  in  drinking. 

When  you  are  ordered  to  decant  a suspicious  bottle,  if  a pint  be 
out,  give  your  hand  a dexterous  shake,  and  show  it  in  a glass,  that  it 
begins  to  be  muddy. 

When  a hogshead  of  wine  or  any  other  liquor  is  to  be  bottled  off 
wash  your  bottles  immediately  before  you  begin  ; but,  be  sure  not  to 
drain  them,  by  which  good  management  your  master  will  save  some 
gallons  in  every  hogshead. 

This  is  the  time  that  in  honour  to  your  master  you  ought  to  show 
your  kindness  to  your  fellow-servants,  and  especially  to  the  cook  ; for 
what  signifies  a few  flagons  out  of  a whole  hogshead  ? But  make 
them  be  drunk  in  your  presence,  for  fear  they  should  be  given  to  other 
folks,  and  so  your  master  be  wronged  : but  advise  them,  if  they 
get  drunk,  to  go  to  bed,  and  leave  word  they  are  sick  : which  last 
caution  I would  have  all  the  servants  observe,  both  male  and 
female. 

If  your  master  finds  the  hogshead  to  fall  short  of  his  expectation, 
what  is  plainer  than  that  the  vessel  leaked;  that  the  wine-cooper  had 
not  filled  it  in  proper  time  ; that  the  merchant  cheated  him  with  a 
hogshead  below  the  common  measure  ? 

When  you  are  to  get  water  on  for  tea  after  dinner  (which  in  many 
families  is  part  of  your  office),  to  save  firing  and  to  make  more  haste, 
pour  it  into  the  teakettle  from  the  pot  where  cabbage  or  fish  have  been 
boiling,  which  will  make  it  much  wholesomer,  by  curing  the  acid  and 
corroding  quality  of  the  tea. 


DIRECTIONS  TO  SERVANTS. 


299 


Be  saving  of  your  candles,  and  let  those  in  the  sconces  of  the  hall, 
the  stairs,  and  in  the  lantern  burn  down  into  the  sockets,  until  they  go 
out  of  themselves  ; for  which  your  master  and  lady  will  commend  your 
thriftiness,  as  soon  as  they  shall  smell  the  snuff. 

If  a gentleman  leaves  a snuff-box  or  picktooth-case  on  the  table  after 
dinner,  and  goes  away,  look  upon  it  as  part  of  your  vails,  for  so  it  is 
allowed  by  servants,  and  you  do  no  wrong  to  your  master  or  lady. 

If  you  serve  a country  squire,  when  gentlemen  and  ladies  come  to 
dine  at  your  house,  never  fail  to  make  their  servants  drunk,  and  especi- 
ally the  coachman,  for  the  honour  of  your  master ; to  which  in  all  your 
actions  you  must  have  a special  regard,  as  being  the  best  judge  : for 
the  honour  of  every  family  is  deposited  in  the  hands  of  the  cook,  the 
butler,  and  the  groom,  as  I shall  hereafter  demonstrate. 

Snuff  the  candles  at  supper  as  they  stand  on  the  table,  which  is 
much  the  securest  way ; because,  if  the  burning  snuff  happens  to  get 
out  of  the  snuffers,  you  have  a chance  that  it  may  fall  into  a dish  ot 
soup,  sack-posset,  rice-milk,  or  the  like,  where  it  will  be  immediately  ex- 
tinguished with  very  little  stink. 

When  you  have  snuffed  the  candle,  always  leave  the  snuffers  open, 
for  the  snuff  will  of  itself  burn  away  to  ashes,  and  cannot  fall  out  and 
dirty  the  table  when  you  snuff  the  candles  again. 

That  the  salt  may  lie  smooth  in  the  salt-cellar,  press  it  down  with 
your  moist  palm. 

When  a gentleman  is  going  away  after  dining  with  your  master,  be 
sure  to  stand  full  in  view,  and  follow  him  to  the  door,  and  as  you  have 
opportunity,  look  full  in  his  face;  perhaps  it  may  bring  you  a shilling ; 
but  if  the  gentleman  has  lain  there  a night,  get  the  cook,  the  house- 
maid, the  stableman,  the  scullion,  and  gardener  to  accompany  you, 
and  to  stand  in  his  way  to  the  hall  in  a line  on  each  side  of  him  : if 
the  gentleman  performs  handsomely,  it  will  do  him  honour,  and  cost 
your  master  nothing. 

You  need  not  wipe  your  knife  to  cut  bread  for  the  table,  because  in 
cutting  a slice  or  two  it  will  wipe  itself. 

Put  your  finger  into  every  bottle  to  feel  whether  it  be  full,  which  is 
the  surest  way,  for  feeling  has  no  fellow. 

When  you  go  down  to  the  cellar  to  draw  ale  or  small  beer,  take  care 
to  observe  directly  the  following  method:  hold  the  vessel  between  the 
finger  and  thumb  of  your  right  hand,  with  the  palm  upwards  ; then 
hold  the  candle  between  your  fingers,  but  a little  leaning  toward  the 
mouth  of  the  vessel ; then  take  out  the  spigot  with  your  left  hand,  and 
clap  the  point  of  it  in  your  mouth,  and  keep  your  left  hand  to  watch 
accidents  ; when  the  vessel  is  full,  withdraw  the  spigot  from  your  mouth, 
well  wetted  with  spittle,  which,  being  of  a slimy  consistence,  will  make 
it  stick  faster  in  the  faucet:  if  any  tallow  drops  into  the  vessel  you  may 
easily  (if  you  think  of  it)  remove  it  with  a spoon. 

Always  lock  up  a cat  in  the  closet  where  you  keep  your  china  plates, 
for  fear  the  mice  mav  steal  in  and  break  them. 

A good  butler  always  breaks  off  the  point  of  his  bottle-screw  in  two 
days,  by  trying  which  is  hardest,  the  point  of  the  screw,  or  the  neck 
©f  the  bottle:  in  this  case,  to  supply  the  want  of  a screw,  after  the 
stump  has  torn  the  cork  in  pieces,  make  use  of  3 silver  fork,  and 


3°° 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


when  the  scraps  of  the  cork  are  almost  drawn  out,  flirt  the  mouth  of 
the  bottle  into  the  cistern  three  or  four  times  until  you  quite  clear  it. 

If  a gentleman  dines  often  with  your  master,  and  gives  you  nothing 
when  he  goes  away,  you  may  use  several  methods  to  show  him  some 
marks  of  your  displeasure,  and  quicken  his  memory  ; if  he  calls  for 
bread  or  drink,  you  may  pretend  not  to  hear,  or  send  it  to  another  who 
called  after  him  ; if  he  ask  for  wine,  let  him  stay  awhile,  and  then  send 
him  small  beer  ; give  him  always  foul  glasses  ; send  him  a spoon  when 
he  wants  a knife  ; wink  at  the  footman  to  leave  him  without  a plate  : 
by  these,  and  the  like  expedients,  you  may  probably  be  a better  man 
by  half  a crown  before  he  leaves  the  house,  provided  you  watch  an  op- 
portunity of  standing  by,  when  he  is  going. 

If  your  lady  loves  play,  your  fortune  is  fixed  for  ever;  moderate 
gaming  will  be  a perquisite  of  ten  shillings  a week ; and  in  such  a 
family  I would  rather  choose  to  be  butler  than  chaplain,  or  even  rather 
than  be  steward  ; it  is  all  ready  money,  and  got  without  labour,  unless 
your  lady  happens  to  be  one  of  those,  who  either  obliges  you  to  find 
wax  candles,  or  forces  you  to  divide  it  with  some  favourite  servants  ; 
but,  at  worst,  the  old  cards  are  your  own  ; and  if  the  gamesters  play 
deep  or  grow  peevish,  they  will  change  the  cards  so  often,  that  the  old 
ones  will  be  a considerable  advantage  by  selling  them  to  coffee-houses, 
or  families  who  love  play,  but  cannot  afford  better  than  cards  at  second 
hand:  when  you  attend  at  the  service,  be  sure  to  leave  new  packs  within 
the  reach  of  the  gamesters  ; which  those  who  have  ill  luck  will  readily 
take  to  change  their  fortune  ; and  now  and  then  an  old  pack  mingled 
with  the  rest  will  easily  pass.  Be  sure  to  be  very  officious  on  play 
nights,  and  ready  with  your  candles  to  light  out  your  company,  and 
have  salvers  of  wine  at  hand  to  give  them  when  they  call ; but  manage 
so  with  the  cook,  that  there  be  no  supper,  because  it  will  be  so  much 
saved  in  your  master’s  family  ; and  because  a supper  will  considerably 
lessen  your  gains. 

Next  to  cards  there  is  nothing  so  profitable  to  you  as  bottles,  in 
which  perquisite  you  have  no  competitors  except  the  footmen,  who  are 
apt  to  steal  and  vend  them  for  pots  of  beer ; but  you  are  bound  to 
prevent  any  such  abuses  in  your  master’s  family  : the  footmen  are  not 
to  answer  for  what  are  broke  at  a general  bottling,  and  those  may  be  as 
many  as  your  discretion  will  make  them. 

The  profit  of  glasses  is  so  very  inconsiderable  that  it  is  hardly  worth 
mentioning ; it  consists  only  in  a small  present  made  by  the  glassman,'! 
and  about  four  shillings  in  the  pound  added  to  the  prices  for  your 
trouble  and  skill  in  choosing  them.  If  your  master  has  a large  stock 
of  glasses,  and  you  or  your  fellow-servants  happen  to  break  any  of  them 
without  your  master’s  knowledge,  keep  it  a secret  till  there  are  not 
enough  left  to  serve  the  table,  then  tell  your  master  that  the  glasses  are 
gone  ; this  will  be  but  one  vexation  to  him,  which  is  much  better  than 
fretting  once  or  twice  a week  ; and  it  is  the  office  of  a good  servant  to 
discompose  his  master  and  his  lady  as  seldom  as  he  can ; and  here  the 
rat  and  dog  will  be  of  great  use  to  take  the  blame  from  you.  Note, 
that  bottles  missing  are  supposed  to  be  half  stolen  by  stragglers  and 
other  servants  ; and  the  other  half  broken  by  accident,  and  a general 
washing* 


DIRECTIONS  TO  SERVANTS. 


3oi 


Whet  the  backs  of  your  knives  until  they  are  as  sharp  as  the  edge  ; 
Which  will  have  this  advantage  that,  when  gentlemen  find  them  blunt 
on  one  side,  they  may  try  the  other  ; and  to  show  you  spare  no  pains 
in  sharpening  the  knives,  whet  them  so  long  till  you  wear  out  a good 
part  of  the  iron,  and  even  the  bottom  of  the  silver  handle.  This  does 
credit  to  your  master,  for  it  shows  good  housekeeping,  and  the  gold- 
smith may  one  day  make  you  a present. 

Your  lady,  when  she  finds  the  small  beer  or  ale  dead,  will  blame  you 
for  not  remembering  to  put  the  peg  into  the  vent-hole.  This  is  a great 
mistake,  nothing  being  plainer  than  that  the  peg  keeps  the  air  in  the 
vessel,  which  spoils  the  drink,  and  therefore  ought  to  be  let  out ; but  if 
she  insists  upon  it,  to  prevent  the  trouble  of  pulling  out  the  vent,  and 
putting  it  in  a dozen  times  a day,  which  is  not  to  be  borne  by  a good 
servant,  leave  the  spigot  half  out  at  night,  and  you  will  find,  with  only 
the  loss  of  two  or  three  quarts  of  liquor,  the  vessel  will  run  freely. 

When  you  prepare  your  candles,  wrap  them  up  in  a piece  of  brown 
paper,  and  so  stick  them  into  the  socket ; let  the  paper  come  half  way 
Up  the  candle,  which  looks  handsome,  if  anybody  should  come  io» 

Do  all  in  the  dark  to  save  your  master's  candies, 

CHAPTER  II. 

DIRECTIONS  TO  THE  COOK.  « 

ALTHOUGH  I am  not  ignorant  that  it  has  been  a long  time  since 
the  custom  began  among  the  people  of  quality  to  keep  men  cooks, 
and  generally  of  the  French  nation,  yet,  because  my  treatise  is  chiefly 
calculated  for  the  general  run  of  knights,  squires,  and  gentlemen,  both 
in  town  and  country,  I shall  therefore  apply  to  you,  Mrs.  Cook,  as  a 
woman  : however,  a great  part  of  what  I intend  may  serve  for  either 
Sex  ; and  your  part  naturally  follows  the  former,  because  the  butler  and 
you  are  joined  in  interest ; your  vails  are  generally  equal,  and  paid 
when  others  are  disappointed  ; you  can  junket  together  at  nights  upon 
your  own  prog  when  the  rest  of  the  house  are  abed  ; and  have  it  in 
your  power  to  make  every  fellow-servant  your  friend  ; you  can  give  a 
good  bit  or  a good  sup  to  the  little  masters  and  misses,  and  gain  then 
affections  : a quarrel  between  you  is  very  dangerous  to  you  both,  and 
will  probably  end  in  one  of  you  being  turned  off ; in  which  fatal  case, 
perhaps,  it  will  not  be  so  easy  in  some  time  to  cotton  with  another. 
And  now,  Mrs.  Cook,  I proceed  to  give  you  my  instructions,  which  I 
desire  you  will  get  some  fellow-servant  in  the  family  to  read  to  you 
constantly  one  night  in  every  week  when  you  are  going  to  bed,  whether 
you  serve  in  town  or  country  ; for  my  lessons  shall  be  fitted  for  both. 

If  your  lady  forgets  at  supper  that  there  is  any  cold  meat  in  the 
house,  do  not  you  be  so  officious  as  to  put  her  in  mind  ; it  is  plain  she 
did  not  want  it ; and  if  she  recollects  it  the  next  day,  say  she  gave  you 
no  orders  and  it  is  spent ; therefore,  for  fear  of  telling  a lie,  dispose  of 
it  with  the  butler,  or  any  other  crony,  before  you  go  to  bed. 

Never  send  up  a leg  of  a fowl  at  supper,  while  there  is  a cat  or  a dog 
in  the  house  that  can  be  accused  for  running  away  with  it;  but  if  there 
happen  to  be  neither,  you  must  lay  it  upon  the  rats  or  a strange  grey- 
hound. 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


302 

It  is  ill  housewifery  to  foul  your  kitchen  rubbers  with  wiping  the 
bottoms  of  the  dishes  you  send  up,  since  the  tablecloth  will  do  as  well, 
and  is  changed  every  meal. 

Never  clean  your  spits  after  they  have  been  used ; for  the  grease  left 
upon  them  by  meat  is  the  best  thing  to  preserve  them  from  rust  ; and 
when  you  make  use  of  them  again  the  same  grease  will  keep  the  inside 
of  the  meat  moist. 

If  you  live  in  a rich  family,  roasting  and  boiling  are  below  the  dignity 
of  your  office,  and  which  it  becomes  you  to  be  ignorant  of ; therefore 
leave  that  work  wholly  to  the  kitchen-wench,  for  fear  of  disgracing  the 
family  you  live  in. 

If  you  are  employed  in  marketing,  buy  your  meat  as  cheap  as  you 
can  ; but  when  you  bring  in  your  accounts,  be  tender  of  your  master’s 
honour,  and  set  down  the  highest  rate  ; which,  besides,  is  but  justice  ; 
for  nobody  can  afford  to  sell  at  the  same  rate  that  he  buys,  and  I am 
confident  that  you  may  charge  safely  ; swear  that  you  gave  no  more 
than  what  the  butcher  and  poulterer  asked.  If  your  lady  orders  you  to 
set  up  a piece  of  meat  for  supper,  you  are  not  to  understand  that  you 
must  set  it  up  all,  therefore  you  may  give  half  to  yourself  and  the  butler. 

Good  cooks  cannot  abide  what  they  justly  call  fiddling  work,  where 
abundance  of  time  is  spent  and  little  done  : such,  for  instance,  is  the 
dressing  small  birds,  requiring  a world  of  cookery  and  clutter,  and  a 
second  or  third  ^>it,  which,  by  the  way,  is  absolutely  needless  ; for  it 
will  be  a very  ridiculous  thing  indeed  if  a spit,  which  is  strong  enough 
to  turn  a sirloin  of  beef  should  not  be  able  to  turn  a lark  ; however,  if 
your  lady  be  nice,  and  is  afraid  that  a large  spit  will  tear  them,  place 
them  handsomely  in  the  dripping  pan,  where  the  fat  of  roasted  mutton 
or  beef  falling  on  the  birds  will  serve  to  baste  them,  and  so  save  both 
time  and  butter  : for  what  cook  of  any  spirit  would  lose  her  time  in  . 
picking  larks,  wheatears,  and  other  small  birds?  Therefore,  if  you 
cannot  get  the  maids  or  the  young  misses  to  assist  you,  e’en  make 
short  work,  and  either  singe  or  flay  them  ; there  is  no  great  loss  in  the 
skins,  and  the  flesh  is  just  the  same. 

If  you  are  employed  in  marketing,  do  not  accept  a treat  of  a beef 
steak  and  a pot  of  ale  from  the  butcher,  which  I think  in  conscience  is 
no  better  than  wronging  your  master ; but  do  you  always  take  that 
perquisite  in  money,  if  you  do  not  go  in  trust ; or  in  poundage  when  you 
pay  the  bills.  . | 

The  kitchen  bellows  being  usually  out  of  order  with  stirring  the  fire 
with  the  muzzle  to  save  the  tongs  and  poker,  borrow  the  bellows  out  of 
your  lady’s  bedchamber,  which,  being  least  used,  are  commonly  the  best 
in  the  house  ; and  if  you  happen  to  damage  or  grease  them,  you  have  a 
chance  to  have  them  left  entirely  for  your  own  use. 

Let  a blackguard  boy  be  always  about  the  house  to  send  on  your 
errands,  and  go  to  market  for  you  on  rainy  days,  which  will  save  your 
clothes,  and  make  you  appear  more  creditable  to  your  mistress. 

If  your  mistress  allows  you  the  kitchen-stuff,  in  return  of  her  genero- 
sity take  care  to  boil  and  roast  your  meat  sufficiently.  If  she  keeps  it 
for  her  own  profit  do  her  justice ; and  rather  than  let  a good  file  be 
wanting  enliven  it  now  and  then  with  the  dripping  and  the  buttei  that 
happens  to  turn  to  oil. 


DIRECTIONS  TO  SERVANTS. 


J03 

Send  up  your  meat  well  stuck  with  skewers  to  make  it  look  round 
and  plump ; and  an  iron  skewer  rightly  employed  now  and  then  will 
make  it  look  handsomer. 

When  you  roast  a long  joint  of  meat  be  careful  only  about  the 
middle,  and  leave  the  two  extreme  parts,  which  will  serve  another  time, 
and  will  also  save  firing. 

Whan  you  scour  your  plates  and  dishes,  bend  the  brim  inward  so  as 
to  make  them  hold  the  more. 

Always  keep  a large  fire  in  the  kitchen  when  there  is  a small  dinner, 
or  the  family  dines  abroad,  that  the  neighbours,  seeing  the  smoke,  may 
commend  your  master’s  housekeeping ; but  when  much  company  is 
invited,  then  be  as  sparing  as  possible  of  your  coals,  because  a great 
deal  of  the  meat  being  half  raw  will  be  saved,  and  serve  next  day. 

Boil  your  meat  constantly  in  pump  water,  because  you  must  some- 
times want  river  or  pipe  water  ; and  then  your  mistress  observing  your 
meat  of  a different  colour,  will  chide  you  when  you  are  not  in  fault. 

When  you  have  plenty  of  fowl  in  the  larder,  leave  the  door  open  in 
pity  to  the  poor  cat,  if  she  be  a good  mouser. 

If  you  find  it  necessary  to  go  to  market  in  a wet  day,  take  out  your 
mistress’s  riding-hood  and  cloak  to  save  your  clothes. 

Get  three  or  four  charwomen  to  attend  you  constantly  in  the  kitchen, 
whom  you  pay  at  small  charges,  only  with  the  broken  meat,  a few  coals, 
and  all  the  cinders. 

To  keep  troublesome  servants  out  of  the  kitchen,  always  leave  the 
winder  sticking  on  the  jack  to  fall  on  their  heads. 

If  a lump  of  soot  falls  into  the  soup,  and  you  cannot  conveniently 
get  it  out,  stir  it  well,  and  it  will  give  the  soup  a high  French  taste. 

If  you  melt  your  butter  to  oil  be  under  no  concern,  but  send  it  up, 
for  oil  is  a genteeler  sauce  than  butter. 

Scrape  the  bottoms  of  your  pots  and  kettles  with  a silver  spoon,  for 
fear  of  giving  them  a taste  of  copper. 

When  you  send  up  butter  for  sauce,  be  so  thrifty  as  to  let  it  be  half 
water  ; which  is  also  much  wholesomer. 

If  your  butter,  when  it  is  melted,  tastes  of  brass,  it  is  your  master’s 
fault,  who  will  not  allow  you  a silver  saucepan  ; besides,  the  less  of  it 
will  go  further,  and  new  tinning  is  very  chargeable  : if  you  have  a 
silver  saucepan,  and  the  butter  smells  of  smoke,  lay  the  fault  upon  the 
coals. 

Never  make  use  of  a spoon  in  anything  that  you  can  do  with  your 
hands,  for  fear  of  wearing  out  your  master’s  plate. 

When  you  find  that  you  cannot  get  dinner  ready  at  the  time  appointed, 
put  the  clock  back,  and  then  it  may  be  ready  to  a minute 

Let  a red-hot  coal  now  and  then  fall  into  the  dripping-pan,  that  the 
smoke  of  the  dripping  may  ascend,  and  give  the  roast  meat  a high 
taste. 

You  are  to  look  upon  the  kitchen  as  your  dressing-room  ; but  you 
are  not  to  wash  your  hands  till  you  have  gone  to  the  necessary  house, 
and  spitted  your  meat,  trussed  your  fowl,  picked  your  salad,  not  indeed 
till  after  you  have  sent  up  your  second  course  ; for  your  hands  will  be 
ten  times  fouler  with  the  many  things  you  are  forced  to  handle , but 
when  your  work  is  over,  one  washing  will  serve  for  alL 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


3°4 

There  is  but  one  part  of  your  dressing  that  I would  admit  while  the 
victuals  are  boiling,  roasting,  or  stewing ; I mean  the  combing  your 
head,  which  loses  no  time,  because  you  can  stand  over  your  cookery, 
and  watch  it  with  one  hand,  while  you  are  using  your  comb  with  the 
other. 

If  any  of  the  combings  happen  to  be  sent  up  with  the  victuals,  you 
may  safely  lay  the  fault  upon  any  of  the  footmen  that  has  vexed  you  ; 
as  those  gentlemen  are  sometimes  apt  to  be  malicious,  if  you  refuse 
them  a sop  in  the  pan,  or  a slice  from  the  spit,  much  more  when  you 
discharge  a ladleful  of  hot  porridge  on  their  legs,  or  send  them  up  to 
their  masters  with  a dish-clout  pinned  at  their  tails. 

In  roasting  and  boiling,  order  the  kitchen-maid  to  bring  none  but  the 
large  coals,  and  save  the  small  ones  for  the  fires  above  stairs  ; the  first 
are  properest  for  dressing  meat,  and  when  they  are  out,  if  you  happen 
to  miscarry  in  any  dish,  you  may  fairly  lay  the  fault  upon  want  of  coals  ; 
besides,  the  cinder-pickers  will  be  sure  to  speak  ill  of  your  master’s 
housekeeping,  where  they  do  not  find  plenty  of  large  cinders  mixed 
with  fresh  large  coals  : thus  you  may  dress  your  meat  with  credit,  do 
an  act  of  charity,  raise  the  honour  of  your  master,  and  sometimes  get 
share  of  a pot  of  ale  for  your  bounty  to  the  cinder-woman. 

As  soon  as  you  have  sent  up  the  second  course,  you  have  nothing  to 
do  (in  a great  family)  until  supper  : therefore  scour  your  hands  and 
face,  put  on  your  hood  and  scarf,  and  take  your  pleasure  among  your 
cronies  till  nine  or  ten  at  night.  But  dine  first. 

Let  there  be  always  a strict  friendship  between  you  and  the  butler,  for 
it  is  both  your  interests  to  be  united  ; the  butler  often  wants  a comfort-  , 
able  tit -bit,  and  you  much  oftener  a cool  cup  of  good  liquor.  However, 
be  cautious  of  him,  for  he  is  sometimes  an  inconstant  lover,  because 
he  has  great  advantage  to  allure  the  maids  with  a glass  of  sack,  or  . 
white  wine  and  sugar. 

When  you  roast  a breast  of  veal,  remember  your  sweetheart  the 
butler  loves  a sweetbread  ; therefore  set  it  aside  till  evening  ; you  can 
say  the  cat  or  the  dog  has  run  away  with  it,  or  you  found  it  tainted,  or 
fly-blown  ; and  besides  it  looks  as  well  at  the  table  without  it  as  with  it. 

When  you  make  the  company  wait  long  for  dinner,  and  the  meat  be 
overdone,  which  is  generally  the  case,  you  may  lawfully  lay  the  fault 
upon  your  lady,  who  hurried  you  so  to  send  up  dinner,  that  you  was 
forced  to  send  it  up  too  much  boiled  and  roasted. 

If  your  dinner  miscarries  in  almost  every  dish,  how  could  you  help 
it  ? You  were  teased  by  the  footmen  coming  into  the  kitchen  ; and  to 
prove  it  true,  take  occasion  to  be  angry,  and  throw  a ladleful  of  broth 
on  one  or  two  of  their  liveries  ; besides  Friday  and  Chilaermas-day 
are  two  cross  days  in  the  week,  and  it  is  impossible  to  have  good  luck 
on  either  of  them ; thereiore  on  those  two  days  you  have  a lawful 
excuse. 

When  you  are  in  haste  to  take  down  your  dishes,  tip  them  in  such  a 
manner  that  a dozen  will  fall  together  upon  the  dresser,  just  ready  foi 
your  hand. 

To  save  time  and  trouble,  cut  your  apples  and  onions  with  the  same 
knife  ; and  well-bred  gentry  love  the  taste  of  an  onion  in  everything 
they  eat 


directions  to  servants. 


30s 


Lump  three  or  four  pounds  of  butter  together  with  your  hand  then 
dash  it  against  the  wall  just  over  the  dresser,  so  as  to  have  it  ready  to 
pull  by  pieces  as  you  have  occasion  for  it. 

If  you  have  a silver  saucepan  for  the  kitchen  use  let  me  advise  you 
to  batter  it  well,  and  keep  it  always  black  ; this  will  be  for  your  master  s 
honour,  for  it  shows  there  has  been  constant  good  housekeeping,  and 
make  room  for  the  saucepan  by  wriggling  it  on  the  coals,  &c.  - 

In  the  sahie  manner,  if  you  are  allowed  a large  silver  spoon  for  the 
kitchen  let  half  the  bowl  of  it  be  worn  out  with  continual  scraping 
and  stirring,  and  often  say  merrily,  “ This  spoon  owes  my  master  no 

Se  When  you  send  up  a mess  of  broth,  water-gruel,  or  the  like,  to  your 
master  in  a morning,  do  not  forget  with  your  thumb  and  two  fingers  to 
put  salt  on  the  side  of  the  plate  ; for  if  you  make  use  °^a/>’00" 
end  of  a knife,  there  may  be  danger  that  the  salt  would  fall,  and  that 
would  be  a sign  of  ill  luck  ; only  remember  to  lick  your  thumb  and 
fingers  clean  before  you  offer  to  touch  the  salt. 

CHAPTER  III. 

DIRECTIONS  TO  THE  FOOTMAN. 

YOUR  employment, being  of  a mixed  nature,  extends  to  a greatvariety 
of  business,  and  you  stand  in  a fairway  of  being  the  favourite  of  your 
master  and  mistress,  or  of  the  young  masters  and  misses  ; you  are  the 
fine  gentleman  of  the  family,  with  whom  all  the  maids  are  in  love.  You 
are  sometimes  a pattern  of  dress  to  your  master  and  sometimes  he  is  so 
to  you  You  wait  at  table  in  all  companies,  and  consequently  have  the 
opportunity  to  see  and  know  the  world,  and  to  understand  men  and 
manners.  I confess  your  vails  are  but  few,  unless  you  are  sent  with  a 
present,  or  attend  the  tea  in  the  country  ; but  you  are  called  Mr.  m the 
neighbourhood,  and  sometimes  pick  up  a fortune,  perhaps  your  master  s 
daughter,  and  I have  known  many  of  your  tribe  to  have  good  com- 
mands in  the  army.  In  town  you  have  a seat  reserved  for  you  in  the 
playhouse,  where  you  have  an  opportunity  of  becoming  wits  and  critics. 
You  have  no  professed  enemy  except  the  rabble  and  my  lady  s waiting 
woman,  who  are  sometimes  apt  to  call  you  skip-kennel.  I have  a true 
veneration  for  your  office,  because  I had  once  the  honour  to  be  one  of 
your  order,  which  I foolishly  left  by  demeaning  myself  with  accepting 
an  employment  in  the  custom-house.  But  that  you,  my  brethren,  may 
come  to  better  fortunes,  I shall  here  deliver  my  instructions,  which 
have  been  the  fruits  of  much  thought  and  observation,  as  well  as  of  seven 

y C I norder6 to  learn  the  secrets  of  other  families, tell  them  those  of  your 
master’s  ; thus  you  will  grow  a favourite  both  at  home  and  abroad,  and 
be  regarded  as  a person  of  importance.  . , , 

Never  be  seen  in  the  streets  with  a basket  or  bundle  in  your  hands, 
and  carry  nothing  but  what  you  can  hide  in  your  pocket,  otherwise  you 
will  disgrace  your  calling:  to  prevent  which  always  retain  a black- 
guard boy  to  carry  your  loads ; and  if  you  want  farthings,  pay  him 
with  a good  slice  of  bread,  or  scrap  of  meat.. 

Let  a shoe-boy  clean  your  own  shoes  first,  for  fear  of  fouling  the 

20 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS 


306 

chamber,  then  let  him  clean  your  master’s  ; keep  him  on  purpose  for 
that  use,  and  to  run  of  errands,  and  pay  him  with  scraps.  When  you 
are  sent  on  an  errand,  be  sure  to  edge  in  some  business  of  your  own, 
either  to  see  vour  sweetheart,  or  drink  a pot  of  ale  with  some  brother 
servants,  which  is  so  much  time  clear  gained. 

There  is  a great  controversy  about  the  most  convenient  and  genteel 
way  of  holding  your  plate  at  meals  ; some  stick  it  between  the  frame 
and  the  hack  of  the  chair,  which  is  an  excellent  expedient  where  the 
make  of  the  chair,  will  allow  it : others  for  fear  the  plate  should  fall, 
grasp  it  so  firmly,  that  their  thumb  reaches  to  the  middle  of  the  hollow; 
which  however,  if  your  thumb  be  dry,  is  no  secure  method  ; and  there- 
fore in  that  case,  I advise  your  wetting  the  ball  of  it  with  your  tongue  : 
as  to  that  absurd  practice  of  letting  the  back  of  the  plate  lie  leaning  on 
the  hollow  of  your  hand,  which  some  ladies  recommend,  it  is  univer- 
sally exploded,  being  liable  to  so  many  accidents.  Others  again  are  so 
refined,  that  they  hold  their  plate  directly  under  the  left  arm-pit,  which 
is  the  best  situation  for  keeping  it  warm  ; but  this  may  be  dangerous 
in  the  article  of  taking  away  a dish,  where  your  plate  may  happen  to 
fall  upon  some  of  the  company’s  heads.  I confess  myself  to  have  ob- 
jected against  all  these  ways,  which  I have  frequently  tried  ; and  there- 
fore I recommend  a fourth,  which  is  to  stick  your  plate  up  to  the  rim 
inclusive,  in  the  left  side  between  your  waistcoat  and  your  shirt  : this 
will  keep  it  at  least  as  warm  as  under  your  arm-pit,  or  ockster,  as  the 
Scots  call  it  ; this  will  hide  it  so,  as  strangers  may  take  you  for  a better 
servant,  too  good  to  hold  a plate  ; this  will  secure  it  from  falling,  and 
thus  disposed,  it  lies  ready  for  you  to  whip  out  in  a moment  ready  « 
warmed  to  any  guest  within  your  reach,  who  may  want  it.  And 
lastly,  there  is  another  convenience  in  this  method,  that  if  at  any  time 
during  your  waiting  you  find  yourself  going  to  cough  or  sneeze,  you  can  j 
immediately  snatch  out  the  plate,  and  hold  the  hollow  part  close  to  your  , 
nose  or  mouth,  and  thus  prevent  spirting  any  moisture  fri  m either  upon 
the  dishes  or  the  ladies’  dress  ; you  see  gentlemen  and  laaies  observe  a 
Tike  practice  on  such  an  occasion,  with  a hat  or  a handkerchief,  yet  a 
plate  is  less  fouled  and  sooner  cleaned  than  either  of  these  ; for,  when 
your  cough  or  sneeze  is  over,  it  is  but  returning  your  plate  to  the  same 
position,  and  your  shirt  will  clean  it  in  the  passage. 

Take  off  the  largest  dishes,  and  set  them  on,  with  one  hand,  to  show 
the  ladies  your  vigour  and  strength  of  back  ; but  always  do  it  between  | 
two  ladies,  that  if  the  dish  happens  to  slip,  the  soup  or  sauce  may  fall 
on  their  clothes,  and  not  daub  the  floor  , by  this  practice,  two  of  our 
brethren,  my  worthy  friends,  got  considerable  fortunes. 

Learn  all  the  new-fashion  words  and  oaths,  and  songs,  and  scraps  of 
plays  that  your  memory  can  hold.  Thus  you  will  become  the  delight 
of  nine  ladies  in  ten,  and  the  envy  of  ninety-nine  beaux  in  a hundred. 

Take  care,  that  at  certain  periods,  during  dinner  especially,  when 
persons  of  quality  are  there,  you  and  your  brethren  be  all  out  of 
the  room  together  ; by  which  you  will  give  yourself  some  ease  from 
the  fatigue  of  waiting,  and  at  the  same  time  leave  the  company  to  com 
verse  more  freely  without  being  constrained  by  your  presence. 

When  you  are  sent  on  a message,  deliver  it  in  your  own  words,  al- 
though it  be  to  a duke  or  a duchess,  and  not  in  the  words  of  your 


DIRECTIONS  TO  SERVANTS. 


307 


master  or  lady  ; for  how  can  they  understand  what  belongs  to  a 
message  as  well  as  you,  who  have  been  bred  to  the  employment  ? But 
never  deliver  the  answer  till  it  is  called  for,  and  then  adorn  it  with  your 
own  style. 

When  dinner  is  done,  carry  down  a great  heap  of  plates  to  the 
kitchen,  and  when  you  come  to  the  head  of  the  stairs,  trundle  them  all 
before  you  : there  is  not  a more  agreeable  sight  or  sound,  especially 
if  they  be  silver,  beside  the  trouble  they  save  you,  and  there  they  will 
lie  ready  near  the  kitchen-door  for  the  scullion  to  wash  them. 

If  you  are  bringing  up  a joint  of  meat  in  a dish,  and  it  falls  out  of 
your  hand  before  you  get  into  the  dining-room,  with  the  meat  on  the 
ground,  and  the  sauce  spilled,  take  up  the  meat  gently,  wipe  it  with  the 
flap  of  your  coat,  then  put  it  again  into  the  dish,  and  serve  it  up ; and  when 
your  lady  misses  the  sauce,  tell  her  it  is  to  be  sent  up  in  a plate  by  itself. 

When  you  carry  up  a dish  of  meat,  dip  your  fingers  in  the  sauce,  or 
lick  it  with  your  tongue,  to  try  whether  it  be  good,  and  fit  for  your 
master's  table. 

You  are  the  best  judge  of  what  acquaintance  your  lady  ought  to  have, 
and  therefore  if  she  sends  you  on  a message  of  compliment  or  business 
to  a family  you  do  not  like,  deliver  the  answer  in  such  a manner,  as  may 
breed  a quarrel  between  them  not  to  be  reconciled  : or  if  a footman 
comes  from  the  same  family  on  the  like  errand,  turn  the  answer  she 
orders  you  to  deliver,  in  such  a manner,  as  the  other  family  may  take  it 
for  an  affront. 

When  you  are  in  lodgings,  and  no  shoe-boy  to  be  got,  clean  your 
master’s  shoes  With  the  bottom  of  the  curtains,  a clean  napkin,  or  your 
landlady’s  apron. 

Ever  wear  your  hat  in  the  house,  but  when  your  master  calls  ; and  as 
soon  as  you  come  into  his  presence,  pull  it  off  to  show  your  manners. 

Never  clean  your  shoes  on  the  scraper,  but  in  the  entry,  or  at  the  foot 
of  the  stairs,  by  which  you  will  have  the  credit  of  being  at  home  almost 
a minute  sooner,  and  the  scraper  will  last  longer. 

Never  ask  leave  to  go  abroad,  for  then  it  will  be  always  known  that 
you  are  absent,  and  you  will  be  thought  an  idle  rambling  fellow  ; 
whereas  if  you  go  out  and  nobody  observes  you,  you  have  a chance  of 
coming  home  without  being  missed,  and  you  need  not  tell  your  fellow- 
servants  where  you  are  gone,  for  they  will  be  sure  to  say,  you  were  in 
the  house  but  two  minutes  ago,  which  is  the  duty  of  all  servants. 

Snuff  the  candles  with  your  fingers,  and  throw  the  snuff  on  the  floor, 
then  tread  it  out  to  prevent  stinking  : this  method  will  very  much  save 
the  snuffers  from  wearing  out.  You  ought  also  to  snuff  them  close  to 
the  tallow,  which  will  make  them  run,  and  so  increase  the  perquisite  of 
the  cook’s  kitchenstuff ; for  she  is  the  person  you  ought  in  prudence  to 
be  well  with. 

While  grace  is  saying  after  meat,  do  you  and  your  brethren  take  the 
chairs  from  behind  the  company,  so  that  when  they  go  to  sit  again,  they 
may  fall  backward,  which  will  make  them  all  merry ; but  be  you  so 
discreet  as  to  hold  your  laughter  till  you  get  to  the  kitchen,  and  then 
divert  your  fellow-servants. 

When  you  know  your  master  is  most  busy  in  company,  come  in  and 
pretend  to  fettle  about  the  room,  and  if  he  chides,  say  you  thought  he 

20—2 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS , 


308 

rung  the  bell.  This  will  divert  him  from  plodding  on  business  tot 
much,  or  spending  himself  in  talk,  or  racking  his  thoughts,  all  which  are 
hurtful  to  his  constitution. 

If  you  are  ordered  to  break  the  claw  of  a crab,  or  a lobster,  clap  it 
between  the  sides  of  the  dining-room  door  between  the  hinges  : thus 
you  can  do  it  gradually  without  mashing  the  meat,  which  is  often  the 
fate  of  the  street-door  key,  or  the  pestle. 

When  you  take  a foul  plate  from  any  of  the  guests,  and  observe  the 
foul  knife  and  fork  lying  on  the  plate,  show  your  dexterity,  take  up  the 
plate,  and  throw  off  the  knife  and  fork  on  the  table  without  shaking  off 
the  bones  or  broken  meat  that  are  left ; then  the  guest,  who  has  more 
time  than  you,  will  wipe  the  fork  and  knife  already  used. 

When  you  carry  a glass  of  liquor  to  any  person  who  has  called  for  it, 
do  not  bob  him  on  the  shoulder,  or  cry,  sir,  or  madam,  here’s  the  glass; 
that  would  be  unmannerly,  as  if  you  had  a mind  to  force  it  down  one’s 
throat ; but  stand  at  the  person’s  left  shoulder  and  wait  his  time  ; and 
if  he  strikes  it  down  with  his  elbow  by  forgetfulness,  that  was  his  fault 
and  not  yours. 

When  your  mistress  sends  you  for  a hackney  coach  in  a wet  day, 
come  back  in  the  coach  to  save  your  clothes  and  the  trouble  of  walk- 
ing ; it  is  better  the  bottom  of  her  petticoats  should  be  daggled  with 
your  dirty  shoes,  than  your  livery  be  spoiled,  and  yourself  get  a cold. 

There  is  no  indignity  so  great  to  one  of  your  station,  as  that  of 
lighting  your  master  in  the  streets  with  a lantern  ; and  therefore  it  is 
very  honest  policy  to  try  all  arts  how  to  evade  it;  besides,  it  shows 
your  master  to  be  either  poor  or  covetous,  which  are  the  two  worst 
qualities  you  can  meet  with  in  any  service.  When  I was  under  these 
circumstances,  I made  use  of  several  wise  expedients,  which  I here  re- 
commend to  you  : sometimes  I took  a candle  so  long,  that  it  reached 
to  the  very  top  of  the  lantern  and  burned  it ; but  my  master,  after  a 
good  beating,  ordered  me  to  paste  it  over  with  paper.  I then  used  a 
middling  candle,  but  stuck  it  so  loose  in  the  socket,  that  it  leaned  to- 
ward one  .side,  and  burned  a whole  quarter  of  the  horn.  Then  I used 
a bit  of  candle  of  half  an  inch,  which  sunk  in  the  socket,  and  melted 
the  solder,  and  forced  my  master  to  walk  half  the  way  in  the  dark. 
Then  he  made  me  stick  two  inches  of  candle  in  the  place  where  the 
socket  was,  after  which  I pretended  to  stumble,  put  out  the  candle,  and 
broke  all  the  tin  part  to  pieces  : at  last,  he  w as  forced  to  make  use  of  a 
lantern-boy  out  of  perfect  good  husbandry. 

It  is  much  to  be  lamented  that  gentlemen  of  our  employment  have 
but  two  hands  to  carry  plates,  dishes,  bottles,  and  the  like,  out  of  the 
room  At  meals,  and  the  misfortune  is  still  the  greater,  because  one  of 
those  hands  is  required  to  open  the  door,  while  you  are  encumbered 
with  your  load;  therefore  I advise,  that  the  door  may  be  always  left  a- 
jar,  so  as  to  open  it  with  your  foot,  and  then  you  may  carry  plates 
and  dishes  from  your  belly  up  to  your  chin,  beside  a good  quantity  of 
things  under  your  arms,  which  will  save  you  many  a weary  step,  but 
take  care  that  none  of  the  burden  falls  till  you  are  out  of  the  room,  and 
if  possible  out  of  hearing. 

If  you  are  sent  to  the  post-office  with  a letter  in  a cold  rainy  night, 
step  to  the  alehouse  and  take  a pot,  until  it  is  supposed  you  have  done 


DIRECTIONS  TO  SERVANTS.  309 

your  errand,  but  take  the  next  fair  opportunity  to  put  the  letter  in  care- 
fully, as  becomes  an  honest  servant. 

If  you  are  ordered  to  make  coffee  for  the  ladies  after  dinner,  and  the 
pot  happens  to  boil  over,  while  you  are  running  up  for  a spoon  to  stir 
it,  or  thinking  of  something  else,  or  struggling  with  the  chambermaid 
for  a kiss,  wipe  the  sides  of  the  pot  clean  with  a dishclout,  carry  up  your 
coffee  boldly,  and  when  your  lady  finds  it  too  weak,  and  examines  you 
whether  it  has  not  run  over,  deny  the  fact  absolutely  ; swear  you  put  in 
more  coffee  than  ordinary,  that  you  never  stirred  an  inch  from  it,  that 
you  strove  to  make  it  better  than  usual,  because  your  mistress  had 
ladies  with  her,  that  the  servants  in  the  kitchen  will  justify  what  you 
say  : upon  this  you  will  find  that  the  other  ladies  will  pronounce 
your  coffee  to  be  very  good,  and  your  mistress  will  confess  that 
her  mouth  is  out  of  taste,  and  she  will  for  the  future  suspect  herself, 
and  be  more  cautious  in  finding  fault.  This  I would  have  you  do  from 
a principle  of  conscience,  for  coffee  is  very  unwholesome,  and  out  of 
affection  for  your  lady  you  ought  to  give  it  her  as  weak  as  possible, 
and  upon  this  argument,  when  you  have  a mind  to  treat  any  of  the 
maids  with  a dish  of  fresh  coffee,  you  may,  and  ought  to  subtract  a 
part  of  the  powder  on  account  of  your  lady's  health,  and  getting  her 
maid's  good-will. 

If  your  master  sends  you  with  a small  trifling  present  to  one  of  his 
friends,  be  as  careful  of  it  as  you  would  be  of  a diamond  ring  ; there- 
fore, if  the  present  be  only  half-a-dozen  pippins,  send  up  the  servant 
who  received  the  message  to  say,  that  you  were  ordered  to  deliver  them 
with  your  own  hands.  This  will  show  your  exactness  and  care  to  pre- 
vent accidents  or  mistakes,  and  the  gentleman  or  lady  cannot  do  less 
than  give  you  a shilling  ; so  when  your  master  receives  the  like 
present,  teach  the  messenger  who  brings  it  to  do  the  same,  and  give 
your  master  hints  that  may  stir  up  his  generosity,  for  brother  servants 
should  assist  one  another,  since  it  is  all  for  their  master's  honour, 
which  is  the  chief  point  to  be  consulted  by  every  good  servant,  and  ot 
which  he  is  the  best  judge. 

When  you  step  but  a few  doors  off  to  tattle  with  a wench,  or  take  a 
running  pot  of  ale,  or  to  see  a brother  footman  going  to  be  hanged, 
leave  the  street  door  open,  that  you  may  not  be  forced  to  knock,  and 
your  master  discover  you  are  gone  out,  for  a quarter  of  an  hour's  time 
can  do  his  service  no  injury. 

When  you  take  away  the  remaining  pieces  of  bread  after  dinner,  put 
them  on  foul  plates  and  press  them  down  with  other  plates  over  them, 
so  as  nobody  can  touch  them,  and  so  they  will  be  a good  perquisite  to 
the  blackguard  boy  in  ordinary. 

When  you  are  forced  to  clean  your  master's  shoes  with  your  own 
hand,  use  the  edge  of  the  sharpest  case-knife,  and  dry  them  with  the 
toes  an  inch  from  the  fire,  because  wet  shoes  are  dangerous,  aud  be- 
sides, by  these  arts  you  will  get  them  the  sooner  for  yourself. 

In  some  families  the  master  often  sends  to  the  tavern  for  a bottle  of 
wine>  and  you  are  the  messenger  ; I advise  you  therefore  to  take  the 
smallest  bottle  you  can  find  ; but,  however,  make  the  drawer  give  you  a 
tull  quart,  then  you  will  get  a good  sup  for  yourself,  and  your  bottle 
will  be  filled.  As  for  a cork  to  stop  it,  you  need  be  at  no  trouble,  for 
the  thumb  will  do  as  well,  or  a bit  of  dirty  chewed  paper. 


3io 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS . 


In  all  disputes  with  chairmen  and  coachmen  for  demanding  too  much 
when  your  master  sends  you  down  to  chaffer  with  them,  take  pity  of  the 
poor  fellows,  and  tell  your  master  that  they  will  not  take  a farthing  less  ; 
it  is  more  for  your  interest  to  get  share  of  a pot  of  ale,  than  to  save  a 
shilling  for  your  master,  to  whom  it  is  a trifle. 

When  you  attend  your  lady  in  a dark  night,  if  she  uses  her  coach, 
do  not  walk  by  the  coach  side,  so  as  to  tire  and  dirt  yourself,  but  get 
up  into  your  proper  place  behind  it,  and  so  hold  the  flambeau  sloping 
forward  over  the  coach  roof,  and  when  it  wants  snuffing  dash  it  against 
the  corners. 

When  you  leave  your  lady  at  church  on  Sundays,  you  have  two 
hours  safe  to  spend  with  your  companions  at  the  alehouse,  or  over  a 
beefsteak  and  a pot  of  beer  at  home  with  the  cook  and  the  maids,  and 
indeed  poor  servants  have  so  few  opportunities  to  be  happy,  that  they 
ought  not  to  lose  any. 

Never  wear  socks  when  you  wait  at  meals,  on  account  of  your  own 
health,  as  well  as  of  them  who  sit  at  table,  because  as  most  ladies  like  the 
smell  of  young  men’s  toes,  so  it  is  a sovereign  remedy  against  vapours. 

Choose  a service,  if  you  can,  where  your  livery  colours  are  least 
tawdry  and  distinguishing  ; green  and  yellow  immediately  betray  your 
office,  and  so  do  all  kinds  of  lace,  except  silver,  which  will  hardly  fall 
to  your  share,  unless  with  a duke  or  some  prodigal  just  come  to  his 
estate.  The  colours  you  ought  to  wish  for  are  blue,  or  filemot  turned 
up  with  red  ; which,  with  a borrowed  sword,  a borrowed  air,  your 
master's  linen,  and  a natural  and  improved  confidence,  will  give  you 
what  title  you  please  where  you  are  not  known. 

When  you  carry  dishes  or  other  things  out  of  the  room  at  meals,  fill 
both  your  hands  as  full  as  possible,  for  although  you  may  sometimes  spill, 
and  sometimes  let  fall,  yet  you  will  find  at  the  year's  end  you  have 
made  great  dispatch,  and  saved  abundance  of  time. 

If  your  master  or  mistress  happen  to  walk  the  streets,  keep  on  one 
side  and  as  much  on  the  level  with  them  as  you  can,  which  people  ob- 
serving will  either  think  you  do  not  belong  to  them  or  that  you  are  one 
of  their  companions  ; but  if  either  of  them  happen  to  turn  back  and 
speak  to  you,  so  that  you  are  under  the  necessity  to  take  off  your  hat,  use 
but  your  thumb  and  one  finger,  and  scratch  your  head  with  the  rest. 

In  winter  time  light  the  dining-room  fire  but  two  minutes  before  din- 
neris  served  up,  that  your  master  may  see  how  saving  you  are  of  his  coals. 

When  you  are  ordered  to  stir  up  the  fire,  clean  away  the  ashes  from 
betwixt  the  bars  with  the  fire-brush. 

When  you  are  ordered  to  call  a coach,  although  it  be  midnight,  go  no 
further  than  the  door,  for  fear  of  being  out  of  the  way  when  you  are 
wanted,  and  there  stand  bawling  Coach,  Coach,  for  half  an  hour. 

Although  you  gentlemen  in  livery  have  the  misfortune  to  be  treated 
scurvily  by  all  mankind,  yet  you  make  a shift  to  keep  up  your  spirits, 
and  sometimes  arrive  at  considerable  fortunes.  I was  an  intimate 
friend  to  one  of  our  brethren  who  was  footman  to  a court  lady  ; she  had 
an  honourable  employment,  was  sister  to  an  earl,  and  the  widow  of  a 
man  of  quality.  She  observed  something  so  polite  in  my  friend,  the 
gracefulness  with  which  he  tripped  before  her  chair,  and  put  his  hair 
under  his  hat,  that  she  made  him  many  advances,  and  one  day  taking 


• DIRECTIONS  TO  SERVANTS. 


3U 

the  air  m her  coach  with  Tom  behind  it,  the  coachman  mistook  the 
way,  and  stopped  at  a privileged  chapel,  where  the  couple  were 
married,  and  Tom  came  home  in  the  chariot  by  his  lady’s  side  ; but* 
he  unfortunately  taught  her  to  drink  brandy,  of  which  she  died,  after 
having  pawned  all  her  plate  to  purchase  it,  and  Tom  is  now  a journey- 
man maltster. 

Boucher,  the  famous  gamester,  was  another  of  our  fraternity,  and 
when  he  was  worth  ^50,000  he  dunned  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  for 
an  arrear  of  wages  in  his  service  ; and  I could  instance  many  more, 
particularly  another  whose  son  had  one  of  the  chief  employments  at 
court,  and  it  is  sufficient  to  give  you  the  following  advice,  which  is,  to 
be  pert  and  saucy  to  all  mankind,  especially  to  the  chaplain,  the  waiting- 
woman,  and  the  better  sort  of  servants  in  a person  of  quality’s  family, 
and  value  not  now  and  then  a kicking  or  a caning,  for  your  insolence 
will  at  last  turn  to  good  account,  and  from  wearing  a livery,  you  may 
probably  soon  carry  a pair  of  colours. 

When  you  wait  behind  a chair  at  meals,  keep  constantly  wriggling 
the  back  of  the  chair,  that  the  person  behind  whom  you  stand  may 
know  you  are  ready  to  attend  him. 

When  you  carry  a parcel  of  china  plates,  if  they  chance  to  fall,  as  it 
is  a frequent  misfortune,  your  excuse  must  be,  that  a dog  ran  across 
you  in  the  hall ; that  the  chambermaid  accidentally  pushed  the  door 
against  you  ; that  a mop  stood  across  the  entry,  and  tripped  you  up  ; 
that  your  sleeve  stuck  against  the  key,  or  button  of  the  lock. 

When  your  master  and  lady  are  talking  together  in  their  bedchamber, 
and  you  have  some  suspicion  that  you  or  your  fellow-servants  are  con- 
cerned in  what  they  say,  listen  at  the  door  for  the  public  good  of  all 
the  servants,  and  enjoin  all  to  take  proper  measures  for  preventing  any 
innovations  that  may  hurt  the  community. 

Be  not  proud  in  prosperity:  you  have  heard  that  fortune  turns  on  a 
wheel  ; if  you  have  a good  place,  you  are  at  the  top  of  the  wheel. 
Remember  how  often  you  have  been  stripped,  and  kicked  out  of  doors, 
your  wages  all  taken  up  beforehand,  and  spent  in  translated  red-heeled 
shoes,  second-hand  toupees,  and  repaired  laced  ruffles,  beside  a swing- 
ing debt  to  the  alewife  and  the  brandy  shop.  The  neighbouring  tapster, 
who  before  would  beckon  you  over  to  a savoury  bit  of  ox-cheek  in  the 
morning,  give  it  you  gratis,  and  only  score  you  up  for  the  liquor,  imme- 
diately after  you  were  packed  off  in  disgrace,  carried  a petition  to  your 
master  to  be  paid  out  of  your  wages,  whereof  not  a farthing  was  due, 
and  then  pursued  you  with  bailiffs  into  every  blind  cellar.  Remember 
how  soon  you  grew  shabby,  threadbare,  and  out  at  heels  ; was  forced 
to  borrow  an  old  livery  coat,  to  make  your  appearance  while  you  were 
looking  for  a place  ; and  sneak  to  every  house  where  you  had  an  old 
acquaintance  to  steal  you  a scrap  to  keep  life  and  soul  together ; and 
upon  the  whole,  were  in  the  lowest  station  of  human  life,  which,  as  the 
old  ballad  says,  is  that  of  a skip-kennel  turned  out  of  place  ; I say, 
remember  all  this  now  in  your  flourishing  condition.  Pay  your  contri- 
butions duly  to  your  late  brothers  the  cadets,  who  are  left  to  the  wide 
world  ; take  one  of  them  as  your  dependant  to  send  on  your  lady’s 
messages,  when  you  have  a mind  to  go  to  the  alehouse:  slip  him 
out  privately  now  and  then  a slice  of  bread,  and  a bit  of  cold  meat ; 


3i* 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


your  master  can  afford  it  ; and  if  he  be  not  yet  put  upon  establishment 
for  a lodging,  let  him  lie  in  the  stable,  or  the  coach-house,  or  under  the 
back  stairs,  and  recommend  him  to  all  the  gentlemen  who  frequent  your 
house  as  an  excellent  servant. 

To  grow  old  in  the  office  of  a footman,  is  the  highest  of  all  indignities: 
therefore  when  you  find  years  coming  on  without  hopes  of  a place  at 
court,  a command  in  the  army,  a succession  to  the  stewardship,  an  em- 
ployment in  the  revenue  (which  two  last  you  cannot  obtain  without 
reading  and  writing),  or  running  away  with  your  master’s  niece  or 
daughter  ; I directly  advise  you  to  go  upon  the  road,  which  is  the  only 
post  of  honour  left  you:  there  you  will  meet  many  of  your  old  comrades, 
and  live  a short  life  and  a merry  one,  and  make  a figure  at  your  exit, 
wherein  I will  give  you  some  instructions. 

The  last  advice  I give  you  relates  to  your  behaviour  when  you  are 
going  to  be  hanged  ; which  either  for  robbing  your  master,  for  house- 
breaking, or  going  upon  the  highway,  or  in  a drunken  quarrel  by  killing 
the  first  man  you  meet,  may  very  probably  be  your  lot.  and  is  owing  to 
one  of  these  three  qualities  ; either  a love  of  good  fellowship,  a gene- 
rosity of  mind,  or  too  much  vivacity  of  spirits.  Your  good  behaviour 
on  this  article  will  concern  your  whole  community:  deny  the  fact  with 
all  solemnity  of  imprecation:  a hundred  of  your  brethren,  if  they  can 
be  admitted,  wall  attend  about  the  bar,  and  be  ready  upon  demand  to 
give  you  a character  before  the  court:  let  nothing  prevail  on  you  to  con- 
fess, but  the  promise  of  a pardon  for  discovering  your  comrades:  but  I 
suppose  all  this  to  be  in  vain  ; for  if  you  escape  now,  your  fate  will  be 
the  same  another  day.  Get  a speech  to  be  written  by  the  best  author 
of  Newgate:  some  of  your  kind  wenches  will  provide  you  with  a Holland 
shirt  and  vrhite  cap,  crowned  with  a crimson  or  black  ribbon:  take  leave 
cheerfully  of  all  your  friends  in  Newgate:  mount  the  cart  with  courage;  , 
fall  on  your  knees  ; lift  up  your  eyes  ; hold  a book  in  your  hands, 
although  you  cannot  read  a word  ; deny  the  fact  at  the  gallows  ; kiss 
and  forgive  the  hangman,  and  so  farewell : you  shall  be  buried  in  pomp 
at  the  charge  of  the  fraternity:  the  surgeon  shall  not  touch  a limb  ox 
you  ; an'd  your  fame  shall  continue  until  a successor  of  equal  renown 
succeeds  in  your  place. 


YOU  are  strictly  bound  to  nothing,  but  to  step  into  the  box,  and 
carry  your  master  or  lady. 

Let  your  horses  be  so  well  trained,  that  when  you  attend  your  lady  at 
a visit,  they  will  wait  until  you  slip  into  a neighbouring  alehouse  to 
take  a pot  with  a friend. 

When  you  are  in  no  humour  to  drive,  tell  ycur  master  that  the 
horses  have  got  a cold,  that  they  want  shoeing,  that  rain  doesthem 
hurt,  and  roughens  their  coat,  and  rots  the  harness.  This  may  like- 
wise be  applied  to  the  groom. 

If  your  master  dines  with  a country  friend,  drink  as  much  as  you 
can  get ; because  it  is  allowed,  that  a good  coachman  never  drives  so 


CHAPTER  IV. 


DIRECTIONS  TO  THE  COACHMAN* 


DIRECTIONS  TO  SERVANTS. 


3*3 


well  as  when  he  is  drunk  ; and  then  show  your  skill  by  driving  to  an 
inch  by  a precipice  ; and  say  you  never  drive  so  well  as  when  drunk. 

If  you  find  any  gentleman  fond  of  one  of  your  horses,  and  willing 
to  give  you  a consideration  beside  the  price,  persuade  your  master  to 
sell  him,  because  he  is  so  vicious  that  you  cannot  undertake  to  drive 
with  him,  and  is  foundered  into  the  bargain. 

Get  a blackguard  boy  to  watch  your  coach  at  the  church  door  on 
Sundays,  that  you  and  your  brother  coachman  may  be  merry  together 
at  the  alehouse,  while  your  master  and  lady  are  at  church. 

Take  care  that  your  wheels  be  good  ; and  get  a new  set  bought  as 
often  as  you  can,  whether  you  are  allowed  the  old  as  your  perquisite  or 
not:  in  one  case  it  will  turn  to  your  honest  profit ; and  in  the  other,  it 
will  be  a just  punishment  on  your  master’s  covetousness ; and  pro- 
bably, the  coachmaker  will  consider  you  too. 


OU  are  the  servant  upon  whom  the  care  of  your  master’s  honour 


in  all  journeys  entirely  depends  ; your  breast  is  the  sole  reposi- 
tory of  it.  If  he  travels  the  country,  and  lodges  at  inns,  every  dram 
of  brandy,  every  pot  of  ale  extraordinary  that  you  drink,  raises  his 
character  ; and  therefore  his  reputation  ought  to  be  dear  to  you  ; and 
I hope  you  will  not  stint  yourself  in  either.  The  smith,  the  saddler’s 
journeyman,  the  cook  at  the  inn,  the  ostler,  and  the  boot-catcher,  ought 
all  by  your  means  to  partake  of  your  master’s  generosity:  thus  his 
fame  will  reach  from  one  county  to  another  ; and  what  is  a gallon  of 
ale,  or  a pint  of  brandy,  in  his  worship’s  pocket  ? And  although  he 
should  be  in  the  number  of  those  who  value  their  credit  less  than  their 
purse,  yet  your  care  of  the  former  ought  to  be  so  much  the  greater. 
His  horse  wanted  two  removes  ; your  horse  wanted  nails  ; his  allow- 
ance of  oats  and  beans  was  greater  than  the  journey  required  ; a third 
may  be  retrenched,  and  turned  into  ale  or  brandy  ; and  thus  his  honour 
may  be  preserved  by  your  discretion,  and  less  expense  to  him  ; or,  if 
he  travels  with  no  other  servant,  the  matter  is  easily  made  up  in  the 
bill  between  you  and  the  tapster. 

Therefore  as  soon  as  you  alight  at  the  inn,  deliver  your  horses  to  the 
stable-boy,  and  let  him  gallop  them  to  the  next  pond  ; then  call  for  a 
pot  of  ale,  for  it  is  very  tit  that  a Christian  should  drink  before  a beast. 
Leave  your  master  to  the  care  of  the  servants  in  the  inn,  and  your 
horses  to  those  in  the  stable:  thus  both  he  and  they  are  left  in  the  pro- 
perest  hands  ; but  you  are  to  provide  for  yourself ; therefore  get  your 
supper,  drink  freely,  and  go  to  bed  without  troubling  your  master,  who 
is  in  better  hands  than  yours.  The  ostler  is  an  honest  fellow,  and 
loves  horses  in  his  heart  ; and  would  not  wrong  the  dumb  creatures  for 
the  world.  Be  tender  of  your  master,  and  order  the  servants  not  to 
wake  him  too  early.  Get  your  breakfast  before  he  is  up,  that  he  may 
not  wait  for  you  ; make  the  ostler  tell  him  the  roads  are  very  good,  and 
the  miles  short ; but  advise  him  to  stay  a little  longer  till  the  weather 
clears  up,  for  you  are  afraid  there  will  be  rain,  and  he  will  be  time 
enough  aLer  dinner. 


CHAPTER  V. 
DIRECTIONS  TO  THE  GROOM. 


3U 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


Let  your  master  mount  before  you  out  of  good  manners.  As  he  is 
leaving  the  inn  drop  a good  word  in  favour  of  the  ostler,  what  care  he 
took  of  the  cattle  ; and  add  that  you  never  saw  civiller  servants.  Let 
your  master  ride  on  before,  and  do  you  stay  until  your  landlord  has 
given  you  a dram  ; then  gallop  after  him  through  the  town  or  village 
with  full  speed  for  fear  he  should  want  you,  and  to  show  your  horse- 
manship. 

If  you  are  a piece  of  a farrier,  as  every  good  groom  ought  to  be,  get 
sack,  brandy,  or  strong  beer,  to  rub  your  horses'  heels  every  night,  and 
be  not  sparing,  for  (if  any  be  spent)  what  is  left,  you  know  how  to  dispose 
of  it. 

Consider  your  master's  health,  and  rather  than  let  him  take  long 
journeys,  say  the  cattle  are  weak,  and  fallen  in  their  flesh  with  hard 
riding  ; tell  him  of  a very  good  inn  five  miles  nearer  than  he  intended 
to  go  ; or  leave  one  of  his  horses'  fore  shoes  loose  in  the  morning  ; or 
contrive  that  the  saddle  may  pinch  the  beast  in  his  withers  ; or  keep 
him  without  corn  all  night  and  morning,  so  that  he  may  tire  on  the 
road  ; or  wedge  a thin  plate  of  iron  between  the  hoof  and  the  shoe  to 
make  him  halt ; and  all  this  in  perfect  tenderness  to  your  master. 

When  you  are  going  to  be  hired,  and  the  gentleman  asks  you, 
Whether  you  are  apt  to  be  drunk,  own  freely  that  you  love  a cup  of 
good  ale ; but  that  it  is  your  way,  drunk  or  sober,  never  to  neglect  your 
horse3. 

When  your  master  has  a mind  to  ride  out  for  the  air,  or  for  pleasure, 
if  any  private  business  of  your  own  makes  it  inconvenient  for  you  to 
attend  him,  give  him  to  understand  that  the  horses  want  bleeding  or 
purging  ; that  his  own  pad  has  got  a surfeit ; or  that  the  saddle  wants 
stuffing,  and  his  bridle  is  gone  to  be  mended  : this  you  may  honestly 
do,  because  it  will  be  no  injury  to. the  horses  or  your  master;  and  at 
the  same  time  shows  the  great  care  you  have  of  the  poor  dumb  creatures. 

If  there  be  a particular  inn  in  the  town  whither  you  are  going,  and 
where  you  are  well  acquainted  with  the  ostler  or  tapster,  and  the  people 
of  the  house,  find  fault  with  the  other  inns,  and  recommend  your 
master  thither  : it  may  probably  be  a pot  and  a dram  or  two  more  in 
your  way,  and  to  your  master's  honour. 

If  your  master  sends  you  to  buy  hay,  deal  with  those  who  will  be  the 
most  liberal  to  you  ; for  service  being  no  inheritance,  you  ought  not  to 
let  slip  any  lawful  and  customary  perquisite.  If  your  master  buys  it 
himself  he  wrongs  you  ; and  to  teach  him  his  duty  be  sure  to  find  fault 
with  the  hay  as  long  as  it  lasts  ; and  if  the  horses  thrive  with  it  the  fault 
is  yours. 

Hay  and  oats  in  the  management  of  a skilful  groom  will  make  ex- 
cellent ale  as  well  as  brandy  ; but  this  I only  hint. 

When  your  master  dines  or  lies  at  a gentleman's  house  in  the  coun- 
try, although  there  be  no  groom,  or  he  be  gone  abroad,  or  that  the 
horses  have  been  quite  neglected,  be  sure  employ  some  of  the  servants 
to  hold  the  horse  when  your  master  mounts.  This  I would  have  you 
do,  when  your  master  only  alights  to  call  in  for  a few  minutes  ; for 
brother  servants  must  always  befriend  one  another,  and  that  also  con- 
cerns your  master's  honour,  because  he  cannot  do  less  than  give  a piece 
of  money  to  him  who  holds  his  horse. 


DIRECTIONS  TO  SERVANTS. 


3*5 


In  long  journeys,  ask  your  master  leave  to  give  ale  to  the  horses  ; 
carry  two  quarts  full  to  the  stable,  pour  half  a pint  into  a bowl ; and  if 
they  will  not  drink  it  you  and  the  ostler  must  do  the  best  you  can  ; per- 
haps they  may  be  in  a better  humour  at  the  next  inn  ; for  I would  have 
you  never  fail  to  make  the  experiment. 

When  you  go  to  air  your  horses  in  the  park  or  the  fields,  give  them 
to  a horseboy,  or  one  of  the  blackguai  ds,  who,  being  lighter  than  you, 
may  be  trusted  to  run  races  with  less  damage  to  the  horses,  and  teach 
them  to  leap  over  hedges  and  ditches,  while  you  are  drinking  a friendly 
pot  with  your  brother  grooms  ; but  sometimes  you  and  they  may  run 
races  yourselves,  for  the  honour  of  your  horses  and  of  your  masters. 

Never  stint  your  horses  at  home  in  hay  and  oats,  but  fill  the  rack  to 
the  top,  and  the  manger  to  the  brim,  for  you  would  take  it  ill  to  be 
stinted  yourself,  although  perhaps  they  may  not  have  the  stomach  to  eat; 
consider,  they  have  no  tongues  to  ask.  If  the  hay  be  thrown  down 
there  is  no  loss,  for  it  will  make  litter  and  save  straw. 

When  your  master  is  leaving  a gentleman’s  house  in  the  country, 
where  he  has  lain  a night,  then  consider  his  honour  ; let  him  know  how 
many  servants  there  are  of  both  sexes  who  expect  vails  ; and  give  them 
their  cue  to  attend  in  two  lines  as  he  leaves  the  house  ; but  desire  him 
not  to  trust  the  money  with  the  butler  for  fear  he  should  cheat  the  rest  ; 
this  will  force  your  master  to  be  more  generous  : and  then  you  may 
take  occasion  to  tell  your  master  that  squire  such  a one,  whom  you 
lived  with  last,  always  gave  so  much  apiece  to  the  common  servants, 
and  so  much  to  the  housekeeper,  and  the  rest,  naming  at  least  double 
to  what  he  intended  to  give  ; but  be  sure  to  tell  the  servants  what  a 
good  office  you  did  them ; this  will  gain  you  love,  and  your  master 
honour. 

You  may  venture  to  be  drunk  much  oftener  than  the  coachman, 
whatever  he  pretends  to  allege  in  his  own  behalf,  because  you  hazard 
nobody’s  neck  but  your  own  ; for  the  horse  will  probably  take  so  much 
care  of  himself  as  to  come  off  with  only  a strain  or  a shoulderslip. 

When  you  carry  your  master’s  riding-coat  in  a journey,  wrap  your 
own  in  it,  and  buckle  them  up  close  with  a strap,  but  turn  your  master’s 
inside  out  to  preserve  the  outside  from  wet  and  dirt ; thus,  when  it 
begins  to  rain,  your  master’s  coat  will  be  first  ready  to  be  given  him ; 
and  if  it  gets  more  hurt  than  yours  he  can  afford  it  better,  for  your 
livery  must  always  serve  its  year’s  apprenticeship. 

When  you  come  to  your  inn  with  the  horses  wet  and  dirty  after  hard 
riding,  and  are  very  hot,  make  the  ostler  immediately  plunge  them  into 
water  up  to  their  bellies,  and  allow  them  to  drink  as  much  as  they 
please  ; but  be  sure  to  gallop  them  full  speed  a mile  at  least,  to  dry 
their  skins  and  warm  the  water  in  their  bellies.  The  ostler  understands 
his  business  ; leave  all  to  his  discretion,  while  you  get  a pot  of  ale  and 
some  brandy  at  the  kitchen  fire  to  comfort  your  heart. 

If  your  horse  drop  a fore-shoe,  be  so  careiul  as  to  alight  and  take  it 
up  ; then  ride  with  all  speed  you  can  with  the  shoe  in  your  hand  (that 
every  traveller  may  observe  your  care)  to  the  next  smith  on  the  road, 
make  him  put  it  on  immediately  that  your  master  may  not  wait  for 
you  and  that  the  poor  horse  may  be  as  short  a time  as  possible  without 
a shoe. 


IXEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


316 

When  your  master  lies  at  a gentleman’s  house,  if  you  find  the  hay 
and  oats  are  good,  complain  aloud  of  their  badness  ; this  will  get  you 
the  name  of  a diligent  servant ; and  be  sure  to  cram  the  horses  with  as 
much  oats  as  they  can  eat  while  you  are  there,  and  you  may  give  them 
so  much  the  less  for  some  days  at  the  inns,  and  turn  the  oats  into  ale. 
When  you  leave  the  gentleman’s  house,  tell  your  master  what  a covetous 
hunks  that  gentleman  was,  that  you  got  nothing  but  butter-milk  or 
water  to  drink  ; this  will  make  your  master  out  of  pity  allow  you  a pot 
of  ale  the  more  at  the  next  inn  ; but  if  you  happen  to  get  drunk  in  a 
gentleman’s  house,  your  master  cannot  be  angry,  because  it  cost  him 
nothing ; and  so  you  ought  to  tell  him  as  well  as  you  can  in  yout 
present  condition,  and  let  him  know  it  is  both  for  his  and  the  gentle- 
man’s honour  to  make  a friend’s  servant  welcome. 

A master  ought  always  to  love  his  groom,  to  put  him  in  a handsome 
livery,  and  to  allow  him  a silver-laced  hat.  When  you  are  in  this  equi- 
page, all  the  honours  he  receives  on  the  road  are  owing  to  you  alone  ; 
that  he  is  not  turned  out  of  the  way  by  every  carrier,  is  caused  by  the 
civility  he  receives  at  secondhand  from  the  respect  paid  to  your  livery. 

You  may  now  and  then  lend  your  master’s  pad  to  a brother  servant, 
or  your  favourite  maid,  for  a short  jaunt,  or  hire  him  for  a day,  because 
the  horse  is  spoiled  for  want  of  exercise ; and  if  your  master  happens  to 
want  his  horse,  or  has  a mind  to  see  the  stable,  curse  that  rogue  the 
helper,  who  is  gone  out  with  the  key. 

When  you  want  to  spend  an  hour  or  two  with  your  companions  at 
the  alehouse,  and  that  you  stand  in  need  of  a reasonable  excuse  for 
your  stay,  go  out  of  the  stable  door,  or  the  back  way,  with  an  old 
bridle,  girth,  or  stirrup-leather  in  your  pocket ; and  on  your  return  come  : 
home  by  the  street  door  with  the  same  bridle,  girth,  or  stirrup-leather 
dangling  in  your  hand,  as  if  you  came  from  the  saddler’s,  where  you 
were  getting  the  same  mended ; if  you  were  not  missed,  all  is  well ; but 
if  you  are  met  by  your  master,  you  will  have  the  reputation  of  a careful 
servant.  This  1 have  known  practised  with  good  success. 

CHAPTER  VI. 

DIRECTIONS  TO  THE  HOUSE  STEWARD  AND  LAND  STEWARD. 

LORD  PETERBOROUGH’S  steward,  that  pulled  down  his  house, 
sold  the  materials,  and  charged  my  lord  with  repairs.  Take 
money  for  forbearance  from  tenants.  Renew  leases,  and  get  by  them 
and  sell  woods.  Lend  my  lord  his  own  money.  Gil  Bias  said  much 
of  this,  to  whom  I refer. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

DIRECTIONS  TO  THE  PORTER. 

IF  vour  master  be  a minister  of  state,  let  him  be  at  home  to  none  but 
his  pimp,  or  chief  flatterer,  or  one  of  his  pensionary  writers,  or  his 
hired  spy  and  informer,  or  his  printer  in  ordinary,  or  his  city  solicitor, 
or  a land-jobber,  or  his  inventor  of  new  funds;  or  a stock-joboer. 

* 


DIRECTIONS  TO  SERVANTS . 


3i7 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


DIRECTIONS  TO  THE  CHAMBERMAID. 


HE  nature  of  your  employment  differs  according  to  the  quality, 


the  pride,  or  the  wealth  of  the  lady  you  serve,  and  this  treatise 
is  to  be  applied  to  all  sorts  of  families  : so  that  I find  myself  under 
great  difficulty  to  adjust  the  best  business  for  which  you  are  hired.  In  a 
family  where  there  is  a tolerable  estate,  you  differ  from  the  housemaid, 
and  in  that  view  I give  my  directions.  Your  particular  province  is 
your  lady's  chamber,  where  you  make  the  bed,  and  put  things  in  order  ; 
and  if  you  live  in  the  country,  you  take  care  of  -rooms,  where  ladies  lie 
who  come  into  the  house,  which  brings  in  all  the  vails  that  fall  to  your 
share.  Your  usual  lover,  as  I take  it,  is  the  coachman  ; but,  if  you  are 
under  twenty,  and  tolerably  handsome,  perhaps  a footman  may  cast  his 
eyes  on  you. 

Get  your  favourite  footman  to  help  you  in  making  your  lady's  bed  ; 
and  if  you  serve  a young  couple,  the  footman  and  you,  as  you  are  turn- 
ing up  the  bed-clothes,  will  make  the  prettiest  observations  in  the  world, 
which  whispered  about  will  be  very  entertaining  to  the  whole  family, 
and  get  among  the  neighbourhood. 

Do  not  carry  down  the  necessary  vessels  for  the  fellows  to  see,  but 
empty  them  out  of  the  window,  for  your  lady's  credit.  It  is  highly  im- 
proper for  men-servants  to  know  that  fine  ladies  have  occasion  for  such 
utensils  : and  do  not  scour  the  chamberpot,  because  the  smell  is  whole- 
some. 

If  you  happen  to  break  any  china  with  the  top  of  the  whisk  on  the 
mantle-tree  or  the  cabinet,  gather  up  the  fragments,  put  them  together  as 
well  as  you  can,  and  place  them  behind  the  rest,  so  that  when  your  lady 
comes  to  discover  them,  you  may  safely  say  they  were  broke  long  ago, 
before  you  came  to  the  service.  This  will  save  your  lady  many  an 
hour’s  vexation. 

It  sometimes  happens  that  a looking-glass  is  broken  by  the  same 
means,  while  you  are  looking  another  way,  as  you  sweep  the  chamber, 
the  long  end  of  the  brush  strikes  against  the  glass  and  breaks  it  to 
shivers.  This  is  the  extremest  of  all  misfortunes,  and  all  remedy  despe- 
rate in  appearance,  because  it  is  impossible  to  be  concealed.  Such  a 
fatal  accident  once  happened  in  a great  family,  where  I had  the  honour 
to  be  a footman,  and  I will  relate  the  particulars  to  show  the  ingenuity 
of  the  poor  chambermaid  on  so  sudden  and  dreadful  an  emergency, 
which  perhaps  may  help  to  sharpen  your  invention,  if  your  evil  star 
should  ever  give  you  the  like  occasion.  The  poor  girl  had  broken  a 
large  japan  glass  of  great  value  with  a stroke  of  her  brush  ; she  had 
not  considered  long,  when  by  a prodigious  presence  of  mind  she  locked 
the  door,  stole  into  the  yard,  brought  a stone  of  three  pounds  weight 
into  the  chamber,  laid  it  on  the  hearth  just  under  the  looking-glass, 
then  broke  a pane  in  the  sash  window  that  looked  into  the  same  yard, 
so  shut  the  door  and  went  about  her  other  affairs.  Two  hours  after  the 
lady  goes  into  the  chamber,  sees  the  glass  broken,  the  stone  lying 
under,  and  a whole  pane  in  the  window  destroyed,  from  all  which  cir- 
cumstances she  concluded,just  as  the  maid  could  have  Wished, that  some 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


31S 

idle  straggler  in  the  neighbourhood,  or  perhaps  pne  of  the  out  servants, 
had  through  malice,  accident  or  carelessness,  flung  in  the  stone  and 
done  the  mischief.  Thus  far  all  things  went  well,  and  the  girl  concluded 
herself  out  of  danger  ; but  it  was  her  ill  fortune,  that  a few  hours  after 
in  came  the  parson  of  the  parish,  and  the  lady  naturally  told  him  the 
accident,  which  you  may  believe  had  mugh  discomposed  her ; but  the 
minister,  who  happened  to  understand  mathematics,  after  examining 
the  situation  of  the  yard,  the  window,  and  the  chimney,  soon  convinced 
the  lady  that  the  stone  could  never  reach  the  looking-glass  without 
taking  three  turns  in  its  flight  from  the  hand  that  threw  it ; and  the 
maid  being  proved  to  have  swept  the  room  the  same  morning,  was 
strictly  examined,  but  constantly  denied  that  she  was  guilty  upon  her 
salvation,  offering  to  take  her  oath  upon  the  Bible  before  his  reverence, 
that  she  was  as  innocent  as  the  child  unborn  ; yet  the  poor  wench  was 
turned  off,  which  I take  to  have  been  hard  treatment,  considering  her 
ingenuity  : however,  this  may  be  a direction  to  you  in  the  like  case  to 
contrive  a story  that  will  better  hang  together.  For  instance,  you  might 
say,  that  while  you  were  at  work  with  a mop  or  brush  a flash  of  light- 
ning came  suddenly  in  at  the  window,  which  almost  blinded  you  ; that 
you  immediately  heard  the  ringing  of  broken  glass  on  the  hearth  ; that 
as  soon  as  you  recovered  your  eyes,  you  saw  the  looking-glass  all  broken 
to  pieces,  or  you  may  allege,  that  observing  the  glass  a little  covered  1 
with  dust,  and  going  very  gently  to  wipe  it,  you  suppose  the  moisture  of 
the  air  had  dissolved  the  glue  or  cement,  which  made  it  fall  to  the 
ground  ; or  as  soon  as  the  mischief  is  done,  you  may  cut  the  cords 
that  fastened  the  glass  to  the  wainscot,  and  so  let  it  fall  flat  on  the  j 
ground  ; run  out  in  a fright,  tell  your  lady,  curse  the  upholsterer,  and 
declare  how  narrowly  you  escaped,  that  it  did  not  fall  upon  your  head. 

I offer  these  expedients  from  a desire  I have  to  defend  the  innocent : i 
for  innocent  you  certainly  must  be,  if  you  did  not  break  the  glass  on 
purpose,  which  I would  by  no  means  excuse,  except  upon  great  provo- 
cations. 

Oil  the  tongs,  poker,  and  fireshovel  up  to  the  top,  not  only  to  keep 
them  from  rusting,  but  likewise  to  prevent  meddling  people  from  wasting 
your  master’s  coals  with  stirring  the  fire. 

When  you  are  in  haste,  sweep  the  dust  into  a corner  of  the  room, 
but  leave  your  brush  upon  it,  that  it  may  not  be  seen,  for  that  would  dis- 
grace you.  \ 

Never  wash  your  hands,  or  put  on  a clean  apron  till  you  have  made 
your  lady’s  bed,  for  fear  of  rumpling  your  apron,  or  fouling  your  hands 
again.  1 

When  you  bar  the  window-shuts  of  your  lady’s  bedchamber  at  nights, 
leave  open  the  sashes  to  let  in  the  fresh  air,  and  sweeten  the  room  against 
morning. 

In  the  time  when  you  leave  the  windows  open  for  air,  leave  books, 
or  something  else  on  the  window-seat,  that  they  may  get  air  too. 

When  you  sweep  your  lady’s  room,  never  stay  to  pick  up  foul  smocks, 
handkerchiefs,  pinners,  pincushions,  teaspoons,  ribbands,  slippers,  or 
whatever  lies  n your  way  ; but  sweep  all  into  a corner,  and  then 
you  may  take  them  up  in  a lump  and  save  time. 

Making  beds  in  hot  weather  is  a very  laborious  work,  and  you  will 


DIRECTIONS  TO  SERVANTS. 


V9 


be  apt  to  sweat ; therefore,  when  you  find  the  drops  running  down  from 
your  forehead,  wipe  them  off  with  a corner  of  the  sheet,  that  they  may 
not  be  seen  on  the  bed. 

When  your  lady  sends  you  to  wash  a china  cup,  and  it  happen  to 
fall,  bring  it  up,  and  swear  you  did  but  just  touch  it  with  your  hand, 
when  it  broke  into  three  halves  ; and  here  I must  inform  you,  as  well 
as  all  your  fellow-servants,  that  you  ought  never  to  be  without  an  ex- 
cuse ; it  does  no  harm  to  your  master,  and  it  lessens  your  fault ; as  in 
this  instance,  I do  not  commend  you  for  breaking  the  cup,  it  is  certain 
you  did  not  break  it  on  purpose,  and  the  thing  is  possible  that  it  might 
break  in  your  hand. 

You  are  sometimes  desirous  to  see  a funeral,  a quarrel,  a man  going 
to  be  hanged,  a wedding,  a bawd  carted,  or  the  like  : as  they  pass  by  in 
the  street,  you  lift  up  the  sash  suddenly,  there  by  misfortune  it  sticks  ; 
this  wras  no  fault  of  yours.  Young  women  are  curious  by  nature,  you 
have  no  remedy  but  to  cut  the  cord,  and  lay  the  fault  upon  the  carpenter, 
unless  nobody  saw  you,  and  then  you  are  as  innocent  as  any  one  in  the 
house. 

Wear  your  lady’s  smock  when  she  has  thrown  it  off ; it  will  do  you 
credit,  save  your  awn  linen,  and  be  not  a pin  the  worse. 

When  you  put  a clean  pillow-case  on  your  lady’s  pillow,  be  sure  to 
fasten  it  well  with  corking  pins,  that  it  may  not  fall  off  in  the  night. 

When  you  spread  bread  and  butter  for  tea,  be  sure  that  all  the  holes 
in  the  loaf  be  left  full  of  butter,  to  keep  the  bread  moist  against  dinner  ; 
and  let  the  mark  of  your  thumb  be  seen  only  upon  one  end  of  every 
slice  to  show  your  cleanliness. 

When  you  are  ordered  to  open  or  lock  any  door,  trunk,  or  cabinet, 
and  miss  the  proper  key,  or  cannot  distinguish  it  in  the  bunch  ; try  the 
first  key  that  you  can  thrust  in,  and  turn  it  with  all  your  strength,  till 
you  open  the  lock,  or  break  the  key  ; for  your  lady  will  reckon  you  a 
fool  to  come  back  and  do  nothing. 


WO  accidents  have  happened  to  lessen  the  comforts  and  profits  of 


your  employment  ; first,  that  execrable  custom  got  among  ladies 
of  trucking  their  old  clothes  for  china,  or  turning  them  to  cover  easy 
chairs,  or  making  them  into  patchwork  for  screens,  stools,  cushions,  and 
the  like.  The  second  is,  the  invention  of  small  chests  and  trunks  with 
lock  and  key,  wherein  they  keep  the  tea  and  sugar,  without  which  it  is 
impossible  for  a waiting-maid  to  live  ; for,  by  this  means,  you  are 
forced  to  buy  brown  sugar,  and  pour  water  upon  the  leaves,  when  they 
have  lost  all  their  spirit  and  taste.  I cannot  contrive  any  perfect  remedy 
against  either  of  these  two  evils.  As  to  the  former,  I think  there  should 
be  a general  confederacy  of  all  the  servants  in  every  family,  for  the 
public  good,  to  drive  those  china  hucksters  from  the  doors  ; and  as  to 
the  latter,  there  is  no  other  method  to  relieve  yourselves,  but  by  a false 
key,  which  is  a point  both  difficult  and  dangerous  to  compass  ; but,  as 
to  the  circumstance  of  honesty  in  procuring  one,  I am  under  no  doubt. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

DIRECTIONS  TO  THE  WAITING-MAIIX 


320 


DEAN  SWIFrS  WORKS. 


when  your  mistress  gives  you  so  just  a provocation  by  refusing  you  an 
ancient  and  legal  perquisite.  The  mistress  of  the  tea-shop  may  now 
and  then  give  you  half  an  ounce  ; but  that  will  be  only  a drop  in  the 
bucket  : therefore  I fear  you  must  be  forced,  like  the  rest  of  your 
sisters,  to  run  in  trust,  and  pay  for  it  out  of  your  wages,  as  far  as  they 
will  go,  which  you  can  easily  make  up  other  ways,  if  your  lady  be  hand- 
some, or  her  daughters  have  good  fortunes. 

If  you  are  in  a great  family,  and  my  lady's  woman,  my  lord  may 
probably  like  you,  although  you  are  not  half  so  handsome  as  his  own 
lady.  In  this  case  take  care  to  get  as  much  out  of  him  as  you  can  ; and 
never  allow  him  the  smallest  liberty,  not  the  squeezing  of  your  hand 
unless  he  puts  a guinea  into  it ; so  by  degrees  make  him  pay  accord- 
ingly for  every  new  attempt,  doubling  upon  him  in  proportion  to  the 
concessions  you  allow,  and  always  struggling,  and  threatening  to  cry  out, 
or  tell  your  lady,  although  you  receive  his  money  ; five  guineas  for 
handling  your  breast  is  a cheap  pennyworth,  although  you  seem  to 
resist  with  all  your  might  ; but  never  allow  him  the  last  favour  under  a 
hundred  guineas,  or  a settlement  of  twenty  pounds  a year  for  life. 

In  such  a family,  if  you  are  handsome,  you  will  have  the  choice  of 
three  lovers  ; the  chaplain,  the  steward,  and  my  lord’s  gentleman.  I 
would  first  advise  you  to  choose  the  steward  ; but  if  you  happen  to  be 
young  with  child  by  my  lord,  you  must  take  up  with  the  chaplain.  I 
like  my  lord’s  gentleman  the  least  of  the  three  : for  he  is  usually  vain 
and  saucy  from  the  time  he  throws  off  his  livery  ; and  if  he  misses  a 
pair  of  colours,  or  a tide-waiter’s  place,  he  has  no  remedy  but  the  high- 
way. 

I must  caution  you  particularly  against  my  lord’s  eldest  son  ; if  you 
are  dexterous  enough,  it  is  odds  that  you  may  draw  him  in  to  marry  you 
and  make  you  a lady  ; if  he  be  a common  rake  (and  he  must  be  one  or 
t’other)  avoid  him  like  Satan  ; for  he  stands  less  in  awe  of  a mother,  than 
my  lord  does  of  a wife  ; and  after  ten  thousand  promises,  you  will  get 
nothing  from  him  but  a big  belly  or  a clap,  and  probably  both  together. 

When  your  lady  is  ill,  and  after  a very  bad  night  is  getting  a little  nap  in 
the  morning,  if  a footman  comes  with  a message  to  inquire  how  she  does, 
do  not  let  the  compliment  be  lost,  but  shake  her  gently  until  she  wakes  ; 
then  deliver  the  message,  receive  her  answer  and  leave  her  to  sleep. 

If  you  are  so  happy  as  to  wait  on  a young  lady  with  a-great  fortune,  you 
must  be  an  ill  manager  if  you  cannot  get  five  or  six  hundred  pounds  for 
disposing  of  her.  Put  her  often  in  mind  that  she  is  rich  enough  to  make 
any  man  happy  ; that  there  is  no  real  happiness  but  in  love  ; that  she  has 
liberty  to  choose  wherever  she  pleases,  and  not  by  the  directions  of 
parents,  who  never  give  allowances  for  innocent  passion;  that  there  are  a 
world  of  handsome,  fine,  sweet  young  gentlemen  in  town,  who  would  be 
glad  to  die  at  her  feet ; that  the  conversation  of  two  lovers  is  a heaven 
upon  earth;  that  love  like  death,  equals  all  conditions;  that  if  she  should 
cast  her  eyes  upon  a young  fellow  below  her  in  birth  and  estate,  his  marry- 
ing her  would  make  him  a gentleman  ; that  you  saw  yesterday  on  the  Mali 
the  prettiest  ensign  ; and  that  if  you  had  forty  thousand  pounds  it  should 
be  at  his  service.  Take  care  that  every  body  should  know  what  lady  you 
live  with  ; how  great  a favourite  you  are  ; and  that  she  always  takes 
your  advice.  Go  often  to  St  James’s  Park  ; the  fine  fellows  will  soon 


DIRECTIONS  TO  SERVANTS* 


321 


discover  you,  and  contrive  to  slip  a letter  into  your  sleeve  or  your  bosom ; 
pull  it  out  in  a fury,  and  throw  it  on  the  ground,  unless  you  find  at  least 
two  guineas  along  with  it  ; but  in  that  case,  seem  not  to  find  it,  and  to 
think  he  was  only  playing  the  wag  with  you  ; when  you  come  home 
drop  the  letter  carelessly  in  your  lady’s  chamber,  she  finds  it,  is  angry  ; 
protest  you  knew  nothing  of  it,  only  you  remember,  that  a gentleman  in 
the  park  struggled  to  kiss  you,  and  you  believe  it  was  he  that  put  the 
letter  into  your  sleeve  or  petticoat ; and  indeed,  he  was  as  pretty  a man 
as  ever  you  saw  : that  she  may  burn  the  letter  if  she  pleases.  If  your 
lady  be  wise,  she  will  burn  some  other  paper  before  you,  and  read  the 
letter  when  you  are  gone  down.  You  must  follow  this  practice  as  often 
as  you  safely  can  ; but  let  him  who  pays  you  best  with  every  letter  be 
the  handsomest  man.  If  a footman  presumes  to  bring  a letter  to  the 
house  to  be  delivered  to  you  for  your  lady,  although  it  come  from  your 
best  customer,  throw  it  at  his  head ; call  him  impudent  rogue  and 
villain,  and  shut  the  door  in  his  face  : run  up  to  your  lady,  and  as  a 
proof  of  your  fidelity,  tell  her  what  you  have  done. 

I could  enlarge  very  much  upon  this  subject,  but  I trust  to  your  own 
discretion. 

If  you  serve  a lady,  who  is  a little  disposed  to  gallantries,  you  will 
find  it  a point  of  great  prudence  how  to  manage  ; three  things  are 
necessary.  First,  how  to  please  your  lady  ; secondly,  how  to  prevent 
suspicion  in  the  husband,  or  among  the  family  ; and  lastly,  but  princi- 
pally, how  to  make  it  most  for  your  own  advantage.  To  give  you  full 
directions  in  this  important  affair  would  require  a large  volume.  All 
assignations  at  home  are  dangerous  both  to  your  lady  and  yourself;  and 
therefore  contrive,  as  much  as  possible,  to  have  them  in  a third  place; 
especially  if  your  lady,  as  it  is  a hundred  odds,  entertains  more  lovers 
than  one,  each  of  whom  is  often  more  jealous  than  a thousand  hus- 
bands ; and  very  unlucky  rencounters  may  often  happen  under  the 
best  management.  I need  not  warn  you  to  employ  your  good  offices 
chiefly  in  favour  of  those  whom  you  find  most  liberal ; yet,  if  your  lady 
should  happen  to  cast  an  eye  upon  a handsome  footman,  you  should  be 
generous  enough  to  bear  with  her  humour,  which  is  no  singularity,  but 
a very  natural  appetite:  it  is  still  the  safest  of  all  home  intrigues,  and 
was  formerly  the  least  suspected,  until  of  late  years  it  has  grown  more 
common.  The  great  danger  is,  lest  this  kind  of  gentry,  dealing  too 
often  in  bad  ware,  may  happen  not  to  be  sound  : and  then  your  lady 
and  you  are  in  a very  bad  way,  although  not  altogether  desperate. 

But  to  say  the  truth,  I confess  it  is  a great  presumption  in  me  to  offer 
you  any  instructions  in  the  conduct  of  your  lady’s  amours,  wherein 
your  whole  sisterhood  is  already  so  expert,  and  deeply  learned  ; al- 
though it  be  much  more  difficult  to  compass,  than  that  assistance  which 
my  brother  footmen  give  their  masters  on  the  like  occasion ; and 
therefore  I leave  this  affair  to  be  treated  by  some  abler  pen. 

When  you  lock  up  a silk  mantua,  or  laced  head,  in  a trunk  or  chest, 
leave  a piece  out,  that  when  you  open  the  trunk  again,  you  may  know 
where  to  find  it 


21 


32J 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


CHAPTER  X. 

DIRECTIONS  TO  THE  HOUSEMAID. 

IF  your  master  and  lady  go  into  the  country  for  a week  or  more 
never  wash  the  bedchamber  or  dining-room  until  just  the  hour  be- 
fore you  expect  them  to  return:  thus  the  rooms  will  be  perfectly  clean 
to  receive  them,  and  you  will  not  be  at  the  trouble  to  wash  them  so  soon 
again. 

I am  very  much  offended  with  those  ladies  who  are  so  proud  and 
lazy,  that  they  will  not  be  at  the  pains  of  stepping  into  the  garden  to 
pluck  a rose,  but  keep  an  odious  implement ; sometimes  in  the  bed- 
chamber itself,  or  at  least  in  a dark  closet  adjoining,  which  they  make 
use  of  to  ease  their  worst  necessities:  and  you  are  the  usual  carriers 
away  of  the  pan  ; which  makes  not  only  the  chamber,  but  even  their 
clothes,  offensive  to  all  who  come  near.  Now  to  cure  them  of  this 
odious  practice,  let  me  advise  you,  on  whom  the  office  lies  to  convey 
away  this  utensil,  that  you  will  do  it  openly  down  the  great  stairs,  and  in 
the  presence  of  the  footmen;  and  if  anybody  knocks,  to  open  the  street 
door  while  you  have  the  vessel  filled  in  your  hands  ; this,  if  any  thing 
can,  will  make  your  lady  take  the  pains  of  evacuating  her  person  in  the 
proper  place,  rather  than  expose  her  filthiness  to  all  the  men-servants  in 
the  house. 

Leave  a pail  of  dirty  water  with  a mop  in  it,  a coal-box,  a bottle,  a 
broom,  a chamberpot,  and  such  other  unsightly  things,  either  in  a 
blind  entry,  or  upon  the  darkest  part  of  the  back-stairs,  that  they  may  { 
not  be  seen  : and  if  people  break  their  shins  by  trampling  on  them,  it 
is  their  own  fault. 

Never  empty  the  chamberpots  until  they  are  quite  full:  if  that  hap-  i 
pens  in  the  night,  empty  them  into  the  street ; if  in  the  morning,  into  ' 
the  garden  ; for  it  would  be  an  endless  work  to  go  a dozen  times  from 
the  garret  and  upper  rooms  down  to  the  backside  ; but  never  wash 
them  in  any  other  liquor  except  their  own:  what  cleanly  girl  would  be 
dabbling  in  other  folk’s  urine  ? and  besides,  the  smell  of  stale,  as  I ob- 
served before,*  is  admirable  against  the  vapours  ; which  a hundred  to 
one,  may  be  your  lady’s  case. 

Brush  down  the  cobwebs  with  a broom  that  is  wet  and  dirty, 
which  will  make  them  stick  the  faster  to  it,  and  bring  them  down  more 
effectually. 

When  you  rid  up  the  parlour  hearth  in  a morning,  throw  the  last 
night’s  ashes  into  a sieve:  and  what  falls  through,  as  you  carry  it  down, 
will  serve  instead  of  sand  for  the  rooms  and  the  stairs. 

When  you  have  scoured  the  brasses  and  irons  in  the  parlour  chimney, 
lay  the  foul  wet  clout  upon  the  next  chair,  that  your  lady  may  see  you 
have  not  neglected  your  work:  observe  the  same  rule  when  you  clean 
the  brass  locks,  only  v/ith  this  addition,  to  leave  the  marks  of  your 
fingers  on  the  doors,  to  show  you  have  not  forgot. 

Leave  your  lady’s  chamberpot  in  her  bedchamber  window  all  day 
lo  air. 

Bring  up  none  but  large  coals  to  the  dining-room  and  your  lady’s 


DIRECTIONS  TO  SERVANTS. 


323 

chamber ; they  make  the  best  fires,  and  if  you  find  them  too  big,  it  is 
easy  to  break  them  on  the  marble  hearth. 

When  you  go  to  bed,  be  sure  take  care  of  fire  ; and  therefore  blow 
the  candle  out  with  your  breath,  and  then  thrust  it  under  your  bed. 
Note,  the  smell  of  the  snuff  is  very  good  against  vapours. 

Persuade  the  footman,  who  got  you  with  child,  to  marry  you  before 
you  are  six  months  gone:  and  if  your  lady  asks  you  why  you  would  take 
a fellow  who  was  not  worth  a groat  ? let  your  answer  be,  That  service 
is  no  inheritance. 

When  your  lady’s  bed  is  made,  put  the  chamberpot  under  it ; but 
in  such  a manner  as  to  thrust  the  valance  along  with  it,  that  it  may 
be  full  in  sight,  and  ready  for  your  lady  when  she  has  occasion  to 
use  it. 

Lock  up  a cat  or  a dog  in  some  room  or  closet  so  as  to  make  such  a 
noise  all  over  the  house  as  may  frighten  away  the  thieves,  if  any  should 
attempt  to  break  or  steal  in. 

When  you  wash  any  of  the  rooms  toward  the  street  over  night,  throw 
the  foul  water  out  of  the  street  door;  but  be  sure  not  to  look  before  y°u>^3 
for  fear  those  on  whom  the  water  lights  might  think  you  uncivil,  and*^ 
that  you  did  it  on  purpose.  If  he  who  suffers,  breaks  the  windows  in 
revenge,  and  your  lady  chides  you,  and  gives  positive  orders  that  you 
should  carry  the  pail  down,  and  empty  it  in  the  sink,  you  have  an  easy 
remedy:  when  you  wash  an  upper  room,  carry  down  the  pail  so  as  to 
let  the  water  dribble  on  the  stairs  all  the  way  down  to  the  kitchen  ; by 
which  not  only  your  load  will  be  lighter,  but  you  will  convince  your 
lady,  that  it  is  better  to  throw  the  water  out  of  the  windows,  or  down 
the  street-door  steps  ; besides,  this  latter  practice  will  be  very  divert- 
ing to  you  and  the  family  in  a frosty  night,  to  see  a hundred  people 
on  their  noses  or  backsides  before  your  door,  when  the  water  is 
frozen. 

Polish  and  brighten  the  marble  hearths  and  chimney  pieces  with  a 
clout  dipped  in  grease  ; nothing  makes  them  shine  so  well ; and  it  is 
the  business  of  the  ladies  to  take  care  of  their  petticoats. 

If  your  lady  be  so  nice  that  she  will  have  the  room  scoured  with  free- 
stone, be  sure  to  leave  the  marks  of  the  freestone  six  inches  deep  round 
the  bottom  of  the  wainscot,  that  your  lady  may  see  your  obedience  to 
her  orders. 

CHAPTER  XI. 

DIRECTIONS  TO  THE  DAIRYMAID. 

TTATIGUE  of  making  butter  : put  scalding  water  in  your  churn, 

Jl  although  in  summer,  and  churn  close  to  the  kitchen  fire,  and  with 
cream  of  a week  old.  Keep  cream  for  your  sweetheart. 

CHAPTER  XII. 

* DIRECTIONS  TO  THE  CHILDREN’S  MAID. 

IF  a child  be  sick,  give  it  whatever  it  wants  to  eat  or  drink,  although 
particularly  forbid  by  the  doctor  : for  what  we  long  for  in  sickness 
will  do  us  good ; and  throw  the  physic  out  of  the  window  : the  child 

2l~Z 


324 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


will  love  you  the  better  ; but  bid  it  not  tell.  Do  the  same  for  your  lady 
when  she  longs  for  anything  in  sickness,  and  engage  it  will  do  her 
good. 

If  your  mistress  comes  to  the  nursery,  and  offers  to  whip  a child, 
snatch  it  out  of  her  hands  in  rage,  and  tell  her  she  is  the  cruellest 
mother  you  ever  saw  : she  will  chide,  but  love  you  the  better.  Tell  the 
children  stories  of  spirits,  when  they  offer  to  cry,  &c. 

Be  sure  to  wean  the  children,  &c. 


IF  you  happen  to  let  the  child  fall,  and  lame  it,  be  sure  never  confess 
it  ; and  if  it  dies,  all  is  safe. 

Contrive  to  be  with  child  as  soon  as  you  can,  while  you  are  giving 
suck,  that  you  may  be  ready  for  another  service,  when  the  child  you 
nurse  dies,  or  is  weaned. 


IF  you  singe  the  linen  with  the  iron,  rub  the  place  with  flour,  chalk, 
or  white  powder  ; and  if  nothing  will  do,  wash  it  so  long  till  it  be 
either  not  to  be  seen,  or  torn  to  rags. 

About  tearing  linen  in  washing  : 

When  your  linen  is  pinned  on  the  line,  or  on  a hedge,  and  it  rains, 
whip  it  off,  although  you  tear  it,  &c.  But  the  place  for  hanging  them 
is  on  young  fruit  trees,  especially  in  blossom  ; the  linen  cannot  be  torn, 
and  the  trees  give  them  a fine  smelL 


OU  must  always  have  a favourite  footman  whom  you  can  depend 


upon  ; and  order  him  to  be  very  watchful  when  the  second  course 
is  taken  off,  that  it  be  brought  safely  to  your  office,  that  you  and  the 
steward  may  have  a titbit  together. 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

DIRECTIONS  TO  THE  TUTORESS,  OR  GOVERNESS. 

SAY  the  children  have  sore  eyes ; Miss  Betty  won’t  take  to  her 
book,  &c. 

Make  the  misses  read  French  and  English  novels,  and  French  ro- 
mances, all  the  comedies  writ  in  King  Charles  II.  and  King  William’s 
reigns,  to  soften  their  nature,  and  make  them  tender-hearted,  &c. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


DIRECTIONS  TO  THE  NURSE. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

DIRECTIONS  TO  THE  LAUNDRESS. 


CHAPTER  XV. 


DIRECTIONS  TO  THE  HOUSEKEEPER. 


A COMPLETE  COLLECTION 


OF 

GENTEEL  AND  INGENIOUS  CONVERSATION* 

ACCORDING  TO 

THE  MOST  POLITE  MODE  AND  METHOD 

NOW  USED  AT 

COURT,  AND  IN  THE  BEST  COMPANIES  OF  ENGLAND. 
IN  THREE  DIALOGUES . 


BY  SIMON  WAGSTAFF,  ESQ# 

INTRODUCTION. 

A S my  life  has  been  chiefly  spent  in  consulting  the  honour  and  wel- 
f\.  fare  of  my  country  for  more  than  forty  years  past,  not  without 
answerable  success,  if  the  world  and  my  friends  have  not  flattered  me; 
so  there  is  no  point  wherein  I have  so  much  laboured,  as  that  of  im- 
proving and  polishing  all  parts  of  conversation  between  persons  of 
quality,  whether  they  meet  by  accident  or  invitation,  af  meals,  tea,  or 
visits,  mornings,  noon,  or  evenings. 

I have  passed,  perhaps,  more  time  than  any  other  man  of  my  age  and 
country  in  visits  and  assemblies,  where  the  polite  persons  of  both  sexes 
distinguish  themselves  ; and  could  not  without  much  grief  observe  how 
frequently  both  gentlemen  and  ladies  are  at  a loss  for  questions, 
answers,  replies,  and  rejoinders.  However,  my  concern  was  much 
abated,  when  I found  that  these  defects  were  not  occasioned  by  any 
want  of  materials,  but  because  those  materials  were  not  in  every  hand  : 
for  instance,  one  lady  can  give  an  answer  better  than  ask  a ques- 
tion, one  gentleman  is  happy  at  a reply,  anotner  excels  in  a rejoinder  \ 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


325 

one  can  revive  a languishing  conversation  by  a sudden  surprising 
sentence,  another  is  more  dexterous  in  seconding,  a third  can  fill  up 
the  gap  with  laughing  or  commending  what  has  been  said  : thus  fresh 
hints  may  be  started,  and  the  ball  of  the  discourse  kept  up. 

But,  alas  ! this  is  too  seldom  the  case,  even  in  the  most  select  com- 
panies. How  often  do  we  see  at  court,  at  public  visiting  days,  at  great 
men’s  levdes,  and  other  places  of  general  meeting,  that  the  conversation 
falls  and  drops  to  nothing,  like  a fire  without  supply  of  fuel ! This  is 
what  we  all  ought  to  lament,  and  against  this  dangerous  evil  I take 
upon  me  to  affirm,  that  I have  in  the  following  papers  provided  an  in- 
fallible remedy. 

It  was  in  the  year  1695,  and  the  sixth  of  his  late  majesty  king  William 
the  Third  of  ever  glorious  and  immortal  memory,  who  rescued  three 
kingdoms  from"  popery  and  slavery,  when,  being  about  the  age  of  six 
and  thirty,  my  judgment  mature,  of  good  reputation  in  the  world,  and 
well  acquainted  with  the  best  families  in  town,  I determined  to  spend 
five  mornings,  to  dine  four  times,  pass  three  afternoons  and  six  even- 
ings every  week  in  the  houses  of  the  most  polite  families,  of  which  I 
would  confine  myself  to  fifty,  only  changing  as  the  masters  or  ladies 
died,  or  left  the  town,  or  grew  out  of  vogue,  or  sunk  in  their  fortunes, 
or  (which  to  me  was  of  the  highest  moment)  became  disaffected  to  the 
government  ; which  practice  I have  followed  ever  since  to  this  very 
day,  excent  when  I happened  to  be  sick,  or  in  the  spleen  upon  cloudy 
weather,  and  except  when  I entertained  four  of  each  sex  at  my  own 
lodgings  once  in  a month,  by  way  of  retaliation.  , i 

I always  kept  a large  tablebook  in  my  pocket,  and  as  scon  as  I left 
the  company  I immediately  entered  the  choicest  expressions  that 
passed  during  the  visit ; which,  returning  home,  I transcribed  in  a fair  j 
hand,  but  somewhat  enlarged  ; and  had  made  the  greatest  part  of  my  i 
collection  in  twelve  years,  but  not  digested  into  any  method,  for  this 
I found  was  a work  of  infinite  labour,  and  what  required  the  nicest 
judgment,  and  consequently  could  not  be  brought  to  any  degree  of  per- 
fection in  less  than  sixteen  years  more. 

Herein  I resolved  to  exceed  the  advice  of  Horace,  a Roman  poet, 
which  I have  read  in  Mr.  Creech’s  admirable  translation,  that  an  author 
should  keep  his  works  nine  years  in  his  closet,  before  he  ventured  to  pub-  h 
Ifth  them  : and  finding  that  I still  received  some  additional  flowers  of  wit  , 
and  language,although  in  a very  small  number,  I determined  to  defer  the 
publication,  tO  pursue  my  design,  and  exhaust,  if  possible,  the  whole 
subject,  that  I might  present  a complete  system  to  the  world  ; for  I am  ; 
convinced,  by  long  experience,  that  the  critics  will  be  as  severe  as  their 
old  envy  against  me  can  make  them.  I foresee  they  will  object,  that  I 
have  inserted  many  answers  and  replies  which  are  neither  witty, 
humorous,  polite,  nor  authentic  ; and  have  omitted  others  that  would 
have  been  highly  useful,  as  well  as  entertaining.  But  let  them  come  to 
particulars,  and  I will  boldly  engage  to  confute  their  malice. 

For  these  last  six  or  seven  years  I have  not  been  able  to  add  above 
nine  valuable  sentences  to  enrich  my  collection,  from  whence  I conclude 
that  what  remains  will  amount  only  to  a trifle.  However,  if,  after  the 
publication  of  this  work,  any  lady  or  gentleman,  when  they  have  read 
it,  shall  find  the  least  thing  of  importance  omitted,  I desire  they  will  j 


POLITE  CONVERSATION. 


32J 


^please  to  supply  my  defects  by  communicating  to  me  their  discoveries  ; 
and  their  letters  may  be  directed  to  Simon  Wagstaff,  Esq.,  at  his 
lodgings  next  door  to  the  Gloucester  Head  in  St.  James’s-street,  paying 
the  postage.  In  return  of  which  favour,  I shall  make  honourable  men- 
tion of  their  names  in  a short  preface  to  the  second  edition. 

In  the  mean  time,  I cannot  but  with  some  pride,  and  much  pleasure, 
congratulate  with  my  dear  country,  which  has  outdone  all  the  nations  of 
Europe,  in  advancing  the  whole  art  of  conversation  to  the  greatest 
height  it  is  capable  of  reaching  ; and  therefore,  being  entirely  con- 
vinced that  the  collection  I now  offer  to  the  public  is  full  and  complete, 
I may  at  the  same  time  boldly  affirm,  that  the  whole  genius,  humour, 
politeness,  and  eloquence  of  England,  are  summed  up  in  it  ; nor  is  the 
treasure  small,  wherein  are  to  be  found  at  least  a thousand  shining 
questions,  answers,  repartees,  replies,  and  rejoinders,  fitted  to  adorn 
every  kind  of  discourse  that  an  assembly  of  English  ladies  and  gentle- 
men, met  together  for  their  mutual  entertainment,  can  possibly  want, 
especially  when  the  several  flowers  shall  be  set  off  and  improved  by  the 
speakers,  with  every  circumstance  of  preface  and  circumlocution,  in 
proper  terms,  and  attended  with  praise,  laughter,  or  admiration. 

There  is  a natural,  involuntary  distortion  <5f  the  muscles,  which  is  the 
anatomical  cause  of  laughter  ; but  there  is  another  cause  of  laughter 
which  decency  requires,  and  is  the  undoubted  mark  of  a good  taste,  as 
well  as  of  a polite,  obliging,  behaviour  ; neither  is  this  to  be  acquired 
without  much  observation,  long  practice,  and  sound  judgment ; I did, 
therefore,  once  intend,  for  the  ease  of  the  learner,  to  set  down  in  all 
parts  ot  the  following  dialogues,  certain  marks,  asterisks,  or  noia  benes 
(in  English,  markwells)  after  most  questions,  and  every  reply  or  answer ; 
directing  exactly  the  moment  when  one,  two,  or  all  the  company  are  to 
laugh  ; but  having  duly  considered,  that  this  expedient  would  too  much 
enlarge  the  bulk  of  the  volume,  and  consequently  the  price  ; and  like- 
wise that  somethin?  ought  to  be  left  lor  ingenious  readers  to  find  out,  I 
uVterminea  to  leave  that  whoie  hough  of  great  importance, 

to  their  own  discretion. 

The  reader  must  learn  by  ail  means  to  distinguish  between  proverbs 
and  those  polite  speeches  which  beautify  conversation  ; for  as  to  the 
former,  I utterly  reject  them  out  of  all  ingenious  discourse.  I acknow- 
ledge, indeed,  that  there  may  possibly  be  found  in  this  treatise  a xew 
sayings,  among  so  great  a number  of  smart  turns  of  wit  and  humour  as 
1 have  produced,  which  have  a proverbial  air  ; however,  I hope  it  will 
be  considered  that  even  these  were  not  originally  proverbs,  but  the 
genuine  productions  of  superior  wits,  to  embellish  and  support  conver- 
sation ; whence,  with  great  impropriety  as  well  as  plagiarism  (if  you 
will  forgive  a hard  word)  they  have  most  injuriously  been  transi  erred 
into  proverbial  maxims  ; and,  therefore,  in  justice  ought  to  be  resumed 
out  of  vulgar  hands,  to  adorn  the  drawing-rooms  of  princes,  both  male 
and  female,  the  levies  of  great  ministers,  as  well  as  the  toilet  and  tea- 
table  of  the  ladies.  . 

I can  faithfully  assure  the  reader,  that  there  is  not  one  single  witty 
phrase  in  this  whole  collection,  which  has  not  received  the  stamp  and 
approbation  of  at  least  one  hundred  years,  and  how  much  longer  it  is 
hard  to  determine  ; he  may  therefore  be  secure  to  find  them  all  genuine, 
Sterling,  and  authentic 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


323 

But,  before  this  elaborate  treatise  can  become  of  universal  use  and** 
ornament  to  my  native  country,  two  points,  that  will  require  time  and 
much  application,  are  absolutely  necessary. 

For,  first,  whatever  person  would  aspire  to  be  comoletely  witty,  smart, 
humorous,  and  polite,  must,  by  hard  labour,  be  able  to  retain  in  his 
memory  every  single  sentence  contained  in  this  work,  so  as  never  to  be 
»nce  at  a loss  in  applying  the  right  answers,  questions,  repartees,  and 
the  like,  immediately,  and  without  study  or  hesitation. 

And,  secondly,  after  a lady  or  gentleman  has  so  well  overcome  this 
difficulty  as  never  to  be  at  a loss  upon  any  emergency,  the  true  man- 
agement of  every  feature,  and  almost  of  every  limb,  is  equally  neces- 
sary ; without  which  an  infinite  number  of  absurdities  will  inevitably 
ensue.  For  instance,  there  is  hardly  a polite  sentence  in  the  following 
dialogues,  which  does  not  absolutely  require  some  peculiar  graceful 
motion  in  the  eyes,  or  nose,  or  mouth,  or  forehead,  or  chin,  or  suitable 
toss  of  the  head,  with  certain  offices  assigned  to  each  hand  ; and  in 
ladies,  the  whole  exercise  of  the  fan,  fitted  to  the  energy  of  every  word 
they  deliver  ; by  no  means  omitting  the  various  turns  and  cadence  of 
the  voice,  the  twistings,  and  movements,  and  different  postures  of  the 
body,  the  several  kinds  and  gradations  of  laughter,  which  the  ladies 
must  daily  practise  by  the  looking-giass,  and  consult  upon  them  with 
their  waiting-maids. 

My  readers  will  soon  observe  what  a great  compass  of  real  and  useful 
knowledge  this  science  includes  ; wherein,  although  nature  assisted  by 
genius  may  be  very  instrumental,  yet  a strong  memory  and  constant  t 
application,  together  with  example  and  precept,  will  be  highly  necessary. 
For  these  reasons  I have  often  wished  that  certain  male  and  female 
instructors  perfectly  versed  in  this  science  would  set  up  schools  for  the  ^ 
instruction  of  young  ladies  and  gentlemen  therein. 

I remember,  about  thirty  years  ago,  there  was  a Bohemian  woman 
of  that  species  commonly  known  by  the  cf  gipsies.  who  came 

over  hither  from  France,  and  generally  attended  Isaac,  the  dancing 
master,  when  he  was  teaching  his  art  to  misses  of  quality  ; and  while 
the  young  ladies  were  thus  employed,  the  Bohemian,  standing  at  some 
distance,  but  full  in  their  sight,  acted  before  them  all  proper  airs,  and 
heavings  of  the  head,  and  motions  of  the  hands,  and  twistings  of  the 
body  ; whereof  you  may  still  observe  the  good  effects  in  several  of  our 
elder  ladies. 

After  the  same  manner  it  were  much  to  be  desired  that  some  expert 
gentlewoman  gone  to  decay  would  set  up  public  schools,  wherein  voung  ; 
girls  of  quality,  or  great  fortunes,  might  first  be  taught  to  repeat  this 
following  system  of  conversation,  which  I have  been  at  so  much  pains 
to  compile  ; and  then  to  adapt  every  feature  of  their  countenances, 
every  turn  of  their  hands,  every  screwing  of  their  bodies,  every  exercise 
of  their  fans,  to  the  humour  of  the  sentences  they  hear  or  deliver  in 
conversation.  But,  above  all,  to  instruct  them  in  every  species  and 
degree  of  laughing  in  the  proper  seasons,  at  their  own  wit  or  that  of 
the  company.  And  if  the  sons  of  the  nobility  and  gentry,  instead  of 
being  sent  to  common  schools,  or  put  into  the  "hands  of  tutors  at  home 
to  learn  nothing  but  words,  were  consigned  to  able  instructors  in  the 
§ame  art,  I cannot  find  what  use  there  could  be  of  books,  except  in  the 


POLITE  CONVERSATION.  3*9 

bands  of  those  who  are  to  make  learning  their  trade,  which  is  helow 
the  dignity  of  persons  born  to  titles  or  estates. 

It  would  be  another  infinite  advantage  that,  by  cultivating  this  science, 
we  should  wholly  avoid  the  vexations  and  impertinence  of  pedants, 
who  affect  to  talk  in  a language  not  to  be  understood ; and  whenever 
a polite  person  offers  accidentally  to  use  any  of  their  jargon  terms, 
have  the  presumption  to  laugh  at  us  for  pronouncing  those  words  in  a 
genteeler  manner.  Whereas  I do  here  affirm  that,  whenever  any  fine 
gentleman  or  lady  condescends  to  let  a hard  word  pass  out  of  their 
mouths,  every  syllable  is  smoothed  and  polished  in  the  passage  ; and 
it  is  a true  mark  of  politeness  both  in  writing  and  reading  to  vary  the 
orthography  as  well  as  the  sound  ; because  we  are  infinitely  better 
judges  of  what  will  please  a distinguishing  ear  than  those  who  call 
themselves  scholars  can  possibly  be  ; who,  consequently,  ought  to  cor- 
rect their  books,  and  manner  of  pronouncing  by  the  authority  of  our 
example,  from  whose  lips  they  proceed  with  infinitely  more  beauty  and 
significancy. 

But,  in  the  mean  time,  until  so  great,  so  useful,  and  so  necessary  a 
design  can  be  put  in  execution  (which,  considering  the  good  disposition 
of  our  country  at  present,  I shall  not  despair  of  living  to  see)  let  me 
recommend  the  following  treatise  to  be  carried  about  as  a pocket  com- 
panion by  all  gentlemen  and  ladies  when  they  are  going  to  visit,  or  dine, 
or  drink  tea  ; or  where  they  happen  to  pass  the  evening  without  cards, 
as  I have  sometimes  known  it  to  be  the  case  upon  disappointments  or 
accidents  unforeseen  ; desiring  they  would  read  their  several  parts  in 
their  chairs  or  coaches  to  prepare  themselves  for  every  kind  of  conver- 
sation that  can  possibly  happen. 

Although  I have,  in  justice  to  my  country,  allowed  the  genius  of  our 
people  to  excel  that  of  any  other  nation  upon  earth,  and  have  con- 
firmed this  truth  by  an  argument  not  to  be  controlled,  I mean,  by  pro- 
ducing so  great  a number  of  witty  sentences  in  the  ensuing  dialogues, 
all  of  undoubted  authority,  as  well  as  of  our  own  production,  yet  I 
must  confess  at  the  same  time  that  we  are  wholly  indebted  for  them  to 
our  ancestors  ; for  as  long  as  my  memory  reaches,  I do  not  recollect 
one  new  phrase  of  importance  to  have  been  added,  which  defect  in  us 
moderns  I take  to  have  been  occasioned  by  the  introduction  of  cant 
words  in  the  reign  of  King  Charles  the  Second.  And  those  have  so 
often  varied  that  hardly  one  of  them  of  above  a year's  standing  is  now 
intelligible  ; nor  anywhere  to  be  found,  excepting  a small  number 
strewed  here  and  there  in  the  comedies,  and  other  fantastic  writings  of 
that  age. 

The  honourable  Colonel  James  Graham,  my  old  friend  and  com- 
panion, did  likewise  toward  the  end  of  the  same  reign  invent  a set  of 
words  and  phrases,  which  continued  almost  to  the  time  of  his  death. 
But  as  these  terms  of  art  were  adapted  only  to  courts  and  politicians, 
and  extended  little  further  than  among  his  particular  acquaintance  (of 
whom  I had  the  honour  to  be  one),  they  are  now  almost  forgotten. 

Nor  did  the  late  D.  of  R and  E.  of  E succeed  much  better, 

although  they  proceeded  no  further  than  single  words ; whereof,  except 
bite,  bamboozle,  and  one  or  two  more,  the  whole  vocabulary  is  anti- 
quated. 


330 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


The  same  fate  has  already  attended  those  other  town  wits,  who 
furnish  us  with  a great  variety  of  new  terms,  which  are  annually 
changed,  and  those  of  the  last  season  sunk  in  oblivion.  Of  these  I 
was  once  favoured  with  a complete  list  by  the  Right  Honourable  the 

Lord  and  Lady  H , with  which  I made  a considerable  figure  one 

summer  in  the  country  ; but  returning  up  to  town  in  winter,  and  ventur- 
ing to  produce  them  again,  I was  partly  hooted,  and  partly  not  under- 
stood. 

The  only  invention  of  late  years,  which  has  anyway  contributed 
toward  politeness  in  discourse,  is  that  of  abbreviating  or  reducing 
words  of  many  syllables  into  one  by  lopping  off  the  rest.  This  refine- 
ment having  begun  about  the  time  of  the  Revolution,  I had  some  share 
in  the  honour  of  promoting  it ; and  I observe,  to  my  great  satisfaction, 
that  it  makes  daily  advancements,  and  I hope* in  time  will  raise  our 
language  to  the  utmost  perfection  ; although  I must  confess,  to  avoid 
obscurity,  I have  been  very  sparing  of  this  ornament  in  the  following 
dialogues. 

But,  as  for  phrases  invented  to  cultivate  conversation,  I defy  all  the 
clubs  of  coffee-houses  in  this  town  to  invent  a new  one  equal  in  wit, 
humour,  smartness,  or  politeness,  to  the  very  worst  of  my  set ; which 
clearly  shows  either  that  we  are  much  degenerated,  or  that  the  whole 
stock  of  materials  has  been  already  employed.  I would  willingly  hope, 
as  I do  confidently  believe,  the  latter;  because,  having  myself  for 
several  months  racked  my  invention  to  enrich  this  treasure  (if  possible) 
with  some  additions  of  my  own  (which,  however,  should  have  been  printed 
in  a different  character  that  I might  not  be  charged  with  imposing  upon : 
the  public),  and  having  shown  them  to  some  judicious  friends,  they 
dealt  very  sincerely  with  me,  all  unanimously  agreeing  that  mine  were 
infinitely  below  the  true  old  helps  to  discourse  drawn  up  in  my  present  * 
collection,  and  confirmed  their  opinion  with  reasons,  by  which  I was 
perfectly  convinced  as  well  as  ashamed  of  my  great  presumption. 

But  I lately  met  a much  stronger  argument  to  confirm  me  in  the 
same  sentiments  ; for,  as  the  great  Bishop  Burnet  of  Salisbury  informs 
us  in  the  preface  to  his  admirable  History  of  his  own  Times,  that  he  in- 
tended to  employ  himself  in  polishing  it  every  day  of  his  life  (and  indeed 
in  its  kind  it  is  almost  equally  polished  with  this  work  of  mine),  so  it  has 
been  my  constant  business  for  some  years  past  to  examine,  with  the 
utmost  strictness,  whether  I could  possibly  find  the  smallest  lapse  in'; 
style  or  propriety  through  my  whole  collection,  that,  in  emulation  with 
the  bishop,  I might  send  it  abroad  as  the  most  finished  piece  of  the 
age. 

It  happened  one  day,  as  I was  dining  in  good  company  of  both  sexes, 
and  watching  according  to  my  custom  for  new  materials  wherewith  to 
fill  my  pocket-book,  I succeeded  well  enough  till  after  dinner,  when  the 
ladies  retired  to  their  tea,  and  left  us  over  a bottle  of  wine.  But  I found 
we  were  not  able  to  turnish  any  more  materials  that  were  worth  the 
pains  of  transcribing  ; for  the  discourse  of  the  company  was  all  dege- 
nerated into  smart  sayings  of  their  own  invention,  and  not  of  the  true 
old  standard  ; so  that  in  absolute  despair  I withdrew,  and  went  to 
attend  the  ladies  at  their  tea,  whence  I did  then  conclude,  and  still 
sontinue  to  believe,  either  that  wine  does  not  inspire  politeness,  or  that 


POLITE  CONVERSATION.  33v 

our  sex  is  not  able  to  support  it  without  the  company  of  women,  who 
never  fail  to  lead  us  into  the  right  way,  and  there  to  keep  us. 

It  much  increases  the  value  of  these  apophthegms,  that  unto  them 
we  owe  the  continuance  of  our  language  for  at  least  a hundred  years  ; 
neither  is  this  to  be  wondered  at,  because,  indeed,  beside  the  smartness 
of  the  wit  and  fineness  of  the  raillery,  such  is  the  propriety  and  energy  of 
expression  in  them  all,  that  they  never  can  be  changed,  but  to  disad- 
vantage, except  in  the  circumstance  of  using  abbreviations  ; which, 
however,  I do  not  despair  in  due  time  to  see  introduced,  having  already 
met  them  at  some  of  the  choice  companies  in  town. 

Although  this  work  be  calculated  for  all  persons  of  quality  and  fortune 
of  both  sexes  ; yet  the  reader  may  perceive,  that  my  particular  view 
was  to  the  officers  of  the  army,  the  gentlemen  of  the  inns  of  court,  and 
of  both  the  universities ; to  all  courtiers,  male  and  female  ; but  princi- 
pally to  the  maids  of  honour ; of  whom  I have  been  personally  ac- 
quainted with  two  and  twenty  sets,  all  excelling  in  this  noble  endowment; 
till,  for  some  years  past,  I know  not  how,  they  came  to  degenerate  into 
selling  of  bargains  and  free-thinking  : not  that  I am  against  either  of 
these  entertainments  at  proper  seasons  in  compliance  with  company, 
who  may  want  a taste  for  more  exalted  discourse,  whose  memories  may 
be  short,  who  are  too  young  to  be  perfect  in  their  lessons,  or  (although 
it  be  hard  to  conceive)  who  have  no  inclination  to  read  and  learn  my 
instructions.  And  besides,  there  is  a strong  temptation  for  court  ladies 
to  fall  into  the  two  amusements  above  mentioned,  that  they  may  avoid 
the  censure  of  affecting  singularity  against  the  general  current  and 
fashion  of  all  about  them  : but,  however,  no  man  will  pretend  to  affirm 
that  either  bargains  or  blasphemy,  which  are  the  principal  ornaments 
of  freethinking,  are  so  good  a fund  of  polite  discourse,  as  what  is  to  be 
met  with  in  my  collection.  For,  as  to  bargains,  few  of  them  seem  to  be 
excellent  in  their  kind,  and  have  not  much  variety,  because  they  all  ter- 
minate in  one  single  point ; and  to  multiply  them  would  require  more 
invention  than  people  have  to  spare.  And  as  to  blasphemy  or  free- 
thinking,  I have  known  some  scrupulous  persons  of  both  sexes,  who  by 
a prejudiced  education  are  afraid  of  sprites.  I must,  however,  except 
the  maids  of  honour,  who  have  been  fully  convinced  by  a famous  court 
chaplain,  that  there  is  no  such  place  as  Hell. 

I cannot  indeed  controvert  the  lawfulness  of  freethinking,  because  it 
has  been  universally  allowed  that  thought  is  free.  But  however, 
although  it  may  afford  a large  field  of  matter,  yet  in  my  poor  opinion  it 
seems  to  contain  very  little  of  wit  or  humour  ; because  it  has  not  been 
ancient  enough  among  us  to  furnish  established  authentic  expressions,  I 
mean  such  as  must  receive  a sanction  from  the  polite  world  before  their 
authority  can  be  allowed  ; neither  was  the  art  of  blasphemy  or  free- 
thinking  invented  by  the  court,  or  by  persons  of  great  quality  ; who, 
properly  speaking,  were  patrons  rather  than  inventors  of  it  : but  first 
brought  in  by  the  fanatic  faction  toward  the  end  of  their  power,  and 
after  the  Restoration  carried  to  Whitehall  by  the  converted  rumpers, 
with  very  good  reason  ; because  they  knew,  that  king  Charles  the 
Second,  trom  a wrong  education,  occasioned  by  the  troubles  of  his 
father,  had  time  enough  to  observe,  that  fanatic  enthusiasm  directly 
led  to  atheism,  which  agreed  with  the  dissolute  inclinations  of  his  youth; 


332 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


and  perhaps  these  principles  were  further  cultivated  in  him  by  the 
French  Huguenots,  who  have  been  often  charged  with  spreading  them 
among  us  : however,  I cannot  see  where  the  necessity  lies  of  intro- 
ducing new  and  foreign  topics  for  conversation,  while  we  have  so  plenti- 
ful a stock  of  our  own  growth. 

I have  likewise,  for  some  reasons  of  equal  weight,  been  very  sparing 
in  double  entendres  : because  they  often  put  ladies  upon  affected  con- 
straints, and  affected  ignorance.  In  short,  they  break,  or  very  much 
entangle,  the  thread  of  discourse  ; neither  am  I master  of  any  rules  to 
settle  the  disconcerted  countenances  of  the  females  in  such  a juncture  ; 

I can  therefore  only  allow  innuendoes  of  this  kind  to  be  delivered 
in  whispers,  and  only  to  young  ladies  under  twenty,  who  being  in  honour 
obliged  to  blush,  it  may  produce  a new  subject  for  discourse. 

Perhaps  the  critics  may  accuse  me  of  a defect  in  my  following  system 
of  Polite  Conversation  ; that  there  is  one  great  ornament  of  discourse, 
whereof  I have  not  produced  a single  example ; which  indeed  I pur- 
posely omitted,  for  some  reasons  that  I shall  immediately  offer,  and,  if 
those  reasons  will  not  satisfy  the  male  part  of  my  gentle  readers, 
the  defect  may  be  applied  in  some  manner  by  an  appendix  to  the  second 
edition  ; which  appendix  shall  be  printed  by  itself,  and  sold  for  sixpence, 
stitched,  and  with  a marble  cover,  that  my  readers  may  have  no  occasion  , 
to  complain  of  being  defrauded. 

The  defect  I mean  is,  my  not  having  inserted  into  the  body  of  my 
book  all  the  oaths  now  most  in  fashion  for  embellishing  discourse  ; es- 
pecially since  it  could  give  no  offence  to  the  clergy,  who  are  seldom  or  , 
never  admitted  to  these  polite  assemblies.  And  it  must  be  allowed, 
that  oaths  well  chosen  are  not  only  very  useful  expletives  to  matter,  but 
great  ornaments  of  style.  j 

What  I shall  here  offer  in  my  own  defence  upon  this  important  , 
article  will  I hope,  be  some  extenuation  of  my  fault. 

First,  I reasoned  with  myself,  that  a just  collection  of  oaths,  repeated 
as  often  as  the  fashion  requires,  must  have  enlarged  this  volume  at 
least  to  double  the  bulk  ; whereby  it  would  not  only  double  the  charge, 
but  likewise  make  the  volume  less  commodious  for  pocket  carriage. 

Secondly,  I have  been  assured  by  some  judicious  friends,  that  them- 
selves have  known  certain  ladies  to  take  offence  (whether  seriously  or 
not)  at  too  great  a profusion  of  cursing  and  swearing,  even  when  that  , 
kind  of  ornament  was  not  improperly  introduced  ; which,  I confess,  did 
startle  me  not  a little,  having  never  observed  the  like  in  the  compass  of 
my  own  several  acquaintance,  at  least  for  twenty  years  past.  How- 
ever, I was  forced  to  submit  to  wiser  judgments  than  my  own. 

Thirdly,  as  this  most  useful  treatise  is  calculated  for  all  future  times, 

I considered,  in  this  maturity  of  my  age,  how  great  a variety  of  oaths  I 
have  heard  since  I began  to  study  the  world,  and  to  know  men  and 
manners.  And  here  I found  it  to  be  true,  what  I have  read  in  an 
ancient  poet ; 

For  nowadays  men  change  their  oatlii, 

As  often  as  they  change  their  clothes. 

In  short,  oaths  are  the  children  of  fashion  ; they  are  in  some  sense 
almost  annuals,  like  what  1 observed  before  of  cant  words ; and  I my- 


POLITE  CONVERSATION. 


335 


self  can  remember  about  forty  different  sets.  The  old  stock  oaths,  I 
am  confident,  do  not  amount  to  above  forty-five,  or  fifty  at  most  ; but 
the  way  of  mingling  and  compounding  them  is  almost  as  various  as  that 
of  the  alphabet. 

Sir  John  Perrot  was  the  first  man  of  quality,  whom  I find  upon 
record  to  have  sworn  by  God's  wounds.  He  lived  in  the  reign  of  queen 
Elizabeth,  and  was  supposed  to  be  a natural  son  of  Henry  the  Eighth, 
who  might  also  probably  have  been  his  instructor.  This  oath  indeed 
still  continues,  and  is  a stock  oath  to  this  day  ; so  do  several  others 
that  have  kept  their  natural  simplicity  ; but  infinitely  the  greater 
number  has  been  so  frequently  changed  and  dislocated,  that  if  the  in- 
ventors were  now  alive,  they  could  hardly  understand  them. 

Upon  these  considerations  I began  to  apprehend,  that  if  I should 
insert  all  the  oaths  that  are  now  current,  my  book  would  be  out  of 
vogue  with  the  first  change  of  fashion,  and  grow  as  useless  as  an  old 
dictionary  ; whereas  the  case  is  quite  otherwise  with  my  collection  of 
polite  discourse  ; which,  as  I before  observed,  has  descended  by  tradi- 
tion for  at  least  a hundred  years  without  any  change  in  the  phraseology. 
I therefore  determined  with  myself  to  leave  out  the  whole  system  of 
swearing  ; because  both  the  male  and  female  oaths  are  all  perfectly  well 
known  and  distinguished  ; new  ones  are  easily  learnt,  and  with  a 
moderate  share  of  discretion  may  be  properly  applied  on  every  fit 
occasion.  However,  I must  here  upon  this  article  of  swearing  most 
earnestly  recommend  to  my  male  readers,  that  they  would  please  a 
little  to  study  variety.  For  it  is  the  opinion  of  our  most  refined 
swearers,  that  the  same  oath  or  curse  cannot  consistently  with  true 
politeness,  he  repeated  above  nine  times  in  the  same  company,  by  the 
same  person,  and  at  one  sitting. 

I am  far  from  desiring,  or  expecting,  that  all  the  polite  and  ingenious 
speeches  contained  in  this  work  should,  in  the  general  conversation 
between  ladies  and  gentlemen,  come  in  so  quick  and  so  close  as  I have 
here  delivered  them.  By  no  means  ; on  the  contrary,  they  ought  to  be 
husbanded  better,  and  spread  much  thinner.  Nor  do  I make  the  least 
question,  but  that,  by  a discreet  and  thrifty  management,  they  may 
serve  for  the  entertainment  of  a whole  year  to  any  person,  who  does  not 
make  too  long  or  too  frequent  visits  in  the  same  family.  The  flowers  of 
wit,  fancy,  wisdom,  humour,  and  politeness,  scattered  in  this  volume, 
amount  to  one  thousand  seventy  and  four.  Allowing  then  to  every 
gentleman  and  lady  thirty  visiting  families,  not  insisting  upon  fractions, 
there  will  want  but  a little  of  a hundred  polite  questions,  answers, 
replies,  rejoinders,  repartees,  and  remarks,  to  be  daily  delivered  fresh  in 
every  company  for  twelve  solar  months  ; and  even  this  is  a higher  pitch 
of  delicacy  than  the  world  insists  on,  or  has  reason  to  expect.  But  i 
am  altogether  for  exalting  this  science  to  its  utmost  perfection. 

It  may  be  objected  that  the  publication  of  my  book,  may,  in  a long 
course  of  time,  prostitute  this  noble  art  to  mean  and  vulgar  people  ; but 
I answer,  that  it  is  not  so  easy  an  acquirement  as  a few  ignorant  pre- 
tenders may  imagine.  A footman  can  swear,  but  he  cannot  swear  like 
a lord.  He  can  swear  as  often  ; but  can  he  swear  with  'equal  delicacy, 
propriety,  and  judgment  ? No,  certainly,  unless  he  be  a lad  of  superior 
parts,  of  good  memory,  a diligent  observer,  one  who  has  a skilful  ear, 


334 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


some  knowledge  in  music,  and  an  exact  taste  ; which  hardly  fall  to  tha 
share  of  one  in  a thousand  among  that  fraternity,  in  as  high  favour 
as  they  now  stand  wjth  their  ladies.  Neither  has  one  footman  in  six  so 
fine  a genius  as  to  relish  and  apply  those  exalted  sentences  comprised 
in  this  volume,  which  I offer  to  the  world.  It  is  true,  I cannot  see  that 
the  same  ill  consequences  would  follow  from  the  waiting  woman,  who, 
if  she  had  been  bred  to  read  romances,  may  have  some  small  subaltern 
or  secondhand  politeness  ; and  if  she  constantly  attends  the  tea,  and  be 
a good  listener,  may  in  some  years  make  a tolerable  figure,  which  will 
serve  perhaps  to  draw  in  the  young  chaplain,  or  the  old  steward.  But 
alas  ! after  all,  how  can  she  acquire  those  hundred  graces,  and  motions, 
and  airs,  the  whole  military  management  of  the  fan,  the  contortions  of 
every  muscular  motion  in  the  face,  the  risings  and  fallings,  the  quick- 
ness and  slowness  of  the  voice,  with  the  several  turns  and  cadences  ; 
the  proper  junctures  of  smiling  and  frowning,  how  often  and  how  loud 
to  laugh,  when  to  gibe  and  when  to  flout,  with  all  the  other  branches  of 
doctrine  and  discipline  above  recited  ? 

I am  therefore  not  under  the  least  apprehension,  that  this  art  will 
ever  be  in  danger  of  falling  into  common  hands,  which  requires  so 
much  time,  study,  practice  and  genius,  before  it  arrives  at  perfection,  and 
therefore  I must  repeat  my  proposal  for  erecting  public  schools,  pro- 
vided with  the  best  and  ablest  masters  and  mistresses,  at  the  charge  of 
the  nation. 

I have  drawn  this  work  into  the  form  of  a dialogue,  after  the  pattern 
of  other  famous  writers  in  history,  law,  politics,  and  most  other  arts  and 
sciences,  and  I hope  it  will  have  the  same  success,  for  who  can  contest  j 
it  to  be  of  greater  consequence  to  the  happiness  of  these  kingdoms  than 
all  human  knowledge  put  together  ? Dialogue  is  held  the  best  method 
of  inculcating  any  part  of  knowledge  ; and  I am  confident,  that  public  i 
schools  will  soon  be  founded  for  teaching  wit  and  politeness,  after  my 
scheme,  to  young  people  of  quality  and  fortune.  I have  determined 
next  sessions  to  deliver  a petition  to  the  House  of  Lords,  for  an  act  of 
parliament  to  establish  my  book  as  the  standard  grammar  in  all  the 
principal  cities  of  the  kingdom,  where  this  art  is  to  be  taught  by  able 
masters,  who  are  to  be  approved  and  recommended  by  me,  which  is  no 
more  than  Lilly  obtained  only  for  teaching  words  in  a language  wholly 
useless.  Neither  shall  I be  so  far  wanting  to  myself,  as  not  to  desire  a 
patent,  granted  of  course  to  all  useful  projectors  ; I mean,  that  I may  l 
have  the  sole  profit  of  giving  a licence  to  every  school  to  read  my 
grammar  for  fourteen  years. 

The  reader  cannot  but  observe  what  pains  I have  been  at  in  polish-  j 

ing  the  style  of  my  book  to  the  greatest  exactness  ; nor  have  I been 
less  diligent  in  refining  the  orthography,  by  spelling  the  words  in  the 
very  same  manner  as  they  are  pronounced  by  the  chief  patterns  of 
politeness  at  court,  at  levees,  at  assemblies,  at  playhouses,  at  the  prime 
visiting-places,  by  young  templars,  and  by  gentlemen  commoners  of 
both  universities,  who  have  lived  at  least  atwelvemonth  in  town,  and  kept 
the  best  company.  Of  these  spellings  the  public  will  meet  with  many 
examples  in  the  following  book.  For  instance,  cartt,  han'ty  shan't , 
aidrtt,  c out  chit,  wouldrit,  isn't , en't,  with  many  more  ; beside  several 
words  which  scholars  pretend  are  derived  from  Greek  and  Latin,  but 


POLITE  CONVERSATION. 


335 


now  pared  into  a polite  sound  by  ladies,  officers  of  the  army,  courtiers 
and  templars,  such  as  jommetry , for  geometry , vardi  for  verdict , 
for  teamen  for  teaming ; together  with  some  abbreviations  ex- 
quisitely refined—  as  pozz  for  positive  ; mobb  for  mobile  ; phizz  for 
physiognomy ; rep  for  reputation  ; plenipo  fox  plenipotentiary  ; incog,  for 
incognito ; hypps , or  hippo  for  hyphochondriacs ; bam  for  bamboozle ; and 
bamboozle  for  God  knows  what ; whereby  much  time  is  saved,  and  the 
high  road  to  conversation  cut  short  by  many  a mile. 

I have,  as  it  will  be  apparent,  laboured  very  much,  and  I hope,  with 
* felicity  enough,  to  make  every  character  in  the  dialogue  agreeable  with 
itself  to  a degree,  that  whenever  any  judicious  person  shall  read  my 
book  aloud  for  the  entertainment  and  instruction  of  a select  company, 
he  need  not  so  much  as  name  the  particular  speakers,  because  all  the 
persons  throughout  the  several  subjects  of  conversation  strictly  observe 
a different  manner  peculiar  to  their  characters,  which  are  of  different 
kinds,  but  this  I leave  entirely  to  the  prudent  and  impartial  reader's 
discernment. 

Perhaps  the  very  manner  of  introducing  the  several  points  of  wit 
and  humour,  may  not  be  less  entertaining  and  instructing  than  the 
matter  itself.  In  the  latter  I can  pretend  to  little  merit;  because  it  en- 
tirely depends  upon  memory,  and  the  happiness  of  having  kept  polite 
company  ; but  the  art  of  contriving  that  those  speeches  should  be  in- 
troduced naturally,  as  the  most  proper  sentiments  to  be  delivered  upon 
so  great  a variety  of  subjects,  I take  to  be  a talent  somewhat  uncom- 
mon, and  a labour  that  few  people  could  hope  to  succeed  in,  unless 
they  had  a genius  particularly  turned  that  way,  added  to  a sincere  dis- 
interested love  of  the  public. 

Although  every  curious  question,  smart  answer,  and  witty  reply,  be 
little  known  to  many  people,  yet  there  is  not  one  single  sentence  in  the 
whole  collection,,  for  which  I cannot  bring  most  authentic  vouchers, 
whenever  I shall  be  called  ; and  even  for  some  expressions,  which  to  a 
few  nice  ears  may  perhaps  appear  somewhat  gross,  I can  produce  the 
stamp  of  authority  from  courts,  chocolate-houses,  theatres,  assemblies, 
drawing-rooms,  levdes,  card-meetings,  balls,  and  masquerades,  from 
persons  of  both  sexes,  and  of  the  highest  titles  next  to  royal.  How- 
ever, to  say  the  truth,  I have  been  very  sparing  in  my  quotations 
of  such  sentiments  that  seem  to  be  over  free,  because  when  I began  my 
collection,  such  kind  of  converse  was  almost  in  its  infancy,  till  it  was 
taken  into  the  protection  of  my  honoured  patronesses  at  court,  by  whose 
countenance  and  sanction  it  has  become  a choice  flower  in  the  nose- 
gay of  wit  and  politeness. 

Some  will  perhaps  object,  that  when  I bring  my  company  to  dinner, 
I mention  too  great  a variety  of  dishes,  not  always  consistent  with  the 
art  of  cookery,  or  proper  for  the  season  of  the  year,  and  part  of  the  first 
course  mingled  with  the  second,  beside  a failure  in  politeness  by  in- 
troducing a black  pudding  to  a lord's  table,  and  at  a great  entertain- 
ment ; but,  if  I had  omitted  the  black  pudding,  I desire  to  know  what 
would  have  become  of  that  exquisite  reason  given  by  Miss  Notable  for 
not  eating  it ; the  world  perhaps  might  have  lost  it  for  ever,  and  I 
should  have  been  justly  answerable  for  having  left  it  out  of  my  collec- 
tion. I therefore  cannot  but  hope  that  such  hypercritical  readers  will 


S3« 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS . 


please  to  consider,  my  business  was  to  make  so  full  and  complete  a 
body  of  refined  sayings  as  compact  as  I could,  only  taking  care  to  pro- 
duce them  in  the  most  natural  and  probable  manner,  in  order  to  allure 
my  readers  into  the  very  substance  and  marrow  of  this  most  admirable 
and  necessary  art. 

I am  heartily  sorry,  and  was  much  disappointed  to  find  that  so  uni- 
versal and  polite  an  entertainment  as  cards  has  hitherto  contributed 
very  little  to  the  enlargement  of  my  work.  I have  sat  by  many 
hundred  times  with  the  utmost  vigilance,  and  my  table  book  ready, 
without  being  able,  in  eight  hours,  to  gather  matter  for  one  single 
phrase  in  my  book.  But  this  I think  maybe  easily  accounted  for  by  the 
turbulence  and  justling  of  passions,  upon  the  various  and  surprising 
turns,  incidents,  revolutions,  and  events  of  good  and  evil  fortune,  that 
arrive  in  the  course  of  a long  evening  at  play,  the  mind  being  wholly 
taken  up,  and  the  consequences  of  non-attention  so  fatal. 

Play  is  supported  upon  the  two  great  pillars  of  deliberation  and 
action.  The  terms  of  art  are  few,  prescribed  by  law  and  custom  ; no 
time  allowed  for  digressions  or  trials  of  wit.  Quadrille  in  particular 
bears  some  resemblance  to  a state  of  nature,  which  we  are  told  is  a 
state  of  war,  wherein  every  woman  is  against  every  woman  ; the  unions 
short,  inconstant,  and  soon  broke  ; the  league  made  this  minute  with- 
out knowing  the  ally,  and  dissolved  in  the  next.  Thus,  at  the  game  of 
quadrille,  female  brains  are  always  employed  in  stratagem,  or  their 
hands  in  action.  Neither  can  I find  that  our  art  has  gained  much  by 
the  happy  revival  of  masquerading  among  us,  the  whole  dialogue  in 
those  meetings  being  summed  up  in  one,  sprightly,  I confess,  but 
single  question,  and  as  sprightly  an  answer.  “ Do  you  know  me  ?” 
/‘Yes,  I do.”  And,  “ Do  you  know  me  ?”  “Yes,  I do.”  For  this 
reason  I did  not  think  it  proper  to  give  my  readers  the  trouble  of  in-  < 
troducing  a masquerade,  merely  for  the  sake  of  a single  question  and  a 
single  answer ; especially,  when  to  perform  this  in  a proper  manner,  I 
must  have  brought  in  a hundred  persons  together,  of  both  sexes, 
dressed  in  fantastic  habits  for  one  minutei  and  dismiss  them  the  next. 

Neither  is  it  reasonable  to  conceive  that  our  science  can  be  much  im- 
proved by  masquerades,  where  the  wit  of  both  sexes  is  altogether  taken 
up  in  contriving  singular  and  humorous  disguises  ; and  their  thoughts 
entirely  employed  in  bringing  intrigues  and  assignations  of  gallantry  to 
a happy  conclusion.  \ 

The  judicious  reader  will  readily  discover  that  I make  Miss  Notable 
my  heroine,  and  Mr.  Thomas  Neverout  my  hero.  1 have  laboured 
both  their  characters  with  my  utmost  ability.  It  is  into  their  mouths 
that  I have  put  the  liveliest  questions,  answers,  repartees,  and  re- 
joinders ; because  my  design  was,  to  propose  them  both  as  patterns, 
’for  all  young  bachelors,  and  single  ladies,  to  copy  after.  By  which  I 
hope  very  soon  to  see  polite  conversation  flourish  between  both  sexes, 
in  a more  consummate  degree  of  perfection,  than  these  kingdoms  have 
yet  ever  known. 

I have  drawn  some  lines  of  Sir  John  Lingers  character,  the  Derby- 
shire Knight,  on  purpose  to  place  it  in  counterview  or  contrast  with 
that  of  the  other  company  ; wherein  I can  assure  the  reader,  that  I in- 
tended not  the  least  reflection  upon  Derbyshire,  the  place  of  my  nati* 


POLITE  CONVERSATION. 


337 


vity  5 but  my  intention  was  only  to  show  the  misfortune  of  those 
persons  who  have  the  disadvantage  to  be  bred  out  of  the  circle  of  po- 
liteness, whereof  I take  the  present  limits  to  extend  no  further  than 
London,  and  ten  miles  round  ; although  others  are  pleased  to  confine 
it  within  the  bills  of  mortality.  If  you  compare  the  discourses  of  my 
gentlemen  and  ladies,  with  those  of  Sir  John,  you  will  hardly  con- 
ceive him  to  have  been  bred  in  the  same  climate,  or  under  the  same 
laws,  language,  religion,  or  government:  and  accordingly  I have  intro- 
duced him  speaking  in  his  own  rude  dialect,  for  no  other  reason  than  to 
teach  my  scholars  how  to  avoid  it. 

The  curious  reader  will  observe,  that  when  conversation  appears  in 
danger  to  flag,  which  in  some  places  I have  artfully  contrived,  I took 
care  to  invent  some  sudden  question,  or  turn  of  wit,  to  revive  it ; such 
as  these  that  follow  : “ What  ? I think  here’s  a silent  meeting  ! Come, 
madam,  a penny  for  your  thought with  several  others  of  the  like 
sort.  I have  rejected  all  provincial  or  country  turns  of  wit  and  fancy, 
because  I am  acquainted  with  very  few ; but  indeed  chiefly,  because  I 
found  them  so  much  inferior  to  those  at  court,  especially  among  the 
gentlemen  ushers,  the  ladies  of  the  bedchamber,  and  the  maids  of 
honour  ; I must  also  add  the  hither  end  of  our  noble  metropolis. 

When  this  happy  art  of  polite  conversing  shall  be  thoroughly  im- 
proved, good  company  will  be  no  longer  pestered  with  dull,  dry,  tedious 
story-tellers,  nor  brangling  disputers:  for  a right  scholar  of  either  sex 
in  our  science,  will  perpetually  interrupt  them  with  some  sudden  sur- 
prising piece  of  wit  that  shall  engage  all  the  company  in  a loud  laugh  ; 
and  if,  after  a pause,  the  grave  companion  resumes  his  thread  in  the 
following  manner  * “ Well,  but  to  go  on  with  my  story,”  new  interrup- 
tions come  from  the  left  and  the  right,  till  he  is  forced  to  give  over. 

I have  likewise  made  some  few  essays  towrard  the  selling  of  bargains, 
as  well  for  instructing  those  who  delight  in  that  accomplishment, 
as  in  compliance  with  my  female  friends  at  court.  However,  I have 
transgressed  a little  in  this  point,  by  doing  it  in  a manner  somewhat 
more  reserved  than  it  is  now  practised  at  St.  James’s.  At  the  same  time 
I can  hardly  allow  this  accomplishment  to  pass  properly  for  a branch  of 
that  perfect  polite  conversation,  which  makes  the  constituent  subject  of 
my  treatise  ; and  for  this  1 have  already  given  my  reasons.  I have 
likewise,  for  further  caution,  left  a blank  in  the  critical  point  of  each 
bargain,  which  the  sagacious  reader  may  fill  up  in  his  own  mind. 

As  to  myself,  I am  proud  to  own,  that  except  some  smattering  in  the 
French,  I am  what  the  pedants  and  scholars  call  a man  wholly  illiterate, 
that  is  to  say,  unlearned.  But  as  to  my  own  language,.  I shall  not 
readily  yield  to  many  persons.  I have  read  most  of  the  plays  and  all 
the  miscellany  poems,  that  have  been  published  for  twenty  years  past. 
I have  read  Mr.  Thomas  Brown’s  Works  entire,  and  had  the  honour  to 
be  his  intimate  friend,  who  was  universally  allowed  to  be  the  greatest 
§ enius  ot  his  age. 

Upon  what  foot  I stand  with  the  present  chief  reigning  wits,  their 
verses  recommendatory,  which  they  have  commanded  me  to  prefix  be- 
fore my  book,  will  be  more  than  a thousand  witnesses:  I am,  and  have 
been,  likewise  particularly  acquainted  with  Mr.  Charles  Gildon,  Mr, 
Ward,  Mr.  Dennis,  that  admirable  critic  and  ooet,  and  several  others 

32 


33* 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


Each  of  these  eminent  persons  (I  mean  those  who  are  still  alive)  hav# 
done  me  the  honour  to  read  this  production  five  times  over,  with  the 
strictest  eye  of  friendly  severity,  and  proposed  some,  although  very  few 
amendments,  which  I gratefully  accepted,  and  do  here  publicly  return  my 
acknowledgment  for  so  singular  a favour. 

And  I cannot  conceal,  without  ingratitude,  the  great  assistance  I have 
received  from  those  two  illustrious  writers,  Mr.  Ozell,  and  Captain 
Stevens.  These,  and  some  others  of  distinguished  eminence,  in  whose 
company  I have  passed  so  many  agreeable  hours,  as  they  have  been 
the  great  refiners  of  our  language,  so  it  has  been  my  chief  ambition  to 
imitate  them.  Let  the  Popes,  the  Gays,  the  Arbuthnots,  the  Youngs, 
and  the  rest  of  that  snarling  brood,  burst  with  envy  at  the  praises  we 
receive  from  the  court  and  kingdom. 

But  to  return  from  this  digression. 

The  reader  will  find  that  the  following  collection  of  polite  expressions 
will  easily  incorporate  with  all  subjects  of  genteel  and  fashionable  life. 
Those  which  are  proper  for  morning  tea,  will  be  equally  useful  at  the 
same  entertainment  in  the  afternoon,  even  in  the  same  company,  only 
by  shifting  the  several  questions,  answers,  and  replies,  into  different 
hands  ; and  such  as  are  adapted  to  meals  will  indifferently  serve  for 
dinners  or  suppers,  only  distinguishing  between  daylight  and  candle- 
light. By  this  method  no  diligent  person  of  a tolerable  memory  can 
ever  be  at  a loss. 

It  has  been  my  constant  opinion,  that  every  man,  who  is  intrusted 
by  nature  with  any  useful  talent  of  the  mind,  is  bound  by  all  the  ties 
of  honour,  and  that  justice  which  we  all  owe  our  country,  to  propose  to  \ 

himself  some  one  illustrious  action  to  be  performed  in  his  life,  for  the 
public  emolument:  and  I freely  confess  that  so  grand,  so  important  an 
enterprise  as  I have  undertaken,  and  executed  to  the  best  of  my  power,  i 
well  deserved  a much  abler  hand,  as  well  as  a liberal  encouragement  ? 
from  the  crown.  However,  I am  bound  so  far  to  acquit  myself,  as  to 
declare,  that  I have  often  and  most  earnestly  entreated  several  of  my 
above-named  friends,  universally  allowed  to  be  of  the  first  rank  in  wit 
and  politeness,  that  they  would  undertake  a work  so  honourable  to 
diemselves,  and  so  beneficial  to  the  kingdom ; but  so  great  was  their 
modesty,  that  they  all  thought  fit  to  excuse  themselves,  and  impose  the 
task  on  me  ; yet  in  so  obliging  a manner,  and  attended  with  such  com- 
pliments  on  my  poor  qualifications,  that  I dare  not  repeat.  And  at 
last  their  entreaties,  or  rather  their  commands,  added  to  that  inviolable 
love  I bear  to  the  land  of  my  nativity,  prevailed  upon  me  to  engage  in 
so  bold  an  attempt. 

I may  venture  to  affirm,  without  the  least  violation  of  modesty,  that 
there  is  no  man  now  alive,  who  has  by  many  degrees  so  just  pretensions 
as  myself  to  the  highest  encouragement  from  the  crown,  the  parlia^ 
ment  and  the  ministry,  toward  bringing  this  work  to  due  perfection. 

I have  been  assured  that  several  great  heroes  of  antiquity  were  wor- 
shipped as  gods,  upon  the  merit  of  having  civilized  a fierce  and  bar- 
barous people.  It  is  manifest  I could  have  no  other  intentions  ; and 
I dare  appeal  to  my  very  enemies,  if  such  a treatise  as  mine  had  been 
published  some  years  ago,  and  with  as  much  success  as  I am  confident 
this  will  meet,  I mean,  by  turning  the  thoughts  of  the  whole  nobility 


339 


POLITE  CONVERSATION, i 

* 

and  gentry  to  the  study  and  practice  of  polite  conversation  ; whether 
such  mean  stupid  writers  as  the  Craftsman,  and  his  abettors,  could 
have  been  able  to  corrupt  the  principles  of  so  many  hundred  thousand 
subjects,  as,  to  the  shame  and  grief  of  every  whiggish,  loyal,  and  true 
Protestant  heart,  it  is  too  manifest  they  have  done.  For  I desire  the 
honest  judicious  reader  to  make  one  remark,  that,  after  having  ex- 
hausted the  whole  in  sickly  pay-day*  (if  I may  so  call  it)  of  politeness 
and  refinement,  and  faithfully  digested  it  into  the  following  dialogues, 
there  cannot  be  found  one  expression  relating  to  politics  ; that  the 
ministry  is  never  mentioned,  nor  the  word  king  above  twice  or  thrice, 
and  then  only  to  the  honour  of  his  majesty  ; so  very  cautious  were  our 
wiser  ancestors  in  forming  rules  for  conversation,  as  never  to  give 
offence  to  crowned  heads,  nor  interfere  with  party-disputes  in  the  state. 
And,  indeed,  although  there  seems  to  be  a close  resemblance  between 
the  two  words  politeness  and  politics,  yet  no  ideas  are  more  inconsis- 
tent in  their  natures.  However,  to  avoid  all  appearance  of  disaffec- 
tion, I have  taken  care  to  enforce  loyalty  by  an  invincible  argument, 
drawn  from  the  very  fountain  of  this  noble  science,  in  the  following 
short  terms,  that  ought  to  writ  in  gold,  “ Must  is  for  the  king  ” 
which  uncontrollable  maxim  I took  particular  care  of  introducing  in 
the  first  page  of  my  book,  thereby  to  instil  early  the  best  Protestant 
loyal  notions  into  the  minds  of  my  readers.  Neither  is  it  merely  my 
own  private  opinion,  that  politeness  is  the  firmest  foundation  upon 
which  loyalty  can  be  supported  ; for  thus  happily  sings  the  divine  Mr. 
Tibbalds,  or  Theobalds,  in  one  of  his  birth-day  poems  ; 

I am  no  scollard,  but  I am  polite  : 

Therefore  be  sure  I’m  no  Jacobite. 

Hear  likewise  to  the  same  purpose  that  great  master  of  the  whole 
poetic  choir,  our  most  illustrious  laureate  Mr.  Colley  Cibber : 

Who  in  his  talk  can’t  speak  a polite  thing. 

Will  never  loyal  be  to  George  our  king. 

I could  produce  many  more  shining  passages  out  of  our  principal 
poets  of  both  sexes  to  confirm  this  momentous  truth.  Whence  I think 
it  may  be  fairly  concluded,  that  whoever  can  most  contribute  toward 
propagating  the  science  contained  in  the  following  sheets  through  the 
kingdoms  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland,  may  justly  demand  all  the 
favour  that  the  wisest  court  and  most  judicious  senate  are  able  to  con- 
fer on  the  most  deserving  subject.  I leave  the  application  to  my 
readers. 

This  is  the  work  which  I have  been  so  hardy  as  to  attempt,  and 
without  tfce  least  mercenary  view.  Neither  do  I doubt  of  succeeding 
to  my  full  wish,  except  among  the  Tories  and  their  abettors,  who,  being 
all  Jacobites,  and  consequently  Papists  in  their  hearts,  from  a want  of 
true  taste  or  by  strong  affectation,  may  perhaps  resolve  not  to  read  my 
book  ; choosing  rather  to  deny  themselves  the  pleasure  and  honour  of 
shining  in  polite  company  among  the  principal  geniuses  of  both  sexes 

* This  word  is  spelt  by  Latinists  Encyclopedia  ; but  the  judicious  author 
wisely  prefers  the  polite  reading  before  the  pedantic. — H. 


22 — 2 


340 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


throughout  the  kingdom  than  adorn  their  minds  with  this  noble  art; 
and  probably  apprehending  (as  I confess  nothing  is  more  likely  to 
happen)  that  a true  spirit  of  loyalty  to  the  Protestant  succession  should 
steal  in  along  with  it. 

If  my  favourable  and  gentle  readers  could  possibly  conceive  the 
perpetual  watchings,  the  numberless  toils,  the  frequent  risings  in  the 
night  to  set  down  several  ingenious  sentences  that  I suddenly  or  acci- 
dentally recollected  ; and  which,  without  my  utmost  vigilance  had  been 
irrecoverably  lost  for  ever  ; if  they  would  consider  with  what  incredible 
diligence  I daily  and  nightly  attended  at  those  houses  where  persons 
of  both  sexes,  and  of  the  most  distinguished  merit,  used  to  meet  and 
display  their  talents  ; with  what  attention  I listened  to  all  their  dis- 
courses. the  better  to  retain  them  in  my  memory  , and  then  at  proper 
seasons  withdrew  unobserved  to  enter  them  in  my  table-book,  while  the 
company  little  suspected  what  a noble  work  I had  then  in  embryo  ; I 
say,  if  all  these  were  known  to  the  world,  I think  it  would  be  no  great 
presumption  in  me  to  expect,  at  a proper  juncture,  the  public  thanks  of 
both  Houses  of  Parliament  for  the  service  and  honour  I have  done  to 
the  whole  nation  by  my  single  pen.  + 

Although  I have  never  been  once  charged  with  the  least  tincture  of 
vanity,  the  reader  will,  I hope,  give  me  leave  to  put  an  easy  question  : 
What  is  become  of  all  the  King  of  Sweden's  victories?  where  are  the 
fruits  of  them  at  this  day?  or  of  what  benefit  will  they  be  to  posterity  ? 
Were  not  many  of  his  greatest  actions  owing,  at  least  in  part,  to 
fortune?  were  not  all  of  them  owing  to  the  valour  of  his  troops  as  much 
as  to  his  own  conduct  ? could  he  have  conquered  the  Polish  King,  or  * 
the  Czar  of  Muscovy,  with  his  single  arm  ? Far  be  it  from  me  to 
envy  or  lessen  the  fame  he  has  acquired  ; but,  at  the  same  time,  I will 
venture  to  say  without  breach  of  modesty  that  I,  who  have  alone  with  i 
this  right  hand  subdued  barbarism,  rudeness,  and  rusticity,  who  have 
established  and  fixed  for  ever  the  whole  system  of  all  true  politeness 
and  refinement  in  conversation,  should  think  myself  most  inhumanly 
treated  by  my  countrymen,  and  would  accordingly  resent  it  as  the 
highest  indignity,  to  be  put  on  a level  in  point  of  fame  in  after  ages  with 
Charles  the  Twelfth,  late  King  of  Sweden. 

And  yet  so  incurable  is  the  love  of  detraction,  perhaps  beyond  what 
the  charitable  reader  will  easily  believe,  that  I have  been  assured  by 
more  than  one  credible  person  how  some  of  my  enemies  have  in- 
dustriously whispered  about  that  one  Isaac  Newton,  an  insrument 
maker,  formerly  living  near  Leicester-fields;  and  afterwards  a workman 
m the  Mint  at  the  Tower,  might  possibly  pretend  to  vie  with  me  for 
fame  in  future  times.  The  man,  it  seems,  was  knighted  for  making 
sun-dials  better  than  others  of  his  trade ; and  was  thought  to  be  a 
conjuror,  because  he  knew  how  to  draw  lines  and  circles  upon  a slate, 
which  nobody  could  understand.  But,  adieu  to  all  noble  attempts  for 
endless  renown,  if  the  ghost  of  an  obscure  mechanic  shall  be  raised  up 
to  enter  into  competition  with  me  only  for  his  skill  in  making  pothooks 
and  hangers  with  a pencil ; which  many  thousand  accomplished  gentle- 
men and  ladies  can  perform  as  well  with  pen  and  ink  upon  a piece  of 
paper,  and  in  a manner  as  little  intelligible  as  those  of  Sir  Isaac. 

My  most  ingenious  friend  already  mentioned,  Mr.  Colley  Cibber, 


POLITE  CONVERSATION. 


341 


who  does  so  much  honour  to  the  laurel  crown  he  deservedly  wears  (as 
he  has  often  done  to  many  imperial  diadems  placed  on  his  head)  was 
pleased  to  tell  me  that  if  my  treatise  was  shaped,  into  a comedy  the 
representation  performed  to  advantage  on  our  theatre  might  very  much 
contribute  to  the  spreading  of  polite  conversation  among  all  persons  of 
distinction  through  the  whole  kingdom. 

I own  the  thought  was  ingenious,  and  my  friend’s  intention  good  ; 
but  I cannot  agree  to  his  proposal,  for  Mr.  Cibber  himself  allowed  that, 
the  subjects  handled  in  my  work  being  so  numerous  and  extensive,  it 
would  be  absolutely  impossible  for  one,  two,  or  even  six  comedies  to 
contain  them.  Whence  it  will  follow  that  many  admirable  and  essential 
rules  for  polite  conversation  must  be  omitted. 

And  here  let  me  do  justice  to  my  friend  Mr.  Tibbalds,  who  plainly 
confessed  before  Mr.  Cibber  himself  that  such  a project,  as  it  wouid  be 
a great  diminution  to  my  honour,  so  it  would  intolerably  mangle  my 
scheme,  and  thereby  destroy  the  principal  end  at  which  I aimed,  to 
form  a complete  body  or  system  of  this  most  useful  science  in  all  its 
parts.  And  therefore  Mr.  Tibbalds,  whose  judgment  was  never  dis- 
puted, chose  rather  to  fall  in  with  my  proposal  mentioned  before,  of 
erecting  public  schools  and  seminaries  all  over  the  kingdom,  to  instruct 
the  young  people  of  both  sexes  in  this  art,  according  to  my  rules,  and 
in  the  method  that  I have  laid  down. 

I shall  conclude  this  long  but  necessary  introduction  with  a request, 
cr  indeed  rather  a just  and  reasonable  demand,  from  all  lords,  ladies, 
and  gentlemen,  that,  while  they  are  entertaining  and  improving  each 
other  with  those  polite  questions,  answers,  repartees,  replies,  and  re- 
joinders, which  I have  with  infinite  labour,  and  close  application,  during 
the  space  of  thirty-six  years,  been  collecting  for  their  service  and  im- 
provement, they  shall,  as  an  instance  of  gratitude,  on  every  proper 
occasion,  quote  my  name  after  this  or  the  like  manner  : “ Madam,  as 
our  Master  Wagstaff  says.”  “ My  Lord,  as  our  friend  Wagstaff  has 
it.”  I do  likewise  expect  that  all  my  pupils  shall  drink  my  health 
every  day  at  dinner  and  supper  during  mv  life  ; and  that  they  or  their 
posterity  shall  continue  the  same  ceremony  to  my  not  inglorious  me- 
mory after  my  decease  for  ever. 


▲ 

COMPLETE  COLLECTION 


OF 

POLITE  AND  INGENIOUS  CONVERSATION 


IN  SEVERAL  DIALOGUES. 


THE  MEN. 


THE  LADIES. 


Lord  Sparkish. 
Lord  Smart. 

Sir  John  Linger. 
Mr.  Neve  rout. 
Colonel  Atwit. 


Lady  Smart. 

Miss  Notable. 
Lady  Answerall 


ARGUMENT. 

\ 

Lord  Sparkish  and  Colonel  Atwit  meet  in  the  morning  upon  the  Mall ; 
Mr.  Neverout  joins  them  ; they  all  go  to  breakfast  at  Lady  Smart’s. 
Their  conversation  over  their  tea,  after  which  they  part ; but  my  lord  and  the 
two  gentlemen  are  invited  10  dinner.  Sir  John  Linger  invited  likewise, 
and  comes  a little  too  late.  The  whole  conversation  at  dinner  ; after  which 
the  ladies  retire  to  their  tea.  The  conversation  of  the  ladies  without  the 
men,  who  are  supposed  to  stay  and  drink  a bottle  ; but  in  some  time  go  to 
the  ladies  and  drink  tea  with  them.  The  conversation  there.  After  which 
a party  at  quadrille  until  three  in  the  morning;  but  no  conversation  set  down. 
They  all  take  leave,  and  go  home. 


St.  James’s  Park. 


Lord  Sparkish  meeting  Col.  Atwit. 

Col . W ELL  met,  my  lord. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Thank  ye,  Colonel.  A parson  would  have  said,  I 
hope  we  shall  meet  in  heaven.  When  did  you  see  Tom  Neverout  ? 
Col.  He’s  just  coming  toward  us.  Talk  of  the  devil — 

Neverout  comes  up. 

Col.  How  do  you  do,  Tom  ? 

Neverout.  Never  the  better  for  you. 


POLITE  CONVERSATION. 


343 


Col.  I hope  you’re  never  the  worse  ; but  pray  where's  your  manners  ? 
Don’t  you  see  my  Lord  Sparkish  ? 

Neverout.  My  lord,  I beg  your  lordship’s  pardon. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Tom,  how  is  it  that  you  can’t  see  the  wood  for  trees  ? 
What  wind  blew  you  hither? 

Neverout.  Why,  my  lord,  it  is  an  ill  wind  blows  nobody  good  ; for 
it  gives  me  the  honour  of  seeing  your  lordship. 

Col.  Tom,  you  must  go  with  us  to  Lady  Smart’s  to  breakfast. 
Neverout.  Must!  Why,  Colonel,  must’s  for  the  King. 

[Col.  offering  in  jest  to  draw  his  sword. 
Col.  Have  you  spoke  with  all  your  friends  ? 

Neverotit.  Colonel,  as  you’re  stout,  be  merciful. 

Ld.  Sparkish . Come,  agree,  agree  ; the  law’s  costly. 

[Col.  taking  his  hand from  his  hilt. 
Col.  Well,  Tom,  you  are  never  the  worse  man  to  be  afraid  of  me. 
Come  along. 

Neverout.  What ! do  you  think  I was  born  in  a wood,  to  be  afraid  of 
an  owl  ? 

I’ll  wait  on  you.  I hope  Miss  Notable  will  be  there;  egad  she’s 
Very  handsome,  and  has  wit  at  will. 

Col.  Why  every  one  as  they  like,  as  the  good  woman  said  when  she 
kissed  her  cow. 

Lord  Smart’s  House  ; they  knock  at  the  door  ; the  Porter  comes  out. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Pray,  are  you  the  porter  ? 

Porter.  Yes,  for  want  of  a better. 

Ld.  Spar'kish.  Is  your  lady  at  home  ? 

Porter . She  was  at  home  just  now  ; but  she’s  not  gone  out  yet. 
Neverout.  I warrant  this  rogue’s  tongue  is  well  hung. 

Lady  Smart’s  Antechamber. 

Lady  Smart  and  Lady  Answer  all  at  the  tea  table. 

Lady  Smart.  My  Lord,  your  lordship’s  most  humble  servant. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Madam,  you  spoke  too  late  ; I was  your  Ladyship’s 
before. 

Lady  Smart.  O,  Colonel,  are  you  here  ? 

Col.  As  sure  as  you’re  there,  madam. 

Lady  Smart.  O,  Mr.  Neverout ! What  such  a man  alive  ! 
Neverout.  Ay,  madam,  alive,  and  alive  like  to  be,  at  your  ladyship’s 
service. 

Lady  Smart.  Well,  I’ll  get  a knife,  and  nick  it  down  that  Mr.  Never- 
out came  to  our  house.  And  pray  what  news,  Mr.  Neverout? 
Neverout.  Why,  madam,  Queen  Elizabeth’s  dead. 

Lady  Smart . Well,  Mr.  Neverout,  I see  you  are  no  changeling. 

Miss  Notable  comes  in. 

Neverout.  Miss,  your  slave  ; I hope  your  early  rising  will  do  you  no 
harm.  I find  you  are  but  just  come  out  of  the  cloth  market. 

M iss.  I always  rise  at  eleven,  whether  it  be  day  or  not. 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


344 

Col.  Miss,  I hope  you  are  up  for  all  day. 

Miss.  Yes,  if  I don’t  get  a fall  before  night. 

Col.  Miss,  I heard  you  were  out  of  order  ; pray  how  are  you  now? 

Miss.  Pretty  well,  Colonel,  I thank  you. 

Col.  Pretty  and  well,  miss  ! that’s  two  very  good  things. 

Miss.  I mean  I am  better  than  l was. 

Neverout.  Why  then,  ’tis  well  you  were  sick. 

Miss . What ! Mr.  Neverout,  you  take  me  up  before  Pm  down. 

lady  Smart.  Come  let  us  leave  off  children’s  play,  and  go  tc 
pushpin. 

Miss.  [To  Lady  Smart.]  Pray,  madam,  give  me  some  more  sugar  to 
mv  tea. 

Col.  Oh,  miss,  you  must  needs  be  very  good  humoured,  you  love 
sweet  things  so  well. 

Neverout.  Stir  it  up  with  the  spoon,  miss  ; for  the  deeper  the  sweeter. 

Lady  Smart.  I assure  you,  miss,  the  colonel  has  made  you  a great 
compliment. 

Miss.  I am  sorry  for  it ; for  I have  heard  say,  complimenting  is 
lying. 

Lady  Smart.  [To  Lord  Sparkishi]  My  lord,  methinks  the  sight  of  you 
is  good  for  sore  eyes  ; if  we  had  known  of  your  coming,  we  would 
have  strown  rushes  for  you  ; how  has  your  lordship  done  this  long 
time? 

Col.  Faith,  madam,  he’s  better  in  health  than  in  good  conditions. 

Ld.  Sparkish . Well ; I see  there’s  no  worse  friend  than  one  brings 
from  home  with  one  ; and  I am  not  the  first  man  has  carried  a rod  to 
whin  himself. 

Neverout.  Here’s  poor  miss  has  not  a word  to  throw  at  a dog.  Come, 
ft  penny  for  your  thought. 

Miss.  It  is  not  worth  a farthing  ; for  I was  thinking  of  you. 

Colo7iel  rising  up. 

Lady  Smart.  Colonel,  where  are  you  going  so  soon  ? I hope  you  did 
not  come  to  fetch  fire. 

Col.  Madam,  I must  needs  go  home  for  half  an  hour. 

Miss.  Why,  colonel,  they  say  the  devil’s  at  home. 

Lady  Answ.  Well,  but  sit  while  you  stay,  ’tis  as  cheap  sitting  as 
Standing. 

Col.  No,  madam,  while  I’m  standing  I’m  going. 

Miss.  Nay,  let  him  go ; I promise  him  we  won’t  tear  his  clothes  to 
hold  him. 

Lady  Smart.  I suppose,  colonel,  we  keep  you  from  better  company, 
I mean  only  as  to  myself. 

Col.  Madam,  I am  all  obedience. 

Colonel  sits  down. 

Lady  Smart.  Lord,  miss,  how  can  you  drink  your  tea  so  hot  ? sure 
your  mouth’s  paved. 

How  do  you  like  this  tea,  colonel? 


POLITE  CONVERSATION. 


345 


Col.  Well  enough,  madam  ; but  methinks  it  is  a little  more-ish. 

Lady  Smart.  Oh  ! colonel,  I understand  you.  Betty, bring  the  can- 
ister : I have  but  very  little  of  this  tea  left ; but  I don’t  love  to  make 
two  wants  of  one  ; want  when  I have  it,  and  want  when  I have  it  not. 
He,  he,  he,  he.  {Laughs. 

Lady  Answ . [To  the  maid.]  Why,  sure  Betty,  you  are  bewitched,  the 
cream  is  burnt  too. 

Betty.  Why,  madam,  the  bishop  has  set  his  foot  in  it. 

Lady  Smart.  Go,  run,  girl,  and  warm  some  fresh  cream. 

Betty . Indeed,  madam,  there’s  none  left  ; for  the  cat  has  eaten  it  all. 

Lady  Smart.  I doubt  it  was  a cat  with  two  legs. 

Miss.  Colonel,  don’t  you  love  bread  and  butter  with  your  tea  ? 

Col.  Yes,  in  a morning,  miss  : for  they  say,  butter  is  gold  in  a morn- 
ing, silver  at  noon,  but  it  is  lead  at  night. 

Neverout.  Miss,  the  weather  is  so  hot,  that  my  butter  melts  on  my 
bread. 

Lady  Answ.  Why,  butter,  I’ve  heard  ’em  say,  is  mad  twice  a year. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  [To  the  maid.]  Mrs.  Betty,  how  does  your  body 
politic  ? 

Col.  Fie,  my  lord,  you’ll  make  Mrs.  Betty  blush. 

Lady  Smart.  Blush ! ay,  blush  like  a blue  dog. 

Neverout.  Pray,  Mrs.  Betty,  are  you  not  Tom  Johnson’s  daughter? 

Betty.  So  my  mother  tells  me,  sir. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  But,  Mrs.  Betty,  I hear  you  are  in  love. 

Betty.  My  lord,  I thank  God,  I hate  nobody ; I am  in  charity  with 
all  the  world. 

Lady  Smart.  Why,  wench,  I think  thy  tongue  runs  upon  wheels  this 
morning  ; how  came  you  by  that  scratch  upon  your  nose  ; have  you 
been  fighting  with  the  cats  ? .. 

Col.  [to  Miss.]  Miss,  when  will  you  be  married  ? 

Miss.  One  of  these  odd-come-shortly’s,  Colonel. 

Neverout.  Yes  ; they  say  the  match  is  half  made,  the  spark  is  will- 
ing, but  Miss  is  not. 

Miss.  I suppose  the  gentleman  has  got  his  own  consent  for  it. 

Lady  Answ.  Pray,  my  lord,  did  you  walk  through  the  park  in  the 
rain  ? 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Yes,  ma^am,  we  were  neither  sugar  nor  salt,  we  were 
not  afraid  the  rain  would  melt  us.  He,  he  he.  [Laugh. 

Col.  It  rained  and  the  sun  shone  at  the  same  time. 

Neverout . Why,  then  the  devil  was  beating  his  wife  behind  the  door 
with  a shoulder  of  mutton.  [Laugh. 

Col.  A blind  man  would  be  glad  to  see  that. 

Lady  Smart.  Mr.  Neverout,  methinks  you  stand  in  your  own  light. 

Neverout.  Ah  ! madam,  I have  done  so  ail  my  life. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  I’m  sure  he  sits  in  mine  : Prithee,  Tom,  sit  a little 
farther  ; I believe  your  father  was  no  glazier. 

Lady  Smart.  Miss,  dear  girl,  fill  me  out  a dish  of  tea,  for  I’m  very 
lazy. 

Miss  fills  a dish  of  tea,  sweetens  it  and  then  tastes  it 

Lady  Smart.  What,  miss,  will  you  be  my  taster? 


346  DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 

Miss.  No,  madam  ; but  they  say,  ’tis  an  ill  cook  that  can’t  lick  hef 
own  fingers. 

Neverout.  Pray,  miss,  fill  me  another. 

Miss . Will  you  have  it  now,  or  stay  till  you  get  it  ? 

Lady  Answ . But,  Colonel,  they  say  you  went  to  court  last  night  very 
. drunk  : nay,  Pm  told  for  certain,  you  had  been  among  the  Philistines  ; 
no  wonder  the  cat  winked,  when  both  her  eyes  were  out. 

Col.  Indeed,  madam,  that’s  a lie. 

Lady  Answ.  ’Tis  better  I should  lie  than  you  should  lose  your  good 
manners  : besides,  I don’t  lie,  I sit. 

Neverout.  O faith,  Colonel,  you  must  own  you  had  a drop  in  your 
eye  ; when  I left  you,  you  were  half  seas  over. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Well,  I fear  Lady  Answerall  can’t  live  long,  she  has  so 
much  wit. 

Neverout.  No ; she  can’t  live,  that’s  certain  ; but  she  may  linger 
thirty  or  forty  years. 

Miss . Live  long  ! ay,  longer  than  a cat  or  a dog,  or  a better  thing. 

Lady  Anws.  Oh  ! miss,  you  must  give  your  vardi  too  ! 

Ld.  Spa7'kish . Miss,  shall  I fill  you  another  dish  of  tea  ? 

Miss.  Indeed,  my  lord,  I have  drank  enough. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Come,  it  will  do  you  more  good  than  a month’s  fast* 
ing  ; here,  take  it. 

Miss . No,  I thank  your  lordship  ; enough’s  as  good  as  a feast. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Well ; but  if  you  always  say  no,  you’ll  never  be 
married. 

Lady  Answ.  Do,  my  lord,  give  her  a dish  ; for,  they  say,  maids  will 
say  no,  and  take  it. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Well ; and  I dare  say,  miss  is  a maid  in  thought, 
word,  and  deed. 

Neverout.  I would  not  take  my  oath  of  that. 

Miss.  Pray,  sir,  speak  for  yourself. 

Lady  Smart.  Fie,  miss ; they  say  maids  should  be  seen,  and  not 
heard. 

Lady  Answ.  Good  miss,  stir  the  fire,  that  the  tea-kettle  may  boil. — 
You  have  done  it  very  well ; now  it  burns  purely.  Well,  miss,  you’ll 
have  a cheerful  husband. 

iliiss.  Indeed,  your  ladyship  could  have  stifred  it  much  better. 

Lady  Answ.  I know  that  very  well,  hussy  ; but  I won’t  keep  a dog 
and  bark  myself. 

Neverout.  What ! you  are  sick,  miss. 

Miss.  Not  at  all ; for  her  ladyship  meant  you. 

Neverout.  Oh  ! faith,  miss,  you  are  in  lobs  pound;  get  out  as  you  can. 

Miss.  I won’t  quarrel  with  my  bread  and  butter  for  all  that ; I know 
when  I’m  well. 

Lady  Answ.  Well ; but  miss — 

, Neverout . Ah  ! dear  madam,  let  the  matter  fall  ; take  pity  on  poor 
miss  ; don’t  throw  water  on  a drowned  rat. 

Miss.  Indeed,  Mr.  Neverout,  you  should  be  cut  for  the  simples  this 
morning  : say  a word  more  and  you  had  as  good  eat  your  nails. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Pray,  miss,  will  you  be  so  good  as  to  favour  us  with  a 

song? 


POLITE  CONVERSATION . 


347 


Miss . Indeed,  my  lord,  I can’t ; for  I have  a great  cold. 

Col.  Oh  ! miss,  they  say  all  good  singers  have  colds. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Pray,  madam,  does  not  miss  sing  very  well? 

Lady  Answ . She  sings,  as  one  may  say,  my  lord. 

Miss . I hear  Mr.  Neverout  has  a very  good  voice. 

Col.  Yes,  Tom  sings  well,  but  his  luck’s  naught. 

Neverout.  Faith,  Colonel,  you  hit  yourself  a devilish  box  on  the  ear. 
Col.  Miss,  will  you  take  a pinch  of  snuff? 

Miss.  No,  Colonel,  you  must  know  that  I never  take  snuff,  but  when 
I am  angry. 

Lady  Answ.  Yes,  yes,  she  can  take  snuff,  but  she  has  never  a box  to 
put  it  in. 

Miss.  Pray,  Colonel,  let  me  see  that  box. 

Col.  Madam,  there’s  never  a C upon  it. 

Miss.  May  be  there  is,  Colonel. 

Col.  Ay,  but  Mav-bees  don’t  fly  now,  miss. 

Neverout.  Colonel,  why  so  hard  upon  poor  miss  ? Don’t  set  your  wit 
against  a child  ; miss,  give  me  a blow,  and  I’ll  beat  him. 

Miss.  So  she  prayed  me  to  tell  you. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Pray,  my  lady  Smart,  what  kin  are  you  to  lord  Pozz  ? 
Lady  Smart.  Why  his  grandmother  and  mine  had  four  elbows. 

Lady  Answ.  Well,  methinks  here’s  a silent  meeting.  Come,  miss, 
hold  up  your  head,  girl ; there’s  money  bid  for  you.  \Miss  starts. 

Miss.  Lord,  madam,  you  frighten  me  out  of  my  seven  senses  ! 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Well,  I must  be  going. 

Lady  Answ.  I have  seen  hastier  people  than  you  stay  all  night. 

Col.  [to  Lady  Smart.\  Tom  Neverout  and  I are  to  leap  to-morrow 
for  a guinea. 

Miss.  I believe,  Colonel,  Mr.  Neverout  can  leap  at  a crust  better 
than  you. 

Neverout.  Miss,  your  tongue  runs  before  your  wit ; nothing  can  tame 
you  but  a husband. 

Miss.  Peace  ! I think  I hear  the  church  clock. 

Neverout.  Why  you  know,  as  the  fool  thinks — 

Lady  Smart.  Mr.  Neverout,  your  handkerchiefs  fallen. 

Miss.  Let  him  set  his  foot  on  it,  that  it  mayn’t  fly  in  his  face 
Neverout.  Well,  miss — 

Miss.  Ay,  ay  ! many  a one  says  well  that  thinks  ilL 
Neverout.  Well,  miss,  I’ll  think  on  this. 

Miss.  That’s  rhyme,  if  you  take  it  in  time. 

Neverout.  What  ! I see  you  are  a poet. 

Miss.  Yes  ; if  I had  but  the  wit  to  show  it. 

Neverout.  Miss,  will  you  be  so  kind  as  to  fill  me  a dish  of  tea? 
Miss.  Pray  let  your  betters  be  served  before  you  ; I’m  just  going  ta 
fill  one  for  myself ; and,  you  know,  the  parson  always  christens  his  own 
child  first. 

Neverout.  But  I saw  you  fill  one  just  now  for  the  colonel ; well,  I 
find  kissing  goes  by  favour. 

Miss.  But  pray,  Mr.  Neverout,  what  lady  was  that  ^uu  were  talking 
with  in  the  side  box  last  Tuesday  ? 

Neverout.  Miss,  can  you  keep  a secret? 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


34* 

Miss.  Yes,  I can. 

Neverout.  Well,  Miss,  and  so  can  I. 

Col,  Odd-so  ! I have  cut  my  thumb  with  this  cursed  knife ! 

Lady  Answ.  Ay  ; that  was  your  mother's  fault,  because  she  only 
warned  you  not  to  cut  your  fingers. 

Lady  Smart,  No,  no  ; 'tis  only  fools  cut  their  fingers,  but  wise  folks 
cut  their  thumbs. 

Miss.  I'm  sorry  for  it,  but  I can't  cry. 

Col.  Don't  you  think  miss  is  grown  ? 

Lady  Answ . Ay,  ill  weeds  grow  apace. 

A puff  of  smoke  comes  down  the  chimney . 

Lady  Answ.  Lord,  madam,  does  your  ladyship's  chimney  smoke? 

Col.  No,  madam  ; but  they  say  smoke  always  pursues  the  fair,  and 
your  ladyship  sat  nearest. 

Lady  Smart.  Madam,  do  you  love  bohea  tea? 

Lady  Answ . Why,  madam,  I must  confess  I do  love  it,  but  it  does 
not  love  me. 

Miss  [to  Lady  Smart.]  Indeed,  madam,  your  ladyship  is  very  sparing 
of  your  tea ; I protest  the  last  I took  was  no  more  than  water  be- 
witched. 

Col.  Pray,  miss,  if  I may  be  so  bold,  what  lover  gave  you  that  fine 
etui  ? 

Miss.  Don't  you  know?  then  keep  counsel. 

Lady  Answ.  I'll  tell  you,  Colonel,  who  gave  it  her  : it  was  the  best 
lover  she  will  ever  have  while  she  lives,  her  own  dear  papa. 

Neverout . Methinks,  miss,  1 don't  much  like  the  colour  of  that 
ribbon. 

Miss.  Why,  then,  Mr.  Neverout,  do  you  see,  if  you  don't  much  like  >, 
it,  you  may  look  off  it. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  I don't  doubt,  madam,  but  your  ladyship  has  heard 
that  Sir  John  Brisk  has  got  an  employment  at  court. 

Lady  Smart.  Yes,  yes  ; and  I warrant  he  thinks  himself  no  small 
fool  now. 

Neverout.  Yes,  madam,  I have  heard  some  people  take  him  for  a 
wise  man. 

Lady  Smart.  Ay,  ay  ; some  are  wise,  and  some  are  otherwise. 

Lady  Answ.  Do  you  know  him,  Mr.  Neverout  ? 

Neverout.  Know  him ! ay,  as  well  as  the  beggar  knows  his  dish. 

Col.  Well ; I can  only  say  that  he  has  better  luck  than  honester 
folks  ; but  pray,  how  came  he  to  get  this  employment? 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Why,  by  chance,  as  the  man  killed  the  devil. 

Neverout.  Why,  miss,  you  are  in  a brown  study  ; what's  the  matter? 
methinks  you  look  like  mumchance,  that  was  hanged  for  saying  nothing. 

Miss.  I’d  have  you  to  know,  I scorn  your  words. 

Neverout.  Well ; but  scornful  dogs  will  eat  dirty  puddings. 

Miss.  Well,  my  comfort  is,  your  tongue  is  no  slander.  What  you 
Would  not  have  one  be  always  on  the  high  grin  ? 

Neverout.  Cry  mapsticks,  madam ; no  offence  1 hope. 


POLITE  CONVERSATION. 


349 


Lady  Smart  breaks  a teacup . 

Lady  Answ . Lord,  madam,  how  came  you  to  break  your  cup  ? 

Lady  Smart.  I can't  help  it,  if  I would  cry  my  eyes  out. 

Miss . Why  sell  it,  madam,  and  buy  a new  one  with  some  of  the 
money. 

Col.  ’Tis  a folly  to  cry  for  spilt  milk. 

Lady  Smart.  Why,  if  things  did  not  break  or  wear  out,  how  would 
tradesmen  live  ? 

Miss.  Well,  I am  very  sick,  if  anybody  cared  for  it. 

Neverout.  Come  then,  miss,  e’en  make  a die  of  it,  and  then  we  shall 
have  a burying  of  our  own. 

Miss.  The  devil  take  you,  Neverout,  beside  all  small  curses. 

Lady  Answ.  Marry  come  up,  what,  plain  Neverout ! methinks  you 
might  have  an  M under  your  girdle,  miss. 

Lady  Smart.  Well,  well,  nought’s  never  in  danger  ; I warrant  miss 
will  spit  in  her  hand  and  hold  fast.  Colonel,  do  you  like  this  biscuit  ? 

Col.  Pm  like  all  fools  ; I love  everything  that’s  good. 

Lady  Smart.  Well,  and  isn’t  it  pure  good? 

Col.  'Tis  better  than  a worse. 

Footman  brings  the  Colonel  a letter. 

Lady  Answ . I suppose,  Colonel,  that’s  a billet-doux  from  your 
mistress. 

Col.  Egad,  I don’t  know  whence  it  comes ; but  whoe’er  writ  it,  writes 
a hand  like  a foot. 

Miss.  Well,  you  may  make  a secret  of  it,  but  we  can  spell,  and  put 
together. 

Neverout.  Miss,  what  spells  b double  uzzard  ? 

Miss.  Buzzard  in  your  teeth,  Mr.  Neverout. 

Lady  Smart.  Now  you  are  up,  Mr.  Neverout,  will  you  do  me  the 
favour,  to  do  me  the  kindness  to  take  off  the  tea-kettle  ? 

Ld.  Sparkish.  I wonder  what  makes  these  bells  ring. 

Lady  Answ.  Why,  my  lord,  I suppose  because  they  pull  the  ropes. 

[ Here  all  laugh.] 

Neverout  plays  with  a teacup. 

Miss.  Now  a child  would  have  cried  half  an  hour  before  it  would 
have  found  out  such  a pretty  plaything. 

Lady  Smart.  Well  said,  miss  ; I vow,  Mr.  Neverout,  the  girl  is  too 
hard  for  you. 

Neverout.  Ay,  miss  will  say  anything  but  her  prayers,  and  those  she 

whistles. 

M iss.  Pray,  Colonel,  make  me  a present  of  that  pretty  penknife. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Ay,  miss,  catch  him  at  that,  and  hang  him. 

Col.  Not  for  the  world,  dear  miss,  it  will  cut  love. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Colonel,  you  shall  be  married  first,  I was  going  to  say 
that. 

Lady  Smart  Well,  but  for  all  that,  I can  tell  who  is  a great  admirer 
of  miss  , pray,  miss,  how  do  you  like  Mr.  Spruce  ? I swear,  I have 
often  seen  him  cast  a sheep’s  eye  out  of  a calf’s  head  at  you  : deny  it 
if  you  can. 


350  DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 

Miss . 0,  madam  ; all  the  world  knows  that  Mr.  Spruce  is  a general 
lover. 

Col.  Come,  miss,  *tis  too  true  to  make  a jest  on.  [ Miss  blushes. 

Lady  Answ.  Well,  however,  blushing  is  some  sign  of  grace. 

Neverout.  Miss  says  nothing ; but  I warrant  she  pays  it  off  with 
thinking. 

Miss.  Well,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  you  are  pleased  to  divert  your- 
selves ; but,  as  I hope  to  be  saved,  there’s  nothing  in  it. 

Lady  Answ.  Touch  a galled  horse,  and  hell  wince  ; love  will  creep 
where  it  dare  not  go  ; I’d  hold  a hundred  pound,  Mr.  Neverout  was 
the  inventor  of  that  storjf ; and,  Colonel,  I doubt  you  had  a finger  in 
the  pie. 

Lady.  Answ.  But,  Colonel,  you  forgot  to  salute  miss  when  you  came 
in  ; she  said  you  had  not  been  here  a long  time. 

Miss.  Fie,  madam;  I vow,  Colonel,  I said  no  such  thing;  I wonder 
at  your  ladyship  ! 

Col.  Miss,  I beg  your  pardon — 

Goes  to  salute  her : she  struggles  a little . 

Miss.  Well,  Pd  rather  give  a knave  a kiss  for  once  than  be  troubled 
with  him  : but,  upon  my  word,  you  are  more  bold  than  welcome. 

Lady  Smart.  Fie,  fie,  miss  ! for  shame  of  the  world,  and  speech  of 
good  people. 

Neverout  to  miss , who  is  cooking  her  tea  and  bread  and  butter. 

Neverout.  Come,  come,  miss,  make  much  of  nought  ; good  folks  are 
scarce. 

Miss.  What!  and  you  must  come  in  with  your  two  eggs  a penny,  and  * 
three  of  them  rotten.  < 

Col.  [to  Ld.  Sparkish .]  But,  my  Lord,  I forgot  to  ask  you,  how  you 
like  my  new  clothes  ? 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Why,  very  well,  Colonel ; only  to  deal  plainly  with 
you,  metninks  the  worst  piece  is  in  the  middle. 

[Here  a loud  laugh  often  repeated. 

Col.  My  Lord,  you  are  too  severe  on  your  friends. 

Miss.  Mr.  Neverout,  Pm  hot,  are  you  a sot  ? 

Neverout.  Miss,  Pm  cold,  are  you  a scold  ? take  you  that. 

Lady  Smart.  I confess  that  was  home.  I find,  Mr.  Neverout,  you 
won’t  give  your  head  for  the  washing,  as  they  say. 

Miss.  O ! he’s  a sore  man  where  the  skin’s  off.  I see  Mr.  Neverout  j 
has  a mind  to  sharpen  the  edge  of  his  wit  on  the  whetstone  of  my 
ignorance. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Faith,  Tom,  you  are  struck  ! I never  heard  a better 
thing. 

Neverout . Pray,  miss,  give  me  leave  to  scratch  you  for  that  fine 
speech. 

Miss.  Pox  on  your  picture,  it  cost  me  a groat  the  drawing. 

Neverout  [to  Lady  S?nart.]  ’Sbuds,  madam,  I have  burnt  my  hand 
with  your  plaguy  tea-kettle. 

Lavy  Smart.  Why,  then,  Mr.  Neverout,  you  must  say,  God  save  the 

King. 


POLITE  CONVERSATION , 


35* 


Neverout.  Did  you  ever  see  the  like  } 

Miss . Never  but  once,  at  a wedding. 

Col.  Pray,  miss,  how  old  are  you  ? 

Miss.  Why,  I am  as  old  as  my  tongue,  and  a little  older  than  my 
teeth. 

Ld.  Sparkish  [to  Lady  Answ.]  Pray,  madam,  is  Miss  Buxom  married? 
I hear  ,tis  all  over  the  town. 

Lady  Answ.  My  Lord,  she’s  either  married,  or  worse. 

Col.  If  she  ben’t  married,  at  least  she's  lustily  promised.  But,  is  it 
certain  that  Sir  John  Blunderbuss  is  dead  at  last? 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Yes,  or  else  he's  sadly  wronged,  for  they  have  buried 
him. 

Miss.  Why,  if  he  be  dead,  he’ll  eat  no  more  bread* 

Col.  But,  is  he  really  dead  ? 

Lady  Answ . Yes,  Colonel,  as  sure  as  you’re  alive — 

Col.  They  say  he  was  an  honest  man. 

Lady  Answ . Yes,  with  good  looking  to. 

Miss  feels  a pimple  on  her  face . 

Miss.  Lord  ! I think  my  goodness  is  coming  out.  Madam,  will  your 
ladyship  please  to  lend  me  a patch  ? 

Neverout.  Miss,  if  you  are  a maid,  put  your  hand  upon  your  spot. 
Miss.  There — [Cover mg  her  face  with  both  her  hands . 

Lady  Smart.  Well,  thou  art  a mad  girl.  [ Gives  her  a tap. 

Miss.  Lord,  madam,  is  that  a blow  to  give  a child  ? 

Lady  Smart  lets  falls  her  handkerchief  and  the  Colonel  stoops  for  it. 
Lady  Smart.  Colonel,  you  shall  have  a better  office. 

Col.  O,  madam,  I can’t  have  a better  than  to  serve  your  ladyship. 
Col.  [to  Lady  Sparkish .]  Madam,  has  your  Ladyship  read  the  new 
play,  written  by  a lord  ? it  is  called  “ Love  in  a Hollow  Tree.” 

Lady  Sparkish.  No,  Colonel. 

Col.  Why,  then,  your  Ladyship  has  one  pleasure  to  come. 

Miss  sighs. 

Neverout.  Pray,  miss,  why  do  you  sigh  ? 

Miss.  To  make  a fool  ask,  and  you  are  the  first. 

Neverout . Why,  miss,  I find  there  is  nothing  but  a bit  and  a blow 
with  you. 

Lady  Answ.  Why  you  must  know,  miss  is  in  love. 

Miss.  I wish  my  head  may  never  ache  till  that  day. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Come,  miss,  never  sigh,  but  send  for  him. 

Lady  Smart  and  Lady  A nswerall  [speaking  together .]  If  he  be 
hanged  he’ll  come  hopping,  and  if  he  be  drowned  he’ll  come  dropping. 
Miss.  Well,  I swear  you  will  make  one  die  with  laughing. 

Miss  plays  with  a tea-cup , and  Neverout  plays  with  another. 
Neverout . Well,  I see  one  fool  makes  many. 

Miss.  And  you  are  the  greatest  fool  of  any. 

Neverout.  Pray,  miss,  will  you  be  so  kind  to  tie  this  string  for  me 
with  your  fair  hands  ? It  will  go  all  in  your  day’s  work. 


35* 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


Miss . Marry,  come  up,  indeed  ; tie  it  yourself,  you  have  as  many 
hands  as  I ; your  man’s  man  will  have  a fine  office  truly  ; come,  pray 
stand  out  of  my  spitting- pi  ace. 

Neverout.  Well,  but,  miss,  don’t  be  angry. 

Miss.  No ; I was  never  angry  in  my  life  but  once,  and  then  nobody 
cared  for  it ; so  I resolved  never  to  be  angry  again. 

Neverout.  Well,  but  if  you’ll  tie  it,  you  shall  never  know  what  I’ll  do 
for  you. 

Miss.  So  I suppose,  truly. 

Neverout.  Well,  but  I’ll  make  you  a fine  present  one  of  these  days. 

Miss . Ay,  when  the  devil’s  blind,  and  his  eyes  are  not  sore  yet. 

Neverout . No,  miss,  I’ll  send  it  you  to-morrow. 

Miss.  Well,  well,  to-morrow’s  a new  day  ; but  I suppose  you  mean 
to-morrow  come  never. 

Neverout.  Oh  ! ’tis  the  prettiest  thing,  I assure  you ; there  came  but 
two  of  them  over  in  three  ships. 

Miss.  Would  I could  see  it,  quoth  blind  Hugh.  But  why  did  you  not 
bring  me  a present  of  snuff  this  morning  ? 

Neverout.  Because,  miss,  you  never  asked  me,  and  ’tis  an  ill  dog 
that’s  not  worth  whistling  for. 

Ld.  Sparkish  [to  Lady  Answ .]  Pray,  madam,  how  came  your  lady- 
ship last  Thursday  to  go  to  that  odious  puppet-show  ? 

Col . Why,  to  be  sure,  her  ladyship  went  to  see  and  to  be  seen. 

Lady  Answ . You  have  made  a fine  speech,  Colonel  ; pray,  what  will 
you  take  for  your  mouthpiece  ? 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Take  that,  Colonel ; but  pray,  madam,  was  my  Lady  < 
Snuff  there?  They  say  she’s  extremely  handsome. 

Lady  Smart.  They  must  not  see  with  my  eyes  that  think  so. 

Neverout.  She  may  pass  muster  well  enough. 

Lady  Answ.  Pray,  how  old  do  you  take  her  to  be? 

Col.  Why,  about  five  or  six  and  twenty. 

Miss.  I swear  she’s  no  chicken  ; she’s  on  the  wrong  side  of  thirty  if 
she  be  a day. 

Lady  Answ.  Depend  upon  it,  she’ll  never  see  five  and  thirty  and  a 
bit  to  spare. 

Col.  Why,  they  say  she’s  one  of  the  chief  toasts  in  town. 

Lady  Smart.  Ay,  when  all  the  rest  are  out  of  it. 

Miss.  Well,  I wouldn’t  be  as  sick  as  she’s  proud  for  all  the  world. 

Lady  Answ.  She  looks  as  if  butter  wouldn’t  melt  in  her  mouth  ; but 
I warrant,  cheese  won’t  choke  her. 

Neverout.  I hear  my  Lord  What  d’ye  call  him  is  courting  her. 

Lady  Sparkish.  What  lord  d’ye  mean,  Tom  ? 

Miss.  Why,  my  lord,  I suppose  Mr.  Neverout  means  the  lord  of  the 
Lord  knows  what. 

Col.  They  say  she  dances  very  fine. 

Lady  Answ.  She  did,  but  I doubt  her  dancing  days  are  over. 

Col.  I can’t  pardon  her  for  her  rudeness  to  me. 

Lady  Smart*  Well,  but  you  must  forget  and  forgive. 


POLITE  CONVERSATION. 


353 


Footman  comes  in. 

Lady  Smart . Did  you  call  Betty  ? 

Footman.  She’s  coming,  madam. 

Lady  Smart . Coming  ! ay,  so  is  Christmas 

Betty  comes  in . 

Lady  Smart.  Come,  get  ready  my  things.  Where  has  the  wench 
been  these  three  hours  ? 

Betty.  Madam,  I can’t  go  faster  than  my  legs  will  carry  me. 

Lady  Smart.  Ay,  thou  hast  a head,  and  so  has  a pin.  But,  my  lord, 
all  the  town  has  it  that  Miss  Caper  is  to  be  married  to  Sir  Peter 
Giball ; one  thing  is  certain,  that  she  has  promised  to  have  him. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Why,  madam,  you  know,  promises  are  either  broken 
or  kept. 

Lady  Answ.  I beg  your  pardon,  my  lord,  promises  and  piecrust  are 
made  to  be  broken. 

Lady  Smart . Nay,  I had  it  from  my  Lady  Carrylie’s  own  mouth.  I 
tell  you  my  tale  and  my  tale’s  author  ; if  it  be  a lie,  you  had  it  as  cheap 
as  I. 

Lady  Answ.  She  and  I had  some  words  last  Sunday  at  church  ; but 
I think  I gave  her  her  own. 

Lady  Smart.  Her  tongue  runs  like  the  clapper  of  a mill ; she  talks 
enough  for  herself  and  all  the  company. 

Neverout.  And  yet  she  simpers  like  a furmety  kettle. 

Miss  looking  in  a glass . 

Miss  Lord,  how  my  head  is  drest  to-day  ! 

Col.  Oh,  madam  ! a good  face  needs  no  band. 

Miss.  No  ; and  a bad  one  deserves  none. 

Col.  Pray,  miss,  where  is  your  old  acquaintance,  Mrs.  Wayward? 

Miss.  Why,  where  should  she  be  ? you  must  needs  know  ; she’s  in 
her  skin. 

Col.  I can  answer  that  ; what  if  you  were  as  far  out  as  she’s  in  ? — 

Miss.  Well,  I promised  to  go  this  evening  to  Hyde  Park  on  the 
water  ; but  I protest  I’m  half  afraid. 

Neverout.  Never  fear,  miss  ; you  have  the  old  proverb  on  your  side, 
Nought’s  ne’er  in  danger. 

Col.  Why,  miss,  let  Tom  Neverout  wait  on  vou,  and  then  I warrant, 
you’ll  be  as  safe  as  a thief  in  a mill;  for  you  know,  he  that’s  born  to  be 
hanged  will  never  be  drowned. 

Neverout.  Thank  you,  Colonel,  for  your  good  word ; but  ’faith,  if 
ever  I hang,  it  shall  be  about  a fair  lady’s  neck. 

Lady  Smart.  Who’s  there?  Bid  the  children  be  quiet,  and  not  laugh 
so  loud. 

Lady  Answ.  Oh  ! madam,  let’em  laugh,  they’ll  ne’er  laugh  younger. 

Neverout.  Miss,  I’ll  tell  you  a secret,  if  you’ll  promise  never  to  tell  it 
again. 

Miss.  No,  to  be  sure  ; I’ll  tell  it  to  nobody  but  friends  and  strangers* 

Neverout.  Why  then,  there’s  some  dirt  in  my  tea-cup. 

Miss.  Come,  come,  the  more  there’s  in’tthe  more  there’s  on’t. 

23 


354 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


Lady  Answ.  Poh  ! you  must  eat  a peck  of  dirt  before  you  dMl» 

Col.  Ay,  ay  ; it  goes  all  one  way. 

Neverout.  Pray,  miss,  what’s  a clock  ? 

Miss.  Why,  you  must  know,  ’tis  a thing  like  a bell,  and  you  are  a fool 
that  can’t  tell. 

Never  out  [to  Lady  Answ].  Pray,  madam,  do  you  tell  me?  for  I have 
let  my  watch  run  down. 

Lady  Answ.  Why,  ’tis  half  an  hour  past  hanging  time. 

Col.  Well,  I’m  like  the  butcher  that  was  looking  for  his  knife,  and 
had  it  in  his  mouth  : I have  been  searching  my  pockets  for  my  snuff- 
box, and,  egad,  here  it  is  in  my  hand. 

Miss.  If  it  had  been  a bear,  it  would  have  bit  you,  Colonel  : well  I 
wish  I had  such  a snuff-box. 

Neverout.  You’ll  be  long  enough  before  you  wish  your  skin  full  of 

eyelet  holes. 

Col.  Wish  in  one  hand— 

Miss.  Out  upon  you  ; Lord,  what  can  the  man  mean? 

Ld.  Spa?‘kish.  This  tea  is  very  hot. 

Lady  Answ.  Why,  it  came  from  a hot  place,  my  lord. 

Colonel  spills  his  tea. 

Lady  Smart.  That’s  as  well  done  as  if  I had  done  it  myself. 

Col.  Madam,  I find  you  live  by  ill  neighbours,  when  you  are  forced 
to  praise  yourself. 

Lady  Smart.  So  they  prayed  me  to  tell  you. 

Neverout.  Well,  I won’t  drink  a drop  more  ; if  I do,  ’twill  go  down 
like  chopped  hay. 

Miss.  Pray,  don’t  say  no,  till  you  are  asked. 

Neverout.  Well,  what  you  please,  and  the  rest  again. 

Miss  stooping  for  a 'pin . 

Miss.  I have  heard  ’em  say,  that  a pin  a day  is  a groat  a year.  Well, 
as  I hope  to  be  married,  forgive  me  for  swearing,  I vow  ’tis  a needle. 

Col.  Oh  ! the  wonderful  works  of  nature,  that  a black  hen  should  lay 
a white  egg ! 

Neverout.  What ! you  have  found  a mare’s  nest,  and  laugh  at  the  eggs  ? 

Miss.  Pray  keep  your  breath  to  cool  your  porridge. 

Neverout.  Miss,  there  was  a very  pleasant  accident  last  night  at  St. 
James’s  Park. 

Miss  [to  Lady  Smart].  What  was  it  your  ladyship  was  going  to  say 
just  now  ? 

Neverout.  Well  miss  : tell  a mare  a tale — 

Miss.  I find  you  love  to  hear  yourself  talk. 

Neverout.  Why,  if  you  won’t  hear  my  tale,  kiss  my,  &c. 

Miss.  Out  upon  you,  for  a filthy  creature  ! 

Neverout.  What,  Miss  ! must  I tell  you  a story,  and  find  you  ears  ? 

Ld.  Sparkish  [to  Lady  Smart].  Pray,  madam,  don’t  you  think  Mrs.  ! 
Spendall  very  genteel  ? 

Lady  Smart.  Why,  my  lord,  I think  she  was  cut  out  for  a gentle- 
woman, but  she  was  spoiled  in  the  making  ; she  wears  her  clothes  as  if 
they  were  thrown  on  her  with  a pitchfork  ; and,  for  the  fashion,  I De- 
lie ve  they  were  made  in  the  reign  of  Queen  Bess 


POLITE  CONVERSATION.  35 $ 

Neverout.  Well,  that’s  neither  here  nor  there  ; for  you  know,  the 
more  careless  the  more  modish. 

Col.  Well,  Fd  hold  a wager  there  will  be  a match  between  her  and 
Dick  Dolt : and  I believe  I can  see  as  far  into  a millstone  as  another 
man. 

Miss.  Colonel,  I must  beg  your  pardon  a thousand  times  ; but  they 
say,  an  old  ape  has  an  old  eye. 

Neverout . Miss,  what  do  you  mean?  you’ll  spoil  the  Colonel’s  mar- 
flage,  if  you  call  him  old. 

Col.  Not  so  old,  nor  yet  so  cold — You  know  the  rest,  miss. 

Miss.  Manners  is  a fine  thing,  truly. 

Col.  ’Faith,  miss,  depend  upon’t,  I’ll  give  you  as  good  as  you  bring  : 
what ! if  you  give  a jest  you  must  take  a jest. 

Lady  Smart.  Well,  Mr.  Neverout,  you’ll  ne’er  have  done  till  you 
break  that  knife,  and  then  the  man  won’t  take  it  again. 

Miss.  Why,  madam,  fools  will  be  meddling  ; I wish  he  may  cut  his 
fingers.  I hope  you  can  see  your  own  blood  without  fainting. 

Neverout.  Why,  miss,  you  shine  this  morning  like  a sh— n barn  door: 
you’ll  never  hold  out  at  this  rate  ; pray  save  a little  wit  for  to-morrow. 

Miss.  Well,  you  have  said  your  say  ; if  people  will  be  rude,  I have 
done  ; my  comfort  is,  ’twill  be  all  one  a thousand  years  hence. 

Neveroiit.  Miss,  you  have  shot  your  bolt  : I find  you  must  have  the 
last  word — Well,  I’ll  go  to  the  opera  to-night — No,  I can’t,  neither,  for 
I have  some  business — and  yet  I think  I must;  for  I promised  to  squire 
the  Countess  to  her  box. 

Miss.  The  Countess  of  Puddledock,  I suppose  ? 

Neverout.  Peace,  or  war,  miss  ? 

Lady  Smart . Well,  Mr.  Neverout,  you’ll  never  be  mad,  you  are  of  SO 
many  minds. 

As  Miss  rises , the  chair  falls  behind  her. 

Miss.  Well  ; I shan’t  be  lady  mayoress  this  year. 

Neverout.  No,  miss,  ’tis  worse  than  that ; you  won’t  be  married  this 
year. 

Miss.  Lord  ! you  make  me  laugh,  though  I an’t  well. 

Neverout , as  Miss  is  standing,  fulls  her  suddenly  on  his  lap. 

Neverout.  Now,  Colonel,  come  sit  down  on  my  lap  ; more  sacks  upon 
the  mill. 

Miss.  Let  me  go  ; ar’n’t  you  sorry  for  my  heaviness  ? 

Neverout.  No,  miss  ; you  are  very  light ; biit  I don’t  say  you  are  a 
light  hussy.  Pray  take  up  the  chair  for  your  pains. 

Miss.  ’Tis  but  one  body’s  labour,  you  may  do  it  yourself ; I wish  you 
would  be  quiet,  you  have  more  tricks  than  a dancing  bear. 

Neverout  rises  to  take  up  the  chair , and  Miss  sits  in  his. 

Neverout . You  wouldn’t  be  so  soon  in  my  grave,  madam. 

Miss.  Lord  ! I have  torn  my  petticoat  with  your  odious  romping , 
my  rents  are  coming  in  ; I’m  afraid  I shall  fall  into  the  ragman’s 
hands. 

Neverout.  Fll  mend  it,  miss. 


35® 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


Miss . You  mend  it  ! go,  teach  your  grannam  to  suck  eggs. 

Neverout.  Why,  miss,  you  are  so  cross,  I could  find  in  my  heart  to 
hate  you. 

Miss.  With  all  my  heart ; there  will  be  no  love  lost  between  us. 

Neverout . But  pray,  my  Lady  Smart,  does  not  miss  look  as  if  she 
could  eat  me  without  salt  ? 

Miss.  I'll  make  you  one  day  sup  sorrow  for  this. 

Neverout.  Well,  follow  your  own  way,  you’ll  live  the  longer* 

Miss.  See,  madam,  how  well  I have  mended  it.  • 

Lady  Smart.  ’Tis  indifferent,  as  Doll  danced. 

Neverout.  ’Twill  last  as  many  nights  as  days. 

Miss.  Well,  I knew  it  should  never  have  your  good  word. 

Lady  Smart.  My  lord,  my  Lady  Answerall  and  I was  walking  in  the 
park  last  night  till  near  eleven  ; ’twas  a very  fine  night. 

Nevei'out . Egad,  so  was  I ; and  I’ll  tell  you  a comical  accident ; 
egad,  I lost  my  understanding. 

Miss.  Pm  glad  you  had  any  to  lose. 

Lady  Smart.  Well,  but  what  do  you  mean  ? 

Neverout.  Egad,  I kicked  my  foot  against  a stone,  and  tore  off  the 
heel  of  my  shoe,  and  was  forced  to  limp  to  a cobbler  in  the  Pall-mall 
to  have  it  put  on.  He,  he,  he,  he.  \_All  laugh . 

Col.  O l ’twas  a delicate  night  to  run  away  with  another  man’s  wife. 

Neverout  sneezes. 

Miss.  God  bless  you  ! if  you  han’t  taken  snuff. 

Neverout.  Why,  what  if  I have,  miss  ? 

Miss.  Why  then,  the  deuce  take  you  ! 

Neverout.  Miss,  I want  that  diamond  ring  of  youri* 

Miss.  Why,  then  want’s  like  to  be  your  master. 

Neverout  looking  at  the  ring ; 

Neverout.  Ay,  marry,  this  is  not  only,  but  also  : where  did  you 
get  it  ? 

Miss.  Why,  where  ’twas  to  be  had  ; where  the  devil  got  the  friar. 

Neverout.  Well ; if  I had  such  a fine  diamond  ring,  I wouldn't  stay 
a day  in  England:  but  you  know,  far  fetched  and  dear  bought  is  fit  for 
ladies.  I warrant,  this  cost  your  father  two- pence  halfpenny. 

Colonel  stretching  himself. 

Lady  Smart.  Why,  Colonel,  you  break  the  king’s  laws  ; you  stretch 
without  a halter.  * 

Lady  A nsw.  Colonel,  some  ladies  of  you*acquaintance  have  promised 
to  breakfast  with  you,  and  I am  to  wait  on  them  ; what  will  you  give 
us? 

Col.  Why,  faith,  madam,  bachelors’  fare  ; bread  and  cheese  and 
kisses. 

Lady  Answ.  Poh  ! what  have  you  bachelors  to  do  with  your  money, 
but  to  treat  the  ladies  ? you  have  nothing  to  keep,  but  your  own  four 
quarters. 

Lady  Smart.  My  lord,  has  Captain  Brag  the  honour  to  be  related  to 
your  lordship  ? 


POLITE  CONVERSATION.  357 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Very  nearly,  madam  ; he's  my  cousin  german  quite 
removed. 

Lady  Answ.  Pray,  is  he  not  rich  ? 

Ld.  Sparkish . Ay,  a rich  rogue,  two  shirts  and  a rag. 

Col.  Well,  however,  they  say  he  has  a great  estate,  but  only  the 
right  owner  keeps  him  out  of  it. 

Lady  Smart.  What  religion  is  he  of? 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Why  he  is  an  Anythingarian. 

Lady  Answ . I believe  he  has  his  religion  to  choose,  my  Lord. 

Never  out  scratches  his  head. 

Miss.  Fie,  Mr.  Neverout,  ar’n’t  you  ashamed  ! I beg  pardon  for  the 
expression,  but  I’m  afraid  your  bosom  friends  are  become  your  back- 
biters. 

Neveroui  Well,  miss,  I saw  a flea  once  in  your  pinner,  and  a louse 
is  a man’s  companion,  but  a flea  is  a dog’s  companion  : however,  I 
wish  you  would  scratch  my  neck  with  your  pretty  white  hand. 

Miss.  And  who  would  be  fool  then  ? 1 wou’dn’t  touch  a man’s  flesh 
for  the  universe.  You  have  the  wrong  sow  by  the  ear,  I assure  you  ; 
that’s  meat  for  your  master. 

Neverout.  Miss  Notable,  all  quarrels  laid  aside,  pray  step  hither  for 
a moment. 

Miss.  I’ll  wash  my  hands  and  wait  on  you,  sir ; but  pray  come  hither, 
and  try  to  open  this  lock, 

Neverout  We’ll  try  what  we  can  do. 

Miss.  We  ! what  have  you  pigs  in  your  belly? 

Neverout.  Miss,  I assure  you  1 am  very  handy  at  all  things. 

Miss . Marry,  hang  them  that  can’t  give  themselves  a good  word  : I 
believe  you  may  have  an  even  hand  to  throw  a louse  in  the  fire. 

Col.  Well,  I must  be  plain  ; here’s  a very  bad  smell. 

Miss.  Perhaps,  Colonel,  the  fox  is  the  finder. 

Neverout.  No,  Colonel ; ’tis  only  your  teeth  against  rain  : but— 

Miss.  Colonel,  I find  you  would  make  a very  bad  poor  man’s  sow. 

Colonel  coughing. 

Col.  I have  got  a sad  cold. 

Lady  Answ.  Ay  ; ’tis  well  if  one  can  get  anything  these  hard  times. 

Miss.  [To  Col.]  Choke,  chicken,  there’s  more  a hatching. 

Lady  Smart.  Pray,  Colonel,  how  did  you  get  that  cold  ? 

Lady  Sparkish . Why,  madam,  I suppose  the  Colonel  got  it  by  lying 
abed  barefoot. 

Lady  Answ.  Why,  then,  Colonel,  you  must  take  it  for  better  for 
worse,  as  a man  takes  his  wife. 

Col.  Well,  ladies,  I apprehend  you  without  a constable. 

Miss.  Mr  Neverout!  Mr.  Neverout!  come  hither  this  moment. 

Lady  S mart  [imitating  her].  Mr.  Neverout!  Mr.  Neverout ! I wish 
he  were  tied  to  your  girdle. 

Neverout.  What’s  the  matter  ? whose  mare’s  dead  now  ? 

Miss.  Take  your  labour  for  your  pains,  you  may  go  back  again,  like 
a fool  as  you  came. 

Neverout.  Well,  miss,  if  you  deceive  me  a second  time,  »tis  my  fault 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


35* 

Lady  Smart . Colonel,  methinks  your  coat  is  too  short. 

Col.  It  will  be  long  enough  before  I get  another,  madam 

Miss.  Come,  come  ; the  coat’s  a good  coat,  and  come  of  good 
friends. 

Neverout.  Ladies,  you  are  mistaken  in  the  stuff ; ’tis  half  silk. 

Col.  Tom  Neverout,  you  are  a fool,  and  that’s  your  fault. 

A great  noise  below. 

Lady  Smart.  Hey,  what  a clattering  is  here  ! one  would  think  Hell 

was  broke  loose. 

Miss . Indeed,  madam,  I must  take  my  leave,  for  I a’n’t  well. 

Lady  Smart.  What ! you  are  sick  of  the  mulligrubs  with  eating 
chopped  hay  ? 

Miss.  No,  indeed,  madam;  I’m  sick  and  hungry,  more  need  of  a 
cook  than  a doctor. 

Lady  Answ.  Poor  miss  ! she’s  sick  as  a cushion,  she  wants  nothing 
but  stuffing. 

Col.  If  you  are  sick,  you  shall  have  a caudle  of  calf’s  eggs. 

Neverout.  I can’t  find  my  gloves. 

Miss.  I saw  the  dog  running  away  with  some  dirty  thing  a while  ago. 

Col.  Miss,  you  have  got  my  handkerchief ; pray  let  me  have  it. 

Lady  Smart.  No ; keep  it,  miss  ; for  they  say  possession  is  eleven 
points  of  the  law.  \ 

Miss.  Madam,  he  shall  ne’er  have  it  again  ; ’tis  in  hucksters’  hands. 

Lady  Answ.  What  ! I see  ’tis  raining  again. 

Lady  Sparkish.  Why,  then,  madam,  we  must  do  as  they  do  in  Spain. 

Miss.  Pray,  my  lord,  how  is  that  ? 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Why,  madam,  we  must  let  it  rain. 

Miss  whispers  Lady  Smart.  \ 

Neverout.  There’s  no  whispering,  but  there’s  lying 

Miss . Lord  ! Mr.  Neverout,  you  are  as  pert  as  a pear-monger  this 
morning. 

Neverout.  Indeed,  miss,  you  are  very  handsome. 

Miss.  Poh  l I know  that  already  ; tell  me  news. 

Somebody  knocks  at  the  door. 

Footman  comes  in. 

Footman  {to  Col).  An’  please  your  honour,  there’s  a man  below 
wants  to  speak  to  you. 

Col.  Ladies,  your  pardon  for  a minute. 

Lady  Smart.  Miss,  I sent  yesterday  to  know  how  you  did,  but  you 
were  gone  abroad  early. 

Miss.  Why,  indeed,  madam,  I was  hunched  up  in  a hackney  coach 
with  three  country  acquaintance,  who  called  upon  me  to  take  the  air 
as  far  as  Highgate. 

Lady  Smart.  And  had  you  a pleasant  airing  ? 

Miss . No,  madam  ; it  rained  all  the  time  ; I was  jolted  to  death ; 
and  the  road  was  so  bad,  that  I screamed  every  moment,  and  called  to 
the  coachman,  Pray,  friend,  don’t  spill  us. 

Neverout.  So,  miss,  you  were  afraid  that  pride  would  have  a fall. 


POLITE  CONVERSATION. 


359 


Mif-  Mr.  Neverout,  when  I want  a fool,  I'll  send  for  you. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Miss,  didn’t  your  left  ear  burn  last  night? 

Miss.  Pray  why,  jny  lord  ? 6 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Because  I was  then  in  some  company  where  vou 
were  extolled  to  the  skies,  I assure  you.  y y0° 

My  iord,  that  was  more  their  goodness  than  my  desert. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  They  said,  that  you  were  a complete  beauty. 

Miss.  My  lord,  I am  as  God  made  me. 

Lady  Smart.  The  girl’s  well  enough,  if  she  had  but  another  nose. 

madam,  I know  I shall  always  have  your  good  word  ; you 
lot  e to  help  a lame  oog  over  the  stile.  y 

One  knocks . 

nnJfdy  ?emart.  Who’s  there  ? you’re  on  the  wrong  side  of  the  door  s 
come  in,  if  you  be  fat.  9 

Colonel  comes  in  again. 

Ld.  Sfiarktsk.  Why  Colonel,  you  are  a man  of  great  business. 
an?nothingaytodoy  ’ ““  my  l0rd  may0r’S  f°o1’  ful1  ofbus!nes* 

awiytf  kte  ? My  ^ d°n,t  y°U  think  the  Colonel’s  mightily  fallen 
Sparkish.  Ay,  fallen  from  a horseload  to  a cartload, 
twenty  hours  ^ l0rd’  6gad’  1 am  Iike  a rabbit>  fat  and  lean  in  four  and 

Lady  Smart  I assure  you,  the  Colonel  walks  as  straight  as  a pin. 
Miss.  Yes  ; he  s a handsome-bodied  man  in  the  face. 
ing\Ver°Ut‘  A handsome  foot  and  leS  i god-a-mercy  shoe  and  stock- 

Col.  What ! three  upon  one  ! that’s  foul  play  : this  would  make  a 
parson  swear. 

Neverout.  Why,  miss,  what’s  the  matter?  you  look  as  if  you  had 
neither  won  or  lost.  J 

Col.  Why  you  must  know,  miss  lives  upon  love. 

Miss.  Yes,  upon  love  and  lumps  of  the  cupboard. 

♦lWr  Answc  5 tbey  say love  and  pease  porridge  are  two  dangerous 
things  ; one  breaks  the  heart,  and  the  other  the  belly. 

Miss  {imitating  Lady  Answerall's  tone].  Very  pretty  ! one  breaks  the 
heart,  and  the  other  the  belly. 

Lady  Answ.  Have  a care  ; they  say,  mocking  is  catching. 

Miss.  I never  heard  that. 

yoSdTefore  hy’  misS’  y°U  have  a wrinkle more  than  ever 

Miss.  Well ; live  and  learn. 

Neverout-  Ay  ; and  be  hanged  and  forget  all. 

1 »-* 

DeVa’ Jack but  there's  a’cHl.” ’°U  *h“- 1 

courtesy  ^ ^everou*>  everybody  knows  that  you  are  the  pink  of 

civtiityr0U*'  m^SS>  ^ wor^  a^ows#  that  you  are  the  flower  of 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


360 

Lady  Smart.  Miss,  I hear  there  was  a great  deal  of  company  where 
you  visited  last  night  : pray,  who  were  they  ? 

Miss > Why,  there  was  old  Lady  F orward,  Miss  T6-and-again,  Sir  John 
Ogle,  my  Lady  Clapper  and  I,  quoth  the  dog. 

Col.  Was  your  visit  long,  miss  ? 

Miss.  Why,  truly,  they  went  all  to  the  opera  ; and  so  poor  Pilgarlick 
came  home  alone. 

Never  out.  Alackaday,  poor  miss  ! methinks  it  grieves  me  to  pity  you. 

Miss.  What ! you  think,  you  said  a fine  thing  now  ; well,  if  I had  a 
dog  with  no  more  wit,  I would  hang  him. 

Lady  Smart.  Miss,  if  it  is  manners,  may  I ask  which  is  oldest,  you 
or  Lady  Scuttle  ? 

Miss  Why,  my  lord,  when  I die  for  age  she  may  quake  for  fear. 

I^ady  Smart.  She’s  a very  great  gadder  abroad. 

Lady  Answ.  Lord  ! she  made  me  follow  her  last  week  through  all 
the  shops  like  a Tantiny  pig.* 

Lady  Smart.  1 remember,  you  told  me,  you  had  been  with  her  from 
Dan  to  Beersheba. 

Colonel  spits . 

Col.  Lord  ! I shall  die  ; I cannot  spit  from  me. 

Miss.  O!  Mr.  Neverout,  my  little  countess  has  just  littered;  speak  me 
fair,  and  I’ll  set  you  down  for  a puppy. 

Neverout.  Why,  miss,  if  I speak  you  fair,  perhaps  I mayn’t  tell 
truth. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Ay,  but  Tom,  smoke  that,  she  calls  you  puppy  by 
craft. 

Neverout.  Well,  miss,  you  ride  the  fore  horse  to-day. 

Miss.  Ay,  many  a one  says  well,  that  thinks  ill. 

Neverout.  Fie,  miss  ; you  said  that  once  before  ; and,  you  know  too 
much  of  one  thing  is  good  for  nothing. 

Miss.  Why,  sure  we  can’t  say  a good  thing  too  often. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Well,  so  much  for  that,  and  butter  for  fish  ; let  us  call 
another  cause.  Pray,  madam,  does  your  ladyship  know  Mrs.  Nice  ? 

Lady  Smart.  Perfectly  well,  my  lord  ; she’s  nice  by  name,  and  nice 
by  nature. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Is  it  possible  she  could  take  that  booby  Tom  Blunder 
for  love  ? 

Miss.  She  had  good  skill  in  horseflesh,  that  would  choose  a goose  to 
ride  on. 

Lady  A nsw.  Why,  my  lord,  *twas  her  fate  ; they  say,  marriage  and  * 
hanging  go  by  destiny. 

Col . I believe  she’ll  never  be  burnt  for  a witch. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Thev  say,  marriages  are  made  in  Heaven  ; but  I doubt 
when  she  was  married,  she  had  no  friend  there. 

Neverout.  Well,  she’s  got  out  of  God’s  blessing  into  the  warm  sun. 

# St.  Anthony,  having  been  originally  a swineherd,  was  always  painted  with  a 
pig  following  him.  Hence,  as  St.  Anthony  was  never  seen  without  his  pig, 

“ To  follow  like  a Tantiny  pig,”  became  a common  saying,  to  express  a person 
constantly  attending  at  the  heels  of  another. — Ed. 


POLITE  CONVERSATION, \ 


3^1 


Col.  The  fellow's  well  enough  if  he  had  any  guts  in  his  brains. 

Lady  Smart.  They  say,  thereby  hangs  a tale. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Why,  he's  a mere  hobbledehoy,  neither  a man  nor  a 
boy. 

Miss.  Well,  if  I were  to  choose  a husband,  I would  never  be  married 
to  a little  man. 

Neverout.  Pray,  why  so,  miss?  for  they  say  of  all  evils  we  ought  to 
choose  the  least. 

Miss.  Because  folks  would  say,  when  they  saw  us  together,  there  goes 
the  woman  and  her  husband. 

Col.  [to  Lady  Smart].  Will  your  ladyship  be  on  the  Mall  to-morrow 
night  ? 

Lady  Smart . No,  that  won't  be  proper ; you  know  to-morrow’s 
Sunday. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  What  then,  madam  ! they  say,  the  better  day,  the 
better  deed. 

Lady  Answ.  Pray,  Mr.  Neverout,  how  do  you  like  Lady  Fruzz  ? 

Neverout . Pox  on  her  ! she's  as  old  as  Poles.* 

Miss . So  will  you  be,  if  you  ben't  hanged  when  you’re  young. 

Neverout . Come,  miss,  let  us  be  friends  : will  you  go  to  the  park  this 
evening  ? 

Miss.  With  all  my  heart,  and  a piece  of  my  liver  ; but  not  with  you. 

Lady  Smart.  I'll  tell  you  one  thing,  and  that's  not  two  ; Fm  afraid  1 
shall  get  a fit  of  the  headache  to-day. 

Col.  O ! madam,  don't  be  afraid  ; it  comes  with  a fright. 

Miss  [to  Lady  Answer  all].  Madam,  one  of  your  lad)  ship's  lappets  is 
longer  than  t'other. 

Lady  Answ.  Well,  no  matter;  they  that  ride  on  a trotting  horse  will 
ne'er  perceive  it. 

Neverout.  Indeed,  miss,  your  lappets  hang  worse. 

Miss . Well,  I love  a liar  in  my  heart,  and  you  fit  me  to  a hair. 

Miss  rises  up. 

Neverout.  Deuce  take  you,  miss  ; you  trod  on  my  foot : I hope  you 
don't  intend  to  come  to  my  bed-side. 

Miss.  In  troth,  you  are  afraid  of  your  friends,  and  none  of  them  near 
you. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Well  said,  girl  ! [ giving  her  a chuck ] take  that  : they 
say  a chuck  under  the  chin  is  worth  two  kisses. 

Lady  Answ.  But,  Mr.  Neverout,  I wonder  why  such  a handsome, 
straight,  young  gentleman  as  you,  don't  get  some  rich  widow. 

Ld.  Sparkish . Straight ! ay,  straight  as  my  leg,  and  that's  crooked  at 
knee. 

Neverout.  'Faith,  madam,  if  it  rained  rich  widows,  none  of  them 
would  fall  upon  me.  Egad,  I was  born  under  a threepenny  planet, 
never  to  be  worth  a groat. 

Lady  Answ.  No,  Mr.  Neverout : I believe  you  were  born  with  a caul 
on  your  head  ; you  are  such  a favourite  among  the  ladies  : but  what 
think  you  of  widow  Prim  ? she's  immensely  ridi. 

# For  St.  Paul's  church, — 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


Neverout.  Hang  her  ! they  say  her  father  was  a baker. 

Lady  Smart  Ay  ; but  it  is  not,  what  is  she,  but  what  has  she,  now* 
a-days. 

Col.  Tom,  'faith,  put  on  a bold  face  for  once,  and  have  at  the  widow. 
I'll  speak  a good  word  for  you  to  her. 

Lady  Answ . Ay  ; I warrant  you'll  speak  one  word  for  him,  and  two 
for  yourself. 

Miss . Well  ; I had  that  at  my  tongue's  end. 

Lady  Answ.  Why,  miss,  they  say,  good  wits  jump. 

Neverout . 'Faith,  Madam,  I had  rather  marry  a woman  I loved,  in 
her  smock,  than  widow  Prim,  if  she  had  her  weight  in  gold. 

Lady  Smart  Come,  come,  Mr.  Neverout,  marriage  is  honourable, 
but  housekeeping  is  a shrew. 

Lady  Answ . Consider,  Mr.  Neverout,  four  bare  legs  in  a bed,  and 
you  are  a younger  brother. 

Col . Well,  madam  ; the  younger  brother  is  the  better  gentleman  ; 
however,  Tom,  I would  advise  you  to  look  before  you  leap. 

Ld . Sparkish . The  colonel  says  true  ; besides,  you  can't  expect  to 
wive  and  thrive  in  the  same  year. 

Miss  [shuddering].  Lord  ! there's  somebody  walking  over  my  grave. 

Col.  Pray,  Lady  Answerall,  where  was  you  last  Wednesday,  when  I 
did  myself  the  honour  to  wait  on  you  ? I think  your  ladyship  is  one  of 
the  tribe  of  Gad. 

Lady  Answ.  Why,  colonel,  I was  at  church. 

Col.  Nay,  then  will  I be  hanged,  and  my  horse  too. 

Neverout.  I believe  her  ladyship  was  at  a church  with  a chimney 
in  k. 

Miss.  Lord,  my  petticoat ! how  it  hangs  by  jommetry ! 

Neverout.  Perhaps  the  fault  may  be  in  your  shape. 

Miss  [looking gravely].  Come,  Mr.  Neverout,  there's  no  jest  like  the 
true  jest ; but  I suppose  you  think  my  back's  broad  enough  to  bear 
everything. 

Neverout.  Madam,  I humbly  beg  your  pardon. 

Miss.  Well,  sir,  your  pardon  s granted. 

Neverout . Well,  all  things  have  an  end,  and  a pudding  has  two,  up- 
up-on  me-my-my  word  [stutters]. 

Miss.  What  ! Mr.  Neverout,  can't  you  speak  without  a spoon  ? 

Ld.  Sparkish  [to  Lady  Smart\.  Has  your  ladyship  seen  the  duchess 
since  your  falling  out  ? 

Lady  Smart . Never,  my  lord,  but  once  at  a visit ; and  she  looked 
at  me  as  the  devil  looked  over  Lincoln. 

Neverout.  Pray,  miss,  take  a pinch  of  my  snuff. 

Miss.  What  ! you  break  my  head,  and  give  me  a plaster  ; well,  with 
all  my  heart ; once,  and  not  use  it. 

Neverout . Well,  miss,  if  you  wanted  me  and  your  victuals,  you'd  want 
your  two  best  friends. 

Col.  [to  Neverout ].  Tom,  miss  and  you  must  kiss  and  be  friends. 

Neverout  salutes  Miss. 

Miss.  Anything  for  a quiet  life  : my  nose  itched,  and  I knew  I should 
drink  wine,  or  kiss  a fool. 


POLITE  CONVERSATION. 


3^3 


Col  Well,  Tom,  if  that  ben>t  fair,  hang  fair. 

Neverout.  I never  said  a rude  thing  to  a lady  in  my  life. 

Miss.  Here’s  a pin  for  that  lie  ; I’m  sure  liars  had  need  have  £ood 
memories.  Pray,  colonel,  was  not  he  very  uncivil  to  me  but  just  now  ? 

Lady  Answ.  Mr.  Neverout,  if  Miss  will  be  angry  for  nothing,  take 
my  counsel,  and  bid  her  turn  the  buckle  of  her  girdle  behind  her. 

Neverout.  Come,  Lady  Answerall,  I know  better  things  ; miss  and 
I are  good  friends  ; don’t  put  tricks  upon  travellers. 

Col.  Tom,  not  a word  of  the  pudding.  I beg  you. 

Lady  Smart.  Ah,  colonel  ! you’ll  never  be  good  nor  then  neither. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Which  of  the  goods  d’ye  mean  ? good  lor  something, 
or  good  for  nothing  ? 

Miss.  I have  a blister  on  my  tongue  ; yet  I don’t  remember  I told  a 
lie. 

Lady  Answ.  I thought  you  did  just  now. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Pray,  madam,  what  did  thought  do  ? 

Lady  Answ . Well,  for  my  life,  I cannot  conceive  what  your  lordship 
means. 

Ld.  Sparkish . Indeed,  madam,  I meant  no  harm. 

Lady  Smart.  No,  to  be  sure,  my  lord  ! you  are  as  innocent  as  a devil 
of  two  years  old. 

Neverout.  Madam,  they  say,  ill-doers  are  ill  deemers  ; but  I don’t 
apply  it  to  your  ladyship. 

M iss  mending  a hole  in  her  lace . 

Miss.  Well,  you  see,  I’m  mending  ; I hope  I shall  be  good  in  time ; 
look,  Lady  Answerall,  is  it  not  well  mended  ? 

Lady  Answ.  Ay,  this  is  something  like  a tansy. 

Neverout.  ’Faith,  miss,  you  have  mended,  as  a tinker  mends  a kettle ; 
stop  one  hole,  and  make  two. 

Lady  Smart.  Pray,  colonel,  are  you  not  very  much  tann’d  ? 

Col . Yes,  madam  ; but  a cup  of  Christmas  ale  will  soon  wash  it  off. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Lady  Smart,  does  not  your  ladyship  think  Mrs.  Fade 
is  mightily  altered  since  her  marriage  ? 

Lady  Answ . Why,  my  lord,  she  w^as  handsome  in  her  time  ; but 
she  cannot  eat  her  cake  and  have  her  cake  ; I hear  she’s  grown  a mere 
otomy. 

Lady  Smart . Poor  creature  ^ the  black  ox  has  set  his  foot  upon  her 
already. 

Miss.  Ay  ; she  has  quite  lost  the  blue  on  the  plum. 

Lady  Smart.  And  yet,  they  say.  her  husband  is  very  fond  of  her  still. 

Lady  Answ.  O,  madam,  if  she  would  eat  gold,  he  would  give  it  her. 

Neverout  [to  Lady  Smart ].  Madam,  have  you  heard  that  Lady 
Queasy  was  lately  at  the  playhouse  incog.  ? 

Lady  Smart.  What  ! Lady  Queasy  of  all  women  in  the  world  ! do 
you  say  it  upon  rep.  ? 

Neverout.  Poz,  I saw  her  with  my  own  eyes  ; she  sat  among  the  mob 
in  the  gallery  ; her  own  ugly  phiz  ; and  she  saw  me  look  at  her. 

Col.  Her  ladyship  was  plaguily  bamb’d  ; I warrant  it  put  her  into 
the  hips. 

Neverout.  I smoked  her  huge  nose,  and,  egad,  she  put  me  in  mind 


364  DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 

of  the  woodcock,  that  strives  to  hide  his  long  bill,  and  then  thinks  no* 

body  sees  him. 

Cdl.  Tom,  I advise  you,  hold  your  tongue  ; for  you'll  never  say  so 
good  a thing  again. 

Lady  Smart . Miss,  what  are  you  looking  for? 

Miss.  O,  madam,  I have  lost  the  finest  needle — 

Lady  Atisw.  Why,  seek  till  you  find  it,  and  then  you  won't  lose  your 
labour. 

Never  out.  The  loop  of  my  hat  is  broke  ; how  shall  I mend  it  ? [he 
fastens  it  with  a pin].  Well,  hang  him,  say  I,  that  has  no  shift. 

Miss.  Ay,  and  hang  him  that  has  one  too  many. 

Neverout.  O,  miss,  I have  heard  a sad  story  of  you. 

Miss.  I defy  you,  Mr.  Neverout ; nobody  can  say,  black's  my  eye. 

Neverout.  I believe  you  wish  they  could. 

Miss.  Well ; but  who  was  your  author  ? Come,  tell  truth,  and  shame 
the  devil. 

Neverout.  Come  then,  miss  ; guess  who  it  was  that  told  me  ; come, 
put  on  your  considering  cap. 

Miss.  Well,  who  was  it  ? 

Neverout.  Why,  one  that  lives  within  a mile  of  an  oak. 

Miss . Well,  go  hang  yourself  in  your  own  garters,  for  I'm  sure  the 
gallows  groans  for  you. 

Neverout.  Pretty  miss  ! I was  but  in  jest. 

Miss.  Well,  but  don’t  let  that  stick  in  your  gizzard. 

Col.  My  lord,  does  your  Lordship  know  Mrs.  Talkall  ? 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Only  by  sight  ; but  I hear  she  has  a great  deal  of  ! 
wit ; and,  egad,  as  the  saying  is,  mettle  to  the  back. 

Lady  Smart.  So  I hear. 

Col.  Wliy  Dick  Lubber  said  to  her  t'other  day  : “ Madam,  you  can't  < 
cry  Bo  to  a goose."  “ Yes,  but  I can,”  said  she,  and  egad,  cried  Bo  full 
in  his  face.  We  all  thought  we  should  break  our  hearts  with  laughing. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  That  was  cutting  with  a vengeance  ; and  prithee  how 
did  the  tool  look  ? 

Col.  Look  ! egad,  he  looked  for  all  the  world  like  an  owl  in  an  ivy- 
bush. 

A child  comes  in  screaming. 

Miss.  Well,  if  that  child  was  mine,«I'd  whip  it  till  the  blood  came  ; 
peace,  you  little  vixen  ! if  I were  near  you,  I would  not  be  far  from 
you. 

Lady  Smart.  Ay,  ay  ! bachelors'  wives  and  maids'  children  are 
finely  tutored. 

Lady  Answ.  Come  to  me,  master,  and  I'll  give  you  a sugar-plum 
Why,  miss,  you  forget  that  ever  you  was  a child  yourself.  [She  gives 
the  child  a lump  of  sugar. ] I have  heard  'em  say,  boys  will  long. 

Col.  My  lord,  I suppose  you  know  that  Mr.  Buzzard  has  married 
again. 

Lady  Smart.  This  is  his  fourth  wife  ; then  he  has  been  shod  round. 

Col.  Why,  you  must  know,  she  had  a month's  mind  to  Dick  Front- 
less, and  thought  to  run  away  with  him,  but  her  parents  foiced  her  to 
take  the  old  lellow  tor  a good  settlement. 


POLITE  CONVERSATION. 


Ld.  Sparkish . So  the  man  got  his  mare  again. 

Lady  Smart . Pm  told  he  said  a very  good  thing  to  Dick.  Said  he  i 
"You  think  us  old  fellows  are  fools  ; but  we  old  fellows  know  young 
fellows  are  fools.” 

Cot.  I know  nothing  of  that ; but  I know  he’s  devilish  old,  and  she’s 
very  young. 

Lady  Answ.  Why,  they  call  that  a match  of  the  world’s  making. 

Miss.  What  if  he  had  been  young  and  she  old  ? 

Neverout.  Why,  miss,  that  would  have  been  a match  of  the  devil’s 
making ; but  when  both  are  young  that’s  a match  of  God’s  making. 

Miss  searching  her  pocket  for  a thimble , brings  out  a nutmeg. 

Neverout.  Oh,  miss,  have  a care,  for  if  you  carry  a nutmeg  in  your 
pocket,  you’ll  certainly  be  married  to  an  old  man. 

Miss.  Well,  if  I ever  be  married  it  shall  be  to  an  old  man  ; they 
always  make  the  best  husbands,  and  it  is  better  to  be  an  old  man’s 
darling  than  a young  man’s  warling. 

Neverout.  ’Faith,  miss,  if  you  speak  as  you  think,  I’ll  give  you  my 
mother  for  a maid. 

Lady  Smart  rings  the  bell . 

Footman  comes  in. 

Lady  Smart.  Harkee,  you  fellow,  run  to  my  Lady  Match,  and 
desire  she  will  remember  to  be  here  at  six  to  play  at  quadrille  ; d’ye 
hear,  if  you  fall  by  the  way  don’t  stay  to  get  up  again. 

Footman.  Madam,  I don’t  know  the  house. 

Lady  Smart.  That’s  not  for  want  of  ignorance ; follow  your  nose  j 
go,  inquire  among  the  servants. 

Footman  goes  out  and  leaves  the  door  open. 

Lady  Smart.  Here,  come  back,  you  fellow  ; why  did  you  leave  the 
door  open  ? Remember  that  a good  servant  must  always  come  when 
he’s  call’d,  do  what  he’s  bid,  and  shut  the  door  after  him. 

The  Footman  goes  out  again , and  falls  downstairs . 

Lady  Answ.  Neck  or  nothing  ; come  down,  or  I’ll  fetch  you  down  5 
well,  but  I hope  the  poor  fellow  has  not  saved  the  hangman  a labour. 

Neverout.  Pray,  madam,  smoke  miss  yonder,  biting  her  lips  and 
playing  with  her  fan. 

M iss.  Who’s  that  takes  my  name  in  vain  ? 

She  runs  up  to  them , and falls  down . 

Lady  Smart.  What,  more  falling  ! do  you  intend  the  frolic  should 
go  round  ? 

Lady  Answ.  Why,  miss,  I wish  you  may  not  have  broke  her  lady- 
ship’s floor. 

Neverout.  Miss,  come  to  me,  and,  and  I’ll  take  you  up. 

Lady  Sparkish.  Well,  but  without  a jest,  I hope,  miss,  you  are  not  hurt. 

Col.  Nay,  she  must  be  hurt  for  certain,  for  you  see  her  head  is  ail  of 
ft  lump. 


3 66  DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS* 

Miss.  Well,  remember  this,  colonel,  when  I have  money  and  you 
have  none. 

Lady  Smart.  But  colonel,  when  do  you  design  to  get  a house,  and  a 
wife,  and  a fire  to  put  her  in  ? 

Miss.  Lord  ! who  would  be  married  to  a soldier  and  carry  his  knapsack? 

Neverout.  O,  madam,  Mars  and  Venus,  you  know. 

Col.  Egad,  madam,  Pd  marry  to-morrow,  if  I thought  I could  bury 
my  wife  just  when  the  honeymoon  is  over ; but  they  say  a woman  has  as 
many  lives  as  a cat. 

Lady  Answ.  I find,  the  colonel  thinks  a dead  wife  under  the  table 
is  the  best  goods  in  a man's  house. 

Lady  S?nart.  Oh,  but  colonel,  if  you  had  a good  wife,  it  would  break 
your  heart  to  part  with  her. 

Col.  Yes,  madam ; for  they  say,  he  that  has  lost  his  wife  and  six- 
pence has  lost  a tester. 

Lady  Smart.  But,  colonel,  they  say,  that  every  married  man  should 
believe  there’s  but  one  good  wife  in  the  world,  and  that's  his  own. 

Col.  For  all  that,  I doubt,  a good  wife  must  be  bespoke  ; for  there's 
none  ready  made. 

Miss.  I suppose,  the  gentleman's  a woman-hater ; but,  sir,  I think 
you  ought  to  remember  that  you  had  a mother,  and  pray,  if  it  had  not 
been  for  a woman,  where  would  you  have  been,  colonel  ? 

Col.  Nay,  miss,  you  cried  whore  first,  when  you  talked  of  the  knapsack. 

Lady  Answ.  But  I hope  you  won't  blame  the  whole  sex  because 
some  are  bad. 

Neverout.  And  they  say,  he  that  hates  woman  sucked  a sow. 

Col.  Oh,  madam,  there's  no  general  rule  without  an  exception. 

Lady  Smart.  Then,  why  don’t  you  marry,  and  settle  ? 

Col.  Egad,  madam,  there’s  nothing  will  settle  me  but  a bullet. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Weil,  colonel,  there's  one  comtort,  that  you  need  not 
fear  a cannon-bullet. 

Col.  Why  so,  my  lord  ? 

Ld , sparkish.  Because  they  say  he  was  cursed  in  his  mother's  belly 
that  was  killed  by  a cannon-bullet. 

Miss.  I suppose  the  colonel  was  crossed  in  his  first  love,  which  makes 
him  so  severe  on  all  the  sex. 

Lady  Answ.  Yes  ; and  I’ll  hold  a hundred  to  one  that  the  colonel  has 
been  over  head  and  ears  in  love  with  some  lady  that  has  made  his 
heart  ache.  j 

Col.  Oh,  madam,  we  soldiers  are  admirers  of  all  the  fair  sex. 

Miss.  I wish  I could  see  the  colonel  in  love  till  he  was  ready  to  die. 

Lady  Smart . Ay,  but  1 doubt,  few  people  die  for  love  in  the^e  days. 

Neverout.  Well,  I confess,  I differ  from  the  coionel,  for  I hope  to 
have  a rich  and  a handsome  wife  yet  before  I die. 

Col.  Ay,  Tom  ; live,  horse,  and  thou  shalt  have  grass. 

Miss.  Well,  colonel ; but  whatever  you  say  against  women,  they  are 
better  creatures  than  men,  for  men  were  made  of  clay,  but  woman  was 
made  of  man. 

Col.  Miss,  you  may  say  what  you  please  ; but  'faith  you’ll  never  lead 
apes  in  Hell. 

Neverout , No,  no  ; I'll  be  sworn  miss  has  not  an  inch  of  nun's  hesh 
about  her. 


POLITE  CONVERSATION. 


867 

Miss.  I understumble  you,  gentlemen. 

Neverout.  Madam,  your  humblecumdumble. 

Ld \ Sparkish.  Pray,  miss,  when  did  you  see  your  old  acquaintance, 
Mrs.  Cloudy  ? you  and  she  are  two  I hear. 

Miss.  See  her  ; marry,  I don't  care  whether  I ever  see  her  again  ! 
God  bless  my  eyesight. 

Lady  Answ.  Lord  ! why  she  and  you  were  as  great  as  two  inkle- 
weavers.  I've  seen  her  hug  you  as  the  devil  hugged  the  witch. 

Miss.  That’s  true ; but  I'm  told  for  certain,  she’s  no  better  than  she 
should  be. 

Lady  Smart.  Well,  God  mend  us  all ; but  you  must  allow,  the  world 
is  very  censorious  ; I never  heard  that  she  was  a naughty  pack. 

Col . [to  Neverout. ] Come,  Sir  Thomas,  when  the  King  pleases,  when 
do  you  intend  to  march  ? 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Have  patience.  Tom,  is  your  friend  Ned  Rattle 
married  ? 

Neverout.  Yes,  'faith,  my  lord  ; he  has  tied  a knot  with  his  tongue, 
that  he  can  never  untie  with  his  teeth. 

Lady  Smart.  Ah  ! marry  in  haste  and  repent  at  leisure. 

Lady  Answ.  Has  he  got  a good  fortune  with  his  lady?  for  they  say, 
something  has  some  savour,  but  nothing  has  no  flavour. 

Neverout.  ’Faith,  madam,  all  he  gets  by  her  he  may  put  into  his  eye 
and  see  never  the  worse. 

Miss.  Then,  I believe,  he  heartily  wishes  her  in  Abraham’s  bosom. 
Col.  Pray,  my  lord,  how  does  Charles  Limber  and  his  fine  wife 
agree  ? 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Why,  they  say  he’s  the  greatest  cuckold  in  town. 
Neverout.  Oh,  but  my  lord,  you  should  always  except  my  Lord 
Mayor. 

Miss.  Mr,  Neverout ! 

Neverout.  Hay,  madam,  did  you  call  me? 

Miss.  Hay  ! Why  hay  is  for  horses. 

Neverout.  Why,  miss,  then  you  may  kiss— 

Col.  Pray,  my  lord,  what’s  o’clock  by  your  oracle  ? 

Ld.  Sparkish , ’Faith,  I can’t  tell,  I think  my  watch  runs  upon  wheels. 
Neverout . Miss,  pray  be  so  kind  to  call  a servant  to  bring  me  a 
glass  of  small  beer  ; I know  you  are  at  home  here. 

Miss.  Every  fool  can  do  as  they’re  bid ; make  a page  of  your  own 
age,  and  do  it  yourself. 

Neverout . Choose,  proud  fool ; I did  but  ask  you. 

Miss  puts  her  hand  upon  her  knee . 

Neverout.  What,  miss,  are  you  thinking  of  your  sweetheart?  Is 
your  garter  slipping  down  ? 

Miss  Pray,  Mr.  Neverout,  keep  your  breath  to  cool  your  porridge  ; 
you  measure  my  corn  by  your  bushel. 

Neverout . Indeed,  miss,  you  lie — 

Miss , Did  you  ever  hear  anything  so  rude  ? 

Neverout.  I mean  you  lie — under  a mistake. 

Miss.  If  a thousand  lies  could  choke  you,  you  would  have  been 
Choked  many  a day  ago . 


36S 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


Miss  tries  to  snatch  Mr.  Neverout  s snuff-box. 

Neverout.  Madam,  you  missed  that,  as  you  missed  your  mother’s 
blessing. 

She  tries  again  and  misses. 

Neverout.  Snap  short  makes  you  look  so  lean,  miss. 

Miss.  Poh  ! you  are  so  robustious,  you  had  like  to  put  out  my  eye 
I asssure  you,  if  you  blind  me,  you  must  lead  me. 

Lady  Smart.  Dear  miss,  be  quiet,  and  bring  me  a pincushion  out  of 
that  closet. 

Miss  opens  the  closet-door  and  squalls . 

Lady  Smart.  Lord  bless  the  girl ! what’s  the  matter  now  ? 

Miss.  I vow,  madam,  I saw  something  in  black  : I thought  it  was  a 
spirit. 

Col.  Why,  miss,  did  you  ever  see  a spirit  ? 

Miss,  No,  sir  ; I thank  God  I never  saw  anything  worse  than  my- 
self. 

Neverout , Well,  I did  a very  foolish  thing  yesterday,  and  was  a 
great  puppy  for  my  pains. 

Miss.  Very  likely  ; for  they  say,  many  a true  word’s  spoke  in  jest. 

Footman  returns. 

Lady  Smart,  Well,  did  you  deliver  your  message  ? You  are  fit  to  be 
sent  for  sorrow,  you  stay  so  long  by  the  way. 

Footman.  Madam,  my  lady  was  not  at  home,  so  I did  not  leave  the 
message. 

Lady  Smart.  This  it  is  to  send  a fool  of  an  errand. 

Ld.  Sparkish  [ looking  at  his  watch.\  Tis  past  twelve  o’clock. 

Lady  Smart.  Well,  what  is  that  among  all  us  ? 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Madam,  I must  take  my  leave  : come,  gentlemen,  are 
you  for  a march  ? 

Lady  Smart.  Well,  but  your  Lordship  and  the  colonel  will  dine  with 
us  to-day ; and,  Mr.  Neverout,  I hope  we  shall  have  your  good  com- 
pany: there  will  be  no  soul  else,  beside  my  own  lord  and  these  ladies; 
for  everybody  knows  I hate  a crowd  ; I would  rather  want  victuals  than 
elbow-room  ; we  dine  punctually  at  three. 

Ld.  Spa?'kish.  Madam,  we’ll  be  sure  to  attend  your  ladyship. 

Col.  Madam,  my  stomach  serves  me  instead  of  a clock. 

Another  footman  comes  back. 

Lady  Smart.  O ! you  are  the  t’other  fellow  I sent ; well,  have  you 
been  with  my  Lady  Club  ? You  are  good  to  send  of  a dead  man’s 
errand. 

Footman . Madam,  my  Lady  Club  begs  your  ladyship’s  pardon  ; but 
she  is  engaged  to-night. 

Miss.  Weil,  Mr.  Neverout,  here’s  the  back  of  my  hand  to  you. 

Neverout.  Miss,  I find  you  will  have  the  last  word.  Ladies,  I am 
more  yours  than  my  own. 


POLITE  CONVERSATION. 


369 


DIALOGUE  II. 

Lord  Smart  and  the  former  company  at  three  o'clock  coming  to  dine. 

After  salutations. 

Lord  Smart.  X’M  sorry  I was  not  at  home  this  morning  when  you 
all  did  us  the  honour  to  call  here  ; but  I went  to  the  levee  to-day. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  O ! my  lord  ^ I’m  sure  the  loss  was  ours. 

Lady  Smart.  Gentlemen  and  ladies,  you  are  come  to  a sad  dirty 
house  ; I am  sorry  for  it,  but  we  have  had  our  hands  in  mortar. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  O ! madam,  your  ladyship  is  pleased  to  say  so  ; but  I 
never  saw  anything  so  clean  and  so  fine  ; I profess,  it  is  a perfect  para- 
dise. 

Lady  Smart.  My  lord,  your  lordship  is  always  very  obliging. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Pray,  madam,  whose  picture  is  that  ? 

Lady  Smart.  Why,  my  lord,  it  was  drawn  for  me. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Pll  swear  the  painter  did  not  flatter  your  ladyship. 

Col.  My  lord,  the  day  is  finely  cleared  up. 

Ld.  Smart.  Ay,  Colonel ; ’tis  a pity  that  fair  weather  should  ever  do 
any  harm.  [To  Neverout.\  Why,  Tom,  you  are  high  in  the  mode. 

Neverout.  My  lord,  it  is  better  to  be  out  of  the  world  than  out  of  the 
fashion. 

Ld.  Smart.  But,  Tom,  I hear  you  and  miss  are  always  quarrelling : 
I fear  it  is  your  fault ; for  I can  assure  you  she  is  very  good-humoured. 

Neverout.  Ay,  my  lord  ; so  is  the  devil  when  he’s  pleased. 

Ld.  Smart.  Miss,  what  do  you  think  of  my  friend  Tom  ? 

Miss.  My  lord,  I think  he’s  not  the  wisest  man  in  the  world  ; and 
truly  he’s  sometimes  very  rude. 

Ld.  Sparkish . That  may  be  true  ; but  yet  he  that  hangs  Tom  for  a 
fool,  may  find  a knave  in  the  halter. 

Miss.  Well,  however,  I wish  he  were  hanged,  if  it  were  only  to  try. 

Neverout . Well,  miss,  if  I must  be  hanged,  I won’t  go  far  to  choose 
my  gallows  ; it  shall  be  about  your  fair  neck. 

Miss.  I’ll  see  your  nose  cheese  first,  and  the  dogs  eating  it.  But,  my 
lord,  Mr.  Neverout’s  wit  begins  to  run  low  : for  I vow  he  said  this 
before  ; pfay,  Colonel,  give  him  a pinch,  and  I’ll  do  as  much  for  you. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  My  Lady  Smart,  your  ladyship  has  a very  fine  scarf. 

Lady  Smart . Yes,  my  lord,  it  will  make  a flaming  figure  in  a country 
church. 

Footman  coines  in. 

Footman.  Madam,  dinner’s  upon  the  table. 

Col.  ’Faith,  I am  glad  of  it  ; my  belly  began  to  cry  cupboard. 

Neverout.  I wish  I may  never  hear  worse  news. 

Miss.  What ! Mr.  Neverout,  you  are  in  great  haste  ; I believe  your 
belly  thinks  your  throat  is  cut. 

Neverout.  No,  ’faith,  miss  ; three  meals  a day,  and  a good  supper  a| 
night,  will  serve  my  turn. 

Miss.  To  say  the  truth,  I’m  hungry. 

Neverout.  And  I’m  angry ; so  let  us  both  go  fight. 

*4 


37°  DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS . 

They  go  in  to  dmner , and,  after  the  usual  compliments , take  their  seats. 

Lady  Smart . Ladies  and  gentlemen,  will  you  eat  any  oysters  before 
dinner  ? 

Col.  With  all  my  heart  [ takes  an  oyster ].  He  was  a bold  man  that 
first  eat  an  oyster. 

Lady  Smart.  They  say  oysters  are  a cruel  meat,  because  we  eat 
them  alive  ; then  they  are  an  uncharitable  meat,  for  we  leave  nothing 
to  the  poor ; and  they  are  an  ungodly  meat,  because  we  never  say 
grace. 

Neverout  ’Faith,  that’s  as  well  said  as  if  I had  said  it  myself. 

Lady  Smart.  Well,  we  are  well  set  if  we  be  but  as  well  served. 
Come,  Colonel,  handle  your  arms.  Shall  I help  you  to  some  beef? 

Col.  If  your  ladyship  please  : and,  pray,  don’t  cut  like  a mother-in- 
law,  but  send  me  a large  slice,  for  I love  to  lay  a good  foundation.  I 
vow,  ’tis  a noble  sirloin. 

Neverout.  Ay  ; here’s  cut  and  come  again. 

Miss.  But,  pray,  why  is  it  called  a sirloin? 

Ld.  Smart,  Why,  you  must  know  that  our  King  James  the  First,  who 
loved  good  eating,  being  invited  to  dinner  by  one  of  his  nobles,  and 
seeing  a large  loin  of  beef  at  his  table,  he  drew  out  his  sword,  and  in  a 
frolic  knighted  it.  Few  people  know  the  secret  of  this. 

Lady  Sparkish.  Beef  is  man’s  meat,  my  lord. 

Ld.  Smart.  But,  my  lord,  I say  beef  is  the  king  of  meat. 

Miss.  Pray,  what  have  I done  that  I must  not  have  a plate? 

Lady  Smart  [to  Lady  Answ].  What  will  your  ladyship  please  to 
eat? 

Lady  Answ.  Pray,  madam,  help  yourself. 

Col.  They  say  eating  and  scratching  wants  but  a beginning : if  j 
you’ll  give  me  leave,  I’ll  help  myself  to  a slice  of  this  shoulder  of  veal. 

Lady  Smart.  Colonel,  you  can’t  do  a kinder  thing  : well,  you  are  all 
heartily  welcome,  as  I may  say. 

Col.  They  say  there  are  thirty  and  two  good  bits  in  a shoulder  of 
veal. 

Lady  Smart.  Ay,  Colonel,  thirty  bad  bits  and  two  good  ones  ; you 
see  I understand  you  ; but  I hope  you  have  got  one  of  the  two  good 
ones. 

Neverotit.  Colonel,  I’ll  be  of  your  mess.  “ 

Col.  Then  pray,  Tom,  carve  for  yourself;  they  say,  two  hands  in  a 
dish,  and  one  in  a purse.  Hah  ! said  I well,  Tom  ? 

Neverout.  Colonel,  you  spoke  like  an  oracle. 

Miss  [to  Lady  Answ].  Madam,  will  your  ladyship  help  me  to  some 
fish  ? 

Ld.  Smart  [to  Neverout ].  Tom,  they  say  fish  should  swim  thrice. 

Nevei'out.  How  is  that,  my  lord  ? 

Ld.  S?nart.  Why,  Tom,  first  it  should  swim  in  the  sea  (do  you  mind 
me?),  then  it  should  swim  in  butter,  and  at  last,  sirrah,  it  should  swim 
in  good  claret.  I think  I have  made  it  out. 

Footman  [to  Ld.  Smart].  My  lord.  Sir  John  Linger  is  coming  up. 

Ld.  Smart.  God  so  ! I invited  him  to  dine  with  me  to-day,  and 
forgot  it : well,  desire  him  to  walk  in. 


POLITE  CONVERSATION 


371 


Sir  John  Linger  comes  in. 

Sir  John.  What ! you  are  at  it ! why,  then,  Til  be  gone. 

Lady  Smart.  Sir  John,  I beg  you  will  sit  down  ; come,  the  more  the 
merrier. 

Sir  John.  Ay  ; but  the  fewer  the  better  cheer. 

Lady  Smart.  Well,  I am  the  worst  in  the  world  at  making  apologies  ; 
it  was  my  lord's  fault  : I doubt  you  must  kiss  the  hare's  foot. 

Sir  John.  I see  you  are  fast  by  the  teeth. 

Col.  'Faith,  Sir  John,  we  are  killing  that  that  would  kill  us. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  You  see,  Sir  John,  we  are  upon  a business  of  life  and 
death.  Come,  will  you  do  as  we  do?  You  are  come  in  pudding- 
time. 

Sir  John.  Ay ; this  would  be  doing  if  I were  dead.  What ! you 
keep  court  hours  I see  : I'll  be  going,  and  get  a bit  of  meat  at  my  inn. 

Lady  Smart.  Why,  we  won't  eat  you,  Sir  John. 

Sir  John.  It  is  my  own  fault ; but  I was  kept  by  a fellow  who  bought 
some  Derbyshire  oxen  of  me. 

Neverout.  You  see,  Sir  John,  we  stayed  for  you  as  one  horse  does  for 
another. 

Lady  Smart.  My  lord,  will  you  help  Sir  John  to  some  beef?  Lady 
Answerall,  pray  eat : you  see  your  dinner.  I am  sure,  if  we  had  known 
we  should  have  such  good  company,  we  should  have  been  better  pro- 
vided ; but  you  must  take  the  will  for  the  deed.  I'm  afraid  you  are 
invited  to  your  loss. 

Col.  And  pray,  Sir  John,  how  do  you  like  the  town  ? You  have  been 
absent  a long  time. 

Sir  John.  Why,  I find  little  London  stands  just  where  it  did  when 
I left  it  last. 

Neverout.  What  do  you  think  of  Hanover  Square?  Why,  Sir  John, 
London  is  gone  out  of  town  since  you  saw  it. 

Lady  Smart.  Sir  John,  I can  only  say,  you  are  heartily  welcome  ; 
and  I wish  I had  something  better  for  you. 

Col.  Here's  no  salt ; cuckolds  will  run  away  with  the  meat. 

Ld.  Smart.  Pray  edge  a little,  to  make  more  room  for  Sir  John.  Sir 
John,  fall  to  ; you  know,  half  an  hour  is  soon  lost  at  dinner. 

Sir  John.  I protest,  I can't  eat  a bit,  for  I took  share  of  a beef- 
steak and  two  mugs  of  ale  with  my  chapman,  besides  a tankard  of 
March  beer,  as  soon  as  I got  out  of  my  bed. 

Lady  Answ.  Not  fresh  and  fasting,  I hope? 

Sir  John.  Yes,  'faith,  madam ; I always  wash  my  kettle  before  I put 
the  meat  in  it. 

Lady  Smart.  Poh  ! Sir  John,  you  have  seen  nine  houses  since  you 
eat  last.  Come,  you  have  kept  a corner  in  your  stomach  for  a piece  of 
venison  pasty. 

Sir  John.  Well,  I'll  try  what  I can  do  when  it  comes  up. 

Lady  Answ.  Come,  Sir  John,  you  may  go  further  and  fare  worse. 

Mis ^ [to  Never  out.}  Pray,  Mr.  Neverout,  will  you  please  to  send  me 
a piece  of  tongue  ? 

Neverout.  By  no  means,  madam : one  tongue's  enough  for  a woman 

Col.  Miss,  here's  a tongue  that  never  told  a lie. 


24— 2 


372  DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 

Miss.  That  was  because  it  could  not  speak.  Why,  Colonel.  I never 
told  a lie  in  my  life. 

Neverout.  I appeal  to  all  the  company,  whether  that  be  not  the 
greatest  lie  that  ever  was  told  ? 

Col.  [to  Neverout ].  Prithee,  Tom,  send  me  the  two  legs  and  rump 
and  liver  of  that  pigeon  ; for,  you  must  know,  I love  what  nobody  else 
loves. 

Neverout.  But  what  if  any  of  the  ladies  should  long?  Well,  here 
take  it,  and  the  d 1 do  you  good  with  it. 

Lady  Answ . Well ; this  eating  and  drinking  takes  away  a body’s 
stomach. 

Neverout.  I am  sure  I have  lost  mine. 

Miss.  What  ! the  bottom  of  it,  I suppose? 

Never out.  No,  really,  miss,  I have  quite  lost  it. 

Miss.  I should  be  very  sorry  a poor  body  had  found  it 

Lady  Smart.  But,  Sir  John,  we  hear  you  are  married  since  we  saw 
you  last.  What ! you  have  stolen  a wedding,  it  seems  ? 

Sir  John.  Well ; one  can’t  do  a foolish  thing  once  in  one’s  life,  but 
one  must  hear  of  it  a hundred  times. 

Col.  And  pray,  Sir  John,  how  does  your  lady  unknown? 

Sir  John . My  wife’s  well,  Colonel,  and  at  your  service  in  a civil  way. 
Ha,  ha  ! [He  laughs. 

Miss.  Pray,  Sir  John,  is  your  lady  tall  or  short? 

Sir  John.  Why,  miss,  I thank  God,  she  is  a little  eviL 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Come,  give  me  a glass  of  claret. 

Footman  Jills  him  a bumper* 

t 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Why  do  you  fill  so  much  ? i 

Neverout.  My  lord,  he  fills  as  he  loves  you. 

Lady  Smart.  Miss,  shall  I send  you  some  cucumber? 

Miss.  Madam,  1 dare  not  touch  it : for  they  say,  cucumbers  are  cold 
in  the  third  degree.  % 

Lady  Smart.  Mr.  Neverout,  do  you  love  pudding  ? 

Neverout.  Madam,  I’m  like  all  fools,  I love  everything  that  is  good; 
but  the  proof  of  the  pudding  is  in  the  eating. 

Col.  Sir  John,  I hear  you  are  a great  walker  when  you  are  at  home. 

Sir  John.  No,  ’faith,  Colonel  ; 1 always  love  to  walk  with  a horse  in  1 
my  hand:  but  I have  had  devilish  bad  luck  in  horse-flesh  of  late. 

Ld.  Smart.  Why,  then,  Sir  John,  you  must  kiss  a parson’s  wife. 

Lady  Smart.  They  say,  Sir  J ohn,  that  your  lady  has  a great  deal  of  1 
wit. 

Sir  John.  Madam,  she  can  make  a pudding  ; and  has  just  wit  enough 
to  know  her  husband’s  breeches  from  another  man’s. 

Ld.  Smart.  My  Lord  Sparkish,  I have  some  excellent  cider  : will 
you  please  to  taste  it  ? 

Ld.  Sparkish.  My  lord,  I should  like  it  well  enough,  if  it  were  not 
treacherous. 

Ld.  Smart.  Pray,  my  lord,  how  is  it  treacherous  ? 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Because  it  smiles  in  my  face,  and  cuts  my  throat. 

[Here  a loud  laugh . 


POLITE  CONVERSATION. 


373 

Miss . Odd  so  ! madam;  your  knives  are  very  sharp, for  I have  cut 
my  finger. 

Lady  Smart . I am  sorry  for  it : pray,  which  finger  ? (God  bless  the 
mark  !) 

Miss.  Why,  this  finger:  no, ’tis  this  : I vow  I can’t  find  which  it  is. 

Neverout.  Ay ; the  fox  had  a wound  and  he  could  not  tell  where, 
&c.  Bring  some  water  to  throw  in  her  face. 

Miss.  Pray,  Mr.  Neverout,  did  you  ever  draw  a sword  in  anger?  I 
warrant,  you  would  faint  at  the  sight  of  your  own  blood. 

Lady  Smart.  Mr.  Neverout,  shall  I send  you  some  veal  ? 

Neverout . No,  madam  ; I don’t  love  it. 

Miss.  Then  pray  for  them  that  do.  I desire  your  ladyship  will  send 
me  a bit. 

Ld . Smart . Tom,  my  service  to  you. 

Neverout.  My  lord,  this  moment  I did  myself  the  honour  to  drink  to 
your  lordship. 

Ld.  Smart.  Why,  then,  that’s  Hertfordshire  kindness. 

Neverout.  ’Faith,  my  lord,  I pledged  myself ; for  I drank  twice  to- 
gether without  thinking. 

Ld.  Sparkish . Why,  then,  Colonel,  my  humble  service  to  you. 

Neverout.  Pray,  my  lord,  don’t  make  a bridge  of  my  nose. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Well,  a glass  of  this  wine  is  as  comfortable  as  matri- 
mony to  an  old  woman. 

Col.  Sir  John,  I design  one  of  these  days  to  come  and  beat  up  your 
quarters  in  Derbyshire. 

Sir  John.  ’Faith,  Colonel,  come  and  welcome  : and  stay  away,  and 
heartily  welcome  : but  you  were  born  within  the  sound  of  Bow  bell, 
and  don’t  care  to  stir  so  far  from  London. 

Miss.  Pray,  Colonel,  send  me  some  fritters. 

Colonel  takes  them  out  with  his  hand. 

Col.  Here,  miss;  they  say  fingers  were  made  before  forks,  and  hands 
before  knives. 

Lady  Sinart.  Methinks  this  pudding  is  too  much  boiled. 

Lady  Answ.  O ! madam,  they  say  a pudding  is  poison  when  it  is  too 
much  boiled. 

Neverout.  Miss,  shall  I help  you  to  a pigeon  ? here’s  a pigeon  so 
finely  roasted  it  cries,  Come  eat  me. 

Miss.  No,  sir;  I thank  you. 

Neverout.  Why,  then  you  may  choose. 

Miss.  I have  chosen  already. 

Neverout.  Well,  you  may  be  worse  offered  before  you  are  twice 
married. 

The  Colonel  Jills  a large  plate  of  soup. 

Ld.  Smart.  Why,  Colonel,  you  don’t  mean  to  eat  all  that  soup  ? 

Col.  O,  my  lord,  this  is  my  sick  dish  ; when  I’m  well  Pi i have  a 
bigger. 

Miss  [to  Col.].  Sup,  Simon  ; very  good  broth. 

Neverout.  This  seems  to  be  a good  pullet. 

Miss.  I warrant,  Mr.  Neverout  knows  what’s  good  for  himself. 


S74 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


Ld.  Sparkish.  Tom,  I sha’n’t  take  your  word  for  it ; help  me  to  a 
wing. 

Never  out  tries  to  cut  off  a wing. 

Neverout.  Egad,  I can't  hit  the  joint. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Why,  then,  think  of  a cuckold. 

Neverout.  O,  now  I have  nicked  it.  [ Gives  it  to  Ld.  Sparkish. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Why,  a man  may  eat  this,  though  his  wife  lay  a 
dying. 

Col.  Pray,  friend,  give  me  a glass  of  small  beer,  if  it  be  good. 

Ld.  Smart.  Why,  Colonel,  they  say  there  is  no  such  thing  as  good 
small  beer,  good  brown  bread,  or  a good  old  woman. 

Lady  Smart  [to  Lady  Answ.].  Madam,  I beg  your  ladyship’s  pardon; 

I did  not  see  you  when  I was  cutting  that  bit. 

Lady  Answ.  O ! madam  ; after  you  is  good  manners. 

Lady  Smart.  Lord  ! here’s  a hair  in  the  sauce. 

Lady  Sparkish.  Then  set  the  hounds  after  it. 

Neverout.  Pray,  Colonel,  help  me  however  to  some  of  that  same 
sauce. 

Col.  Come,  I think  you  are  more  sauce  than  pig. 

Ld.  Smart.  Sir  John,  cheer  up  ; my  service  to  you:  well,  what  do 
you  think  of  the  world  to  come  ? 

Sir  John.  Truly,  my  lord,  I think  of  it  as  little  as  I can. 

Lady  Smart  [putting  a skewer  on  a plate .]  Here,  take  this  skewer, 
and  carry  it  down  to  the  cook,  to  dress  it  for  her  own  dinner. 

Neverout.  I beg  your  ladyship’s  pardon  ; but  this  small  beer  is  dead. 

Lady  Smart.  Why,  then  let  it  be  buried. 

Col.  This  is  admirable  black  pudding  : miss,  shall  I carve  you  some  ? * 
I can  just  carve  pudding,  and  that’s  all  ; I am  the  worst  carver  in  the 
world  ; I should  never  make  a good  chaplain. 

Miss.  No  thank  ye,  Colonel ; for  they  say  those  that  eat  black  pud- 
ding will  dream  of  the  devil. 

Ld.  Smart.  O,  here  comes  the  venison  pasty  : here,  take  the  soup 
away. 

Ld.  Smart  [He  cuts  it  upy  and  tastes  the  venison ].  ’Sbuds,  this  venison 
is  musty. 

Neverout  eats  a hit , and  it  burns  his  mouth. 

Ld.  Smart.  What’s  the  matter,  Tom?  you  have  tears  in  your  eyes,  I 
think  : what  dost  cry  for,  man  ? 

Neverout.  My  lord,  I was  just  thinking  of  my  poor  grandmother ! 
she  died  just  this  very  day  seven  years. 

Miss  takes  a bit  and  burns  her  mouth. 

Neverout.  And  pray,  miss,  why  do  you  cry,  too  ? 

Miss.  Because  you  were  not  hanged  the  day  your  grandmother  died. 

Ld.  Smart.  I’d  have  given  forty  pounds,  miss,  to  have  said  that 

Col.  Egad.  I think  the  more  I eat,  the  hungrier  I am. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Why,  colonel,  they  say  one  shoulder  of  mutton  drives 
down  another. 

Neverout.  Egad,  if  I were  to  fast  for  my  life,  I would  take  a good 


POLITE  CONVERSATION.  375 

breakfast  in  the  morning,  a good  dinner  at  noon,  and  a good  supper 
at  night. 

Ld . Sparkish . My  lord,  this  venison  is  plaguily  peppered ; your 
cook  has  a heavy  hand. 

Ld.  Smart.  My  lord,  I hope  you  are  pepper-proof : come,  here's  a 
health  to  the  founders. 

Laciy  Smart.  Ay  ; and  to  the  confound ers  too. 

Ld.  Smart . Lady  Answerall,  does  not  your  ladyship  love  venison  r 

Lady  Answ.  No,  my  lord,  I can't  endure  it  in  my  sight : therefore 
please  to  send  me  a good  piece  of  meat  and  crust.  ^ 

Ld.  Sparkish  [ drinks  to  Neverout].  Come,  Tom  ; not  always  to  my 
friends,  but  once  to  you. 

Neverout  [ drinks  to  Lady  Smart].  Come,  madam  ; here's  a health  to 
our  friends,  and  hang  the  rest  of  our  kin. 

Lady  Smart  [to  Lady  Answ.]  Madam,  will  your  ladyship  have  any 
of  this  hare  ? 

Lady  Answ.  No,  madam  ; they  say, 'tis  melancholy  meat. 

Lady  Smart.  Then,  madam,  shall  I send  you  the  brains  ? I beg  your 
ladyship's  pardon  ; for  they  say,  'tis  not  good  manners  to  offer  brains. 

Lady  Answ.  No  madam  : for  perhaps  it  will  make  me  hare-brained. 

Neverout . Miss,  I must  tell  you  one  thing. 

Miss  [with  a glass  in  her  hand ]•  Hold  your  tongue,  Mr.  Neverout ; 
don't  speak  in  my  tip. 

Col.  Well,  he  was  an  ingenious  man  that  first  found  out  eating  and 
drinking. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Of  all  victuals  drink  digests  the  quickest : give  me  a 
glass  of  wine. 

Neverout.  My  lord,  your  wine  is  too  strong. 

Ld.  Smart.  Ay,  Tom,  as  much  as  you're  too  good. 

Miss.  This  almond  pudding  was  pure  good  ; but  it  is  grown  quite  cold. 

Neverout.  So  much  the  better,  miss,  cold  pudding  will  settle  your 
love. 

Miss.  Pray,  Mr.  Neverout,  are  you  going  to  take  a voyage  ? 

Neverout.  Why  do  you  ask,  miss  ? 

Miss.  Because  you  have  laid  in  so  much  beef. 

Sir  John.  You  two  have  eat  up  the  whole  pudding  between  you. 

Miss.  Sir  John,  here's  a little  bit  left ; will  you  please  to  have  it  ? 

Sir  John.  No,  thankee  ; I don't  love  to  make  a fool  of  my  mouth. 

Col.  [calling  to  the  butler].  John,  is  your  small  beer  good? 

Butler.  An  please  your  honour,  my  lord  and  lady  like  it ; I think  it 
Is  good. 

Col.  Why  then,  John,  d'ye  see,  if  you  are  sure  your  small  beer  is 
good,  d'ye  mark?  then,  give  me  a glass  of  wine.  [All  laugh.] 

Colonel  tasting  the  wine. 

Ld.  Smart.  Sir  John,  how  does  your  neighbour  Gatherall,  of  the 
Peak  ? I hear  he  has  lately  made  a purchase. 

Sir  J#hn.  O ! Dick  Gatherall  knows  how  to  butter  his  bread  as  well 
as  any  man  in  Derbyshire. 

Ld.  Smart.  Why  he  used  to  go  very  fine,  when  he  was  here  in  town. 

Sir  John . Ay ; and  it  became  him,  as  a saddle  becomes  a sow. 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


37$ 

Col.  I know  his  lady,  and  I think  she  is  a very  good  woman. 

Sir  John.  'Faith,  she  has  more  goodness  in  her  little  finger  than  ho 
has  in  his  whole  body, 

Ld.  Smart . Well,  Colonel,  how  do  you  like  that  wine  ? 

Col.  This  wine  should  be  eaten,  it  is  too  good  to  be  drunk. 

Ld.  Smart.  I'm  very  glad  you  like  it ; and  pray  don't  spare  it. 

Col.  No,  my  lord  ; I’ll  never  starve  in  a cook’s  shop. 

Ld.  Smart.  And  pray,  Sir  John,  what  do  you  say  to  my  wine? 

Sir  John.  I'll  take  another  glass  first  : second  thoughts  are  best. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Pray,  Lady  Smart,  you  sit  near  that  ham  ; will  you 
please  to  send  me  a bit  ? 

Lady  Smart.  With  all  my  heart.  [She  sends  him  a piece.]  Pray, 
my  lord,  how  do  you  like  it  ? 

Ld.  Sparkish.  I think  it  is  a limb  of  Lot's  wife.  [He  eats  it  with 
mustard.]  Egad,  my  lord,  your  mustard  is  very  uncivil. 

Lady  Smart.  Why  uncivil,  my  lord  ? 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Because  it  takes  me  by  the  nose,  egad. 

Lady  Smart.  Mr.  Neverout,  I find  you  are  a very  good  carver. 

Col.  O madam,  that  is  no  wonder ; for  you  must  know,  Tom  Never- 
out carves  o’ Sundays. 

Neverout  overturns  the  salt-cellar. 

Lady  Smart.  Mr.  Neverout,  you  have  overturned  the  salt,  and  that's 
a sign  of  anger  : I'm  afraid  miss  and  you  will  fall  out 

Lady  Answ . No,  no  ; throw  a little  of  it  into  the  fire,  and  all  will  be 
well.  j 

Neverout.  O,  madam,  the  falling  out  of  lovers,  you  know — 

Miss.  Lovers  ! very  fine  ! fall  out  with  him  ! I wonder  when  we 
Were  in.  < 

Sir  John.  For  my  part,  I believe  the  young  gentlewoman  is  his  ■ 
sweetheart,  there  is  so  much  fooling  and  fiddling  betwixt  them  ; I'm 
sure,  they  say  in  our  country,  that  shiddle-come  sh — 's  the  beginning 
of  love. 

Miss.  I own  I love  Mr.  Neverout  as  the  devil  loves  holy  water  : I 
love  him  like  pie,  I'd  rather  the  devil  had  him  than  I. 

Neverout.  Miss,  I'll  tell  you  one  thing. 

Miss.  Come,  here's  t'ye,  to  stop  your  mouth. 

Neverout.  I'd  rather  you  would  stop  it  with  a kiss. 

Miss.  A kiss  ! marry  come  up,  my  dirty  cousin  ; are  you  no  sicker  ? 
Lord  ! I winder  what  fool  it  was  that  first  invented  kissing  ! 

Neverout.  Well,  I'm  very  dry.  j 

Miss.  Then  you're  the  better  to  burn  and  the  worse  to  fry. 

Lady  Answ.  God  bless  you,  colonel,  you  have  a good  stroke  with 
you. 

Col.  O,  madam,  formerly  I could  eat  all,  but  now  I leave  nothing  , I 
Cat  but  one  meal  a day. 

Miss.  What  ! 1 suppose,  colonel,  that  is  from  morning  till  night. 
Neverout.  'Faith,  miss  ; and  well  was  his  wont. 

Ld.  Smart.  Pray,  Lady  Answerall,  taste  this  bit  of  venison.* 

Lady  Answ.  I hope  your  lordship  will  set  me  a good  example. 

Ld.  Smart.  Here's  a glass  of  cider  filled  : miss,  you  must  drink  it 


POLITE  CONVERSATION. 


377 


Miss.  Indeed,  my  lord,  I can't. 

Never  out  Come,  miss  ; better  belly  burst,  than  good  liquor  be  lost. 

Miss.  Pish  ! well  in  life  there  was  never  anything  so  teasing  : 1 had 
father  shed  it  in  my  shoes  : I wish  it  were  in  your  guts,  for  my  share. 

Ld.  Smart.  Mr.  Neverout,  you  ha'nt  tasted  my  cider  yet. 

Neverout.  No,  my  lord  ; I have  been  just  eating  soup  ; and  they  say, 
if  one  drinks  with  one's  porridge,  one  will  cough  in  one’s  grave. 

Ld.  Smart.  Come,  take  miss's  glass,  she  wished  it  was  in  your  guts  ; 
let  her  have  her  wish  for  once  : ladies  can’t  abide  to  have  their  in- 
clinations crossed. 

Lady  Smart  [to  Sir  John].  I think,  Sir  John,  you  have  not  tasted  the 
venison  yet. 

Sir  John.  I seldom  eat  it,  madam  ; however,  please  to  send  me  a 
little  of  the  crust. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Why,  Sir  John,  you  had  as  good  eat  the  devil  as  the 
fcroth  he  is  boiled  in. 

Col.  Well,  this  eating  and  drinking  takes  away  a body's  stomach,  as 
Lady  Answerall  says. 

Neverout.  I have  dined  as  well  as  my  lord  mayor. 

Miss.  I thought  I could  have  eaten  this  wing  of  a chicken  ; but  my 
eye’s  bigger  than  my  belly. 

Ld.  Smart.  Indeed,  Lady  Answerall,  you  have  eaten  nothing. 

Lady  Answ.  Pray,  my  lord,  see  all  the  bones  on  my  plate  : they  say 
a carpenter's  known  by  his  chips. 

Neverout.  Miss,  will  you  reach  me  that  glass  of  jelly? 

Miss  [giving  it  to  him].  You  see,  'tis  but  ask  and  have. 

Neverout.  Miss,  I would  have  a bigger  glass. 

Miss.  What?  you  dpn't  know  your  own  mind  ; you  are  neither  well, 
full  nor  fasting  : I think  that  is  ^nough. 

Neverout.  Ay,  one  of  the  enoughs  ; I am  sure  it  is  little  enough. 

Miss.  Yes  ; but  you  know,  sweet  things  are  bad  for  the  teeth. 

Neverout  (to  Lady  Answ).  Madam,  I don't  like  that  part  of  the  veal 
you  sent  me. 

Lady  Answ.  Well,  Mr.  Neverout,  I find  you  are  a true  Englishman; 
you  never  know  when  you  are  well. 

Col.  Well,  I have  made  my  whole  dinner  of  beef. 

Lady  Answ.  Why,  Colonel,  a belly  full's  a belly  full,  if  it  be  but  of 
wheat  straw. 

Col.  Well,  after  all,  kitchen  physic  is  the  best  physic. 

Lady  Smart . And  the  best  doctors  in  the  world  are  doctor  diet, 
doctor  quiet,  and  doctor  merryman. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  What  do  you  think  of  a little  house  well  filled? 

Sir  John.  And  a little  land  well  tilled  ? 

Col.  Ay  ; and  a little  wife  well  willed  ? 

Neverout  My  Lady  Smart,  pray  help  me  to  some  of  the  breast  of  that 
goose. 

Ld.  Smart  Tom,  I have  heard  that  goose  upon  goose  is  false 
heraldry. 

Miss.  What  ! will  you  never  have  done  stuffing  ? 

Ld.  Smart.  This  goose  is  quite  raw ; well,  God  sends  meat,  but  the 
devil  sends  cooks. 


373 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


Neverout.  Miss,  can  you  tell  which  is  the  gander,  the  white  goose  or 

the  grey  goose  ? 

Miss.  They  say,  a fool  will  ask  more  questions  than  the  wisest  body 
can  answer. 

Col.  Indeed,  miss,  Tom  Neverout  has  posed  you. 

Miss.  Why,  Colonel,  every  dog  has  his  day  ; but  I believe  I shall 
never  see  a goose  again  without  thinking  of  Mr.  Neverout. 

La.  Smart.  Well  said,  miss  ; 'faith,  girl,  thou  hast  brought  thyself 
off  cleverly.  Tom,  what  say  you  to  that? 

Col.  Faith,  Tom  is  non-piussed  : he  looks  plaguily  down  in  the 
mouth. 

Miss.  Why,  my  lord,  you  see  he  is  the  provokingest  creature  in 
life  ; I believe  there  is  not  such  another  in  the  varsal  world. 

Lady  Answ.  O,  miss,  the  world's  a wide  place. 

Neverout.  Well,  miss,  I’ll  give  you  leave  to  call  me  anything,  if  you 
don't  call  me  spade. 

Ld.  Smart . Well,  but  after  all,  Tom,  can  you  tell  me  what's  Latin  for 
a goose  ? 

Neverout.  O,  my  lord,  I know  that : why  brandy  is  Latin  for  a 
goose,  and  tace  is  Latin  for  a candle. 

Miss.  Is  that  manners,  to  show  your  learning  before  ladies  ? Me- 
thinks  you  are  grown  very  brisk  of  a sudden  ; I think  the  man’s  glad 
he’s  alive.  . 

Sir  John.  The  devil  take  your  wit,  if  this  be  wit,  for  it  spoirs  com- 
pany : pray,  Mr.  Butler,  bring  me  a dram  after  my  goose  ; 'tis  very 
good  for  the  wholesomes. 

Ld.  Smart . Come,  bring  me  the  loaf ; I sometimes  love  to  cut  my  own 
bread. 

Miss.  I suppose,  my  lord,  you  lay  longest  a-bed  to-day. 

Ld.  Smart.  Miss,  if  I had  said  so,  ^should  have  told  a fib  ; I war- 
rant you  lay  abed  till  the  cows  came  home  ; but,  miss,  shall  I cut  you 
a little  crust  now  my  hand  is  in  ? 

Miss.  If  you  please,  my  lord,  a bit  of  undercrust. 

Neverout  [ whispering  miss]  I find  you  love  to  lie  under. 

Miss  [aloud,  pushing  him  from  her].  What  does  the  man  mean  ! Sir, 

I don't  understand  you  at  all. 

Neverout.  Come,  all  quarrels  laid  aside  : here,  miss,  may  you  live  a 
thousand  years.  [He  drinks  to  her. 

Miss.  Pray,  sir,  don’t  stint  me. 

Ld.  Smart.  Sir  John,  will  you  taste  my  October?  I think  it  is  very 
good  : but  I believe  not  equal  to  yours  in  Derbyshire. 

Sir  John.  My  lord,  I beg  your  pardon  : but  they  say,  the  devil  made 
askers. 

Ld.  Smart  [to  the  butler ].  Here,  bring  up  the  great  tankard  full  of 
October  for  Sir  John, 

Col.  [drinking  to  miss].  Miss,  your  health  ; may  you  live  all  the  days 
of  your  life. 

Lady  Answ. Well,  miss,  you’ll  certainly  be  soon  married  ; here’s  two 
bachelors*drinking  to  you  at  once. 

Ladv  Smart.  Indeed,  miss,  I believe  you  were  wrapt  in  your  mother’s 
smock,  you  are  so  well  beloved. 


POLITE  CONVERSATION. 


379 


Miss . Where’s  mv  knife?  sure  I han’t  eaten  it : O,  here  it  is. 

Sir  John.  No,  miss  ; but  your  maidenhead  hangs  in  your  light. 

Miss.  Pray,  Sir  John,  is  that  a Derbyshire  compliment?  Here  Mr. 
Neverout,  will  you  take  this  piece  of  rabbit  that  you  bid  me  carve  for 
you  ? 

Neverout.  I don’t  know. 

Miss.  Why,  take  it  or  let  it  alone. 

Neverout.  I will. 

Miss.  What  will  you  ? 

Neverout.  Why,  I’ll  take  it,  or  let  it  alone. 

Miss.  You  are  a provoking  creature. 

Sir  John  [ talking  with  a glass  of  wine  in  his  hand].  I remember  a 
farmer  in  our  country — 

Ld.  Smart  {interrupting  him].  Pray,  Sir  John,  did  you  ever  hear  of 
parson  Palmer  ? 

Sir  John.  No,  my  lord  ; what  of  him  ? 

Ld.  Smart.  Why,  he  used  to  preach  over  his  liquor. 

Sir  John.  I beg  your  lordship’s  pardon,  here’s  your  lordship’s  health; 
I’d  drink  it  up,  if  it  were  a mile  to  the  bottom. 

Lady  Smart.  Mr.  Neverout,  have  you  been  at  the  new  play? 

Neverout.  Yes,  madam,  I w^ent  the  first  night. 

Lady  Smart.  Well,  and  how  did  it  take? 

Neverout . Why,  madam,  the  poet  is  damned. 

Sir  John.  God  forgive  you  ! that’s  very  uncharitable  : you  ought  not 
to  judge  so  rashly  of  any  Christian. 

Neverout  {whispers  Lady  Smart].  Was  ever  such  a dunce  ! How 
well  he  knows  the  town  ! See  how  he  stares  like  a stuck  pig  ! Well,  but 
Sir  John,  are  you  acquainted  with  any  of  our  fine  ladies  yet  ? 

Sir  John.  No  ; damn  your  fireships,  I have  a wife  of  my  own. 

Lady  Smart.  Pray,  my  Lady  Answerall,  how  do  you  like  these  pre- 
served oranges  ? 

Lady  Answ . Indeed,  madam,  the  only  fault  I find  is,  that  they  are 
too  good. 

Lady  Smart . O madam,  I have  heard  ’em  say,  that  too  good  is 
stark  naught. 

Miss  drinking  part  of  a glass  of  wine, 

Neverout.  Pray,  let  me  drink  your  snuff. 

Miss.  No,  indeed,  you  shan’t  drink  after  me  ; for  you’ll  know  my 
thoughts. 

Neverout.  I know  them  already  ; you  are  thinking  of  a good  hus- 
band. Besides.  I can  tell  your  meaning  by  your  mumping. 

Lady  Smart.  Pray,  my  lord,  did  not  you  order  the  butler  to  bring  up 
a tankard  of  our  October  to  Sir  John  ? I believe  they  stay  Jo  brew  it. 

The  butler  brings  up  the  tankard  to  Sir  John. 

Sir  John . Won’t  your  ladyship  please  to  drink  first  ? 

Lady  Smart.  No,  Sir  John;  ’tis  in  a very  good  hand;  I’ll  pledge 
you. 

Col.  {to  Ld.  Smart].  My  Lord,  I love  October  as  well  as  Sir  John  j 
and  I hope  you  won’t  make  fish  of  one  and  flesh  of  another. 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


3$o 

Ld.  Smart . Colonel,  you’re  heartily  welcome.  Come,  Sir  John,  take 
it  by  word  of  mouth,  and  then  give  it  the  Colonel. 

Sir  John  drinks . 

Lady  Smart.  Well,  Sir  John,  how  do  you  like  it? 

Sir  John.  Not  as  well  as  my  own  in  Derbyshire  ; ’tis  plaguy  small. 

Lady  Smart.  I never  taste  malt  liquor  ; but  they  say  ’tis  well  hopped. 

Sir  John.  Hopped  ! why,  if  it  had  hopped  a little  further,  it  would 
have  hopped  into  the  river.  Oh,  my  lord,  my  ale  is  meat,  drink,  and 
cloth  ; it  will  make  a cat  speak,  and  a wise  man  dumb. 

Lady  Smart.  I was  told  ours  was  very  strong. 

Sir  John.  Ay,  madam,  strong  of  the  water  ; I believe  the  brewer 
forgot  the  malt,  or  the  river  was  too  near  him.  ’Faith,  it  is  mere  whip- 
belly-vengeance  ; he  that  drinks  most  has  the  worst  share. 

Col.  I believe,  Sir  John,  ale  is  as  plenty  as  water  at  your  house. 

Sir  John.  Why,  ’faith,  at  Christmas  we  have  many  comers  and  goers: 
and  they  must  not  be  sent  away  without  a cup  of  Christmas  ale,  for 
fear  they  should  p — s behind  the  door. 

Lady  Smart.  I hear,  Sir  John  has  the  nicest  garden  in  England; 
they  say,  ’tis  kept  so  clean,  that  you  can’t  find  a place  where  to  spit. 

Sir  John.  Oh,  madam  ; you  are  pleased  to  say  so. 

Lady  Smart.  But,  Sir  John,  your  ale  is  terrible  strong  and  heady  in 
Derbyshire,  and  will  soon  make  one  drunk  and  sick ; what  do  you 
then  ? 

Sir  John.  Why,  indeed,  it  is  apt  to  fox  one  ; but  our  way  is,  to 
take  a hair  of  the  same  dog  next  morning.  I take  a new-laid  egg  for 
breakfast : and  ’faith  one  should  drink  as  much  after  an  egg  as  after 
an  ox. 

Ld.  Smart.  Tom  Neverout,  will  you  taste  a glass  of  October? 

Neverout.  No,  ’faith,  my  lord  ; I like  your  wine,  and  I won’t  put  a 
churl  upon  a gentleman  ; your  honour’s  claret  is  good  enough  for  me. 

Lady  Smart.  What  ! is  this  pigeon  left  for  manners  ? Colonel,  shall 
I send  you  the  legs  and  rump  ? 

Col.  Madam,  I could  not  eat  a bit  more,  if  the  house  was  full. 

Ld.  Smart  [carving  a partridge ].  Well  : one  may  ride  to  Rumford 
upon  this  knife,  it  is  so  blunt. 

Lady  Answ.  My  lord,  I beg  your  pardon  ; but  they  say,  an  ill  work- 
man never  had  good  tools. 

Ld.  Smart.  Will  your  lordship  have  a wing  of  it? 

Ld.  Sparkish.  No,  my  lord  ; I love  the  wing  of  an  ox  a great  deal 
better. 

Ld.  Smart.  I’m  always  cold  after  eating. 

Col.  My  lord,  they  say,  that’s  a sign  of  long  life. 

Ld.  Smatt.  Ay  ; I believe  I shall  live  till  all  my  friends  are  weary  of 
me. 

Col.  Pray,  does  anybody  here  hate  cheese  ? I would  be  glad  of  a 
hit. 

Ld.  Smart.  An  odd  kind  of  fellow  dined  with  me  t’other  day  ; and 
when,  the  cheese  came  upon  the  table,  he  pretended  to  faint : so  some- 
body said,  “ Pray  take  away  the  cheese  “ No,”  said  I,  “pray,  take 
away  the  fool said  I well  ? 


POLITE  CONVERSATION. 


3S1 


Here  a loud  and  large  laugh, . 

Cot.  'Faith,  my  lord,  you  served  the  coxcomb  right  enough  : and 
therefore  I wish  we  had  a bit  of  your  lordship’s  Oxfordshire  cheese. 

Ld \ Smart.  Come,  hang  saving  ; bring  us  up  a halfp  orth  of  cheese. 

Lady  Answ . They  say,  cheese  digests  everything  but  itself. 

A Footman  brings  a great  whole  cheese . 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Ay ; this  would  look  handsome,  if  any  body  should 
come  in. 

Sir  John.  Well ; I'm  weily  brosten,  as  they  sayn  in  Lancashire. 

Ld.  Smart.  O ! Sir  John  ; I would  I had  something  to  brost  you 
withal. 

Lady  Smart.  Come,  they  say,  *tis  merry  in  the  hall  when  beards  wag 
all. 

Ld.  Smart.  Miss,  shall  I help  you  to  some  cheese,  or  will  you  carve 
for  yourself? 

Never  out.  I'll  hold  fifty  pounds,  miss  won't  cut  the  cheese. 

Miss.  Pray,  why  so,  Mr.  Neverout? 

Neverout.  O,  there  is  a reason,  and  you  know  it  well  enough. 

Miss.  I can't  for  my  life  understand  what  the  gentleman  means. 

Ld.  Smart.  Pray,  Tom,  change  the  discourse  ; in  troth  you  are  too 
bad. 

Col.  [whispers  Neverout ].  Smoke,  miss  ; 'faith,  you  have  made  her 
fret  like  gum  taffeta. 

Lady  Smart.  Well,  but,  miss  (hold  your  tongue,  Mr.  Neverout),  shall 
I cut  you  a piece  of  cheese  ? 

Miss.  No,  really,  madam  ; I have  dined  this  half  hour. 

Lady  Smart.  What ! quick  at  meat,  quick  at  work,  they  say* 

Sir  John  nods . 

Ld.  Smart.  What ! are  you  sleepy,  Sir  John  ? do  you  sleep  after 
dinner  ? 

Sir  John.  Yes,  'faith ; I sometimes  take  a nap  after  my  pipe  ; for 
when  the  belly  is  full,  the  bones  would  be  at  rest. 

Lady  Smart.  Come,  colonel ; help  yourself,  and  your  friends  will 
love  you  the  better.  [To  Lady  Answ.]  Madam,  your  ladyship  eats 
nothing. 

Lady  Answ.  Lord,  madam,  I have  fed  like  a farmer,  I shall  grow  as 
fat  as  a porpoise  ; I swear,  my  jaws  are  weary  of  chewing. 

Col.  1 have  a mind  to  eat  a piece  of  that  sturgeon,  but  fear  it  will 
make  me  sick. 

Neverout.  A rare  soldier  indeed  ! let  it  alone,  and  I warrant  it  won't 
hurt  you. 

CoL  Well,  it  would  vex  a dog  to  see  a pudding  creep. 

Sir  John  rises. 

Ld.  Smart.  Sir  John,  what  are  you  doing  ? 

Sir  John.  Swolks,  I must  be  going,  by’r  lady  ; I have  earnest  busi« 
ness  ; I must  do  as  the  beggars  do,  go  away  when  I have  got  enough. 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


3$3 

Ld . Smart . Well ; but  stay  till  this  bottle’s  out ; you  know,  the  man 
was  hanged  that  left  his  liquor  behind  him  ; and  besides,  a cup  in  the 
pate  is  a mile  in  the  gate  ; and  a spur  in  the  head  is  worth  two  in  the 
heel. 

'Sir  John,  Come,  then  ; one  brimmer  to  all  your  healths.  [The foot- 
man gives  him  a glass  half  full.]  Pray,  friend,  what  was  the  rest  of 
this  glass  made  for  ? an  inch  at  the  top.  friend,  is  worth  two  at  the 
bottom.  [ He  gets  a brimmer  and  drinks  it  off.]  Well,  there’s  no  deceit 
in  a brimmer,  and  there’s  no  false  Latin  in  this  ; your  wine  is  excellent 
good,  so  1 thank  you  for  the  next,  for  I am  sure  of  this  ; madam,  has 
your  ladyship  any  commands  in  Derbyshire  ? I must  go  fifteen  miles 
to-night. 

Lady  Smart . None,  Sir  John,  but  to  take  care  of  yourself;  and  my 
most  humble  service  to  your  lady  unknown. 

Sir  John . Well,  madam,  I can  but  love  and  thank  you. 

Lady  Smart.  Here,  bring  water  to  wash  ; though,  really,  you  have 
all  eaten  so  little  that  you  have  not  need  to  wash  your  mouths. 

Ld,  S?nart . But  prithee,  Sir  John,  stay  a while  longer. 

Sir  John . No,  my  Lord ; I am  to  smoke  a pipe  with  a friend  before 
I leave  the  town. 

Col.  Why,  Sir  John,  had  not  you  better  set  out  to-morrow*? 

Sir  John,  Colonel,  you  forget  to-morrow  is  Sunday. 

Col.  Now  I always  love  to  begin  a journey  on  Sundays,  because  I 
shall  have  the  prayers  of  the  church  to  preserve  all  that  travel  by  land 
or  by  water. 

Sir  John.  Well,  Colonel,  thou  art  a mad  fellow  to  make  a priest  of. 

Neverout.  Fie,  Sir  John,  do  you  take  tobacco  ? How  can  you  make 
a chimney  of  your  mouth  ? 

Sir  John  [to  Neverout].  What ! you  don’t  smoke,  I warrant  you,  but 
you  smock.  (Ladies,  I beg  your  pardon.)  Colonel,  do  you  never 
smoke  ? 

Col.  No,  Sir  John  ; but  I take  a pipe  sometimes. 

Sir  John.  I’faith,  one  of  your  finical  London  blades  dined  with  me 
last  year  in  Derbyshire  : so,  after  dinner,  I took  a pipe  ; so,  my 
gentleman  turned  away  his  head.  So,  said  I,  What,  sir,  do  you  never 
smoke?  so,  he  answered  as  you  do,  Colonel ; No,  but  I sometimes  take 
a pipe  : so  he  took  a pipe  in  his  hand,  and  fiddled  with  it  till  he  broke 
it.  So,  said  I,  pray,  sir,  can  you  make  a pipe  ? So  he  said,  no.  So, 
said  I,  Why  then,  sir,  if  you  can’t  make  a pipe,  you  should  not  break  a 
pipe  ; so  we  all  laughed. 

Ld.  Smart.  Well,  but  Sir  John,  they  say,  that  the  corruption  of  pipes 
is  the  generation  of  stoppers. 

Sir  John.  Colonel,  I hear  you  go  sometimes  to  Derbyshire ; I wish 
you  would  come  and  foul  a plate  with  me. 

Col.  I hope  you  will  give  me  a soldier’s  bottle. 

Sir  John.  Come  and  try.  Mr.  Neverout,  you  are  a town  wit;  can 
you  tell  me  what  kind  of  herb  is  tobacco  ? 

Neverout.  Why,  an  Indian  herb,  Sir  John. 

Sir  John.  No,  ’tis  a pot-herb;  and  so  here's  t’ye  in  a pot  of  my 
lord’s  October. 


POLITE  CONVERSATION.  383 

Lady  Smart.  I hear,  Sir  John,  since  you  are  married,  you  have  for- 
swore the  town. 

Sir  John.  No,  madam,  I never  forswore  anything  but  the  building 
of  churches. 

Lady  Smart.  Well,  but  Sir  John,  when  may  we  hope  to  see  you 
again  in  London? 

Sir  John.  Why,  madam,  not  till  the  ducks  have  eat  up  the  dirt,  as 
the  children  say. 

Never  out.  Come,  Sir  John,  I foresee  it  will  rain  terribly. 

Lady  Smart.  Come,  Sir  John,  do  nothing  rashly  ; let  us  drink  first. 

Ld.  Spai'kish.  I know  Sir  John  will  go,  though  he  was  sure  it  would 
rain  cats  and  dogs  ; but  pray  stay,  Sir  John  : you’ll  be  time  enough  to 
go  to  bed  by  candle-light. 

Ld.  Smart.  Why,  Sir  John,  if  you  must  needs  go,  while  you  stay 
make  use  of  your  time.  Here’s  my  service  to  you,  a health  to  our 
friends  in  Derbyshire.  Come,  sit  down  : let  us  put  off  the  evil  hour  as 
long  as  we  can. 

Sir  John.  ’Faith,  I could  not  drink  a drop  more  if  the  house  was  full. 

Col.  Why,  Sir  John,  you  used  to  love  a glass  of  good  wine  in  former 
times. 

Sir  John.  Why,  so  I do  still,  Colonel;  but  a man  may  love  his  house 
very  well  without  riding  on  the  ridge  : besides,  I must  be  with  my  wife 
on  Tuesday,  or  there  will  be  the  devil  and  all  to  pay. 

Col.  Well,  if  you  go  to-day,  I wish  you  may  be  wet  to  the  skin. 

Sir  John.  Ay  ; but  they  say  the  prayers  of  the  wicked  won’t  prevail. 

Sir  John  takes  leave  and  goes  away. 

Ld.  Smart , Well,  miss,  how  do  you  like  Sir  John  ? 

Miss.  Why,  I think  he’s  a little  upon  the  silly,  or  so  : .1  believe  he 
has  not  all  the  wit  in  the  world  : but  I don’t  pretend  to  be  a judge. 

Neverout.  ’Faith,  I believe,  he  was  bred  at  Hog’s  Norton,  where  the 
pigs  play  upon  the  organs. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Why,  Tom,  I thought  you  and  he  were  hand  and 
glove. 

Neverout.  ’Faith,  he  shall  have  a clean  threshold  forme;  I never 
darkened  his  door  in  my  life,  neither  in  town  nor  country  ; but  he’s  a 
queer  old  duke,  by  my  conscience  ; and  yet  after  all  I take  him  to  be 
more  knave  than  fool. 

Lady  Smart.  Well,  come,  a man’s  a man,  if  he  has  but  a nose  on  his 
face. 

Col.  I was  once  with  him  and  some  other  company  over  a bottle  ; 
and,  egad,  he  fell  asleep,  and  snored  so  hard  that  we  thought  he  was 
driving  his  hogs  to  market. 

Neverout.  Why,  what ! you  can  have  no  more  of  a cat  than  her 
skin  ; you  can’t  make  a silk  purse  out  of  a sow’s  ear. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Well,  since  he’s  gone,  the  devil  go  with  him  and 
sixpence  ; and  there's  money  and  company  too. 

Neverout.  ’Faith  he’s  a true  country  put.  Pray,  miss,  let  me  ask 
you  . question. 

Miss.  Well  , but  don’t  ask  questions  with  a dirty  face : I warrant 
what  you  have  to  say  will  keep  cold. 


3$4  LEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS . 

6V.  Come,  my  Lord,  against  you  are  disposed  : here's  to  all  that 
love  and  honour  you. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Ay,  that  was  always  Dick  Nimble’s  health.  I’m  sure 
you  know  he’s  dead. 

Col . Dead ! well,  my  Lord,  you  love  to  be  a messenger  of  ill  news  : 
I’m  heartily  sorry  ; but,  my  Lord,  we  must  all  die. 

Neverout.  I knew  him  very  well  ; but  pray,  how  came  he  to  die  ? 

Miss . There’s  a question  ! you  talk  like  a poticary  ; why,  because  he 
could  live  no  longer. 

Neverout . Well  ; rest  his  soul,  we  must  live  by  the  living,  and  not 
by  the  dead. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  You  know,  his  house  was  burnt  down  to  the  ground. 

Col.  Yes ; it  was  in  the  news.  Why,  fire  and  water  are  good  ser- 
vants, but  they  are  very  bad  masters. 

Ld.  Smart.  Here,  take  away,  and  set  down  a bottle  of  burgundy. 
Ladies,  you’ll  stay  and  drink  a glass  of  wine  before  you  go  to  your  tea  ? 

All  taken  away,  and  the  wine  set  down , 

Miss  gives  Neverout  a smart  pinch. 

Neverout.  Lord,  miss,  what  d’ye  mean  ? d’ye  think  I have  no  feel- 
ing ? 

Miss.  I’m  forced  to  pinch,  for  the  times  are  hard. 

Never  out  [giving  Miss  a pinch].  Take  that,  miss  ; what's  sauce  for  a 
goose  is  sauce  for  a gander. 

Miss  [screaming].  Well,  Mr.  Neverout,  that  shall  neither  go  to 
Heaven  nor  Hell  with  you. 

Neverout  [takes  Miss  by  the  hand].  Come,  miss,  let  us  lay  all  quarrels 
aside,  and  be  friends. 

Miss.  Don’t  be  so  teasing  ; you  plague  a body  so  ! can’t  you  keep 
your  filthy  hands  to  yourself? 

Neverout.  Pray,  miss,  where  did  you  get  that  pick-tooth  case  ? 

Miss . I came  honestly  by  it. 

Neverout.  I’m  sure  it  was  mine,  for  I lost  just  such  a one ; nay,  I 
don’t  tell  you  a lie. 

Miss.  No  ; if  you  lie  it  is  much. 

Neverout.  Well,  I’m  sure  ’tis  mine. 

Miss . What ! you  think  everything  is  yours,  but  a little  the  king  has. 

Neverout . Colonel,  you  have  seen  my  fine  pick-tooth  case ; don’t 
you  think  this  is  the  very  same  ? 

Col.  Indeed,  miss,  it  is  very  like  it. 

Miss.  Ay,  what  he  says,  you’ll  swear. 

Neverout.  Well,  but  I’ll  prove  it  to  be  mine. 

Miss.  Ay,  do  if  you  can. 

Neverout.  W’hy,  what’s  yours  is  mine,  and  what’s  mine  is  my  own. 

Miss . Well,  run  on  till  you’re  weary  ; nobody  holds  you. 

Neverout  gapes. 

Col.  What,  Mr.  Neverout,  do  you  gape  for  preferment  ? 

Neverout.  'Faith,  I may  gape  long  enough  before  it  falls  into  my 
mouth. 

Lady  Smart.  Mr.  Neverout,  my  lord  and  I intend  to  beat  up  your 
quarters  one  of  these  days  : I hear  you  live  high. 


POLITE  CONVERSATION. 


3*J 


Neve0/ out.  Yes,  ’faith,  madam,  I live  high,  and  lodge  in  a garret, 

CoL  But,  miss,  I forgot  to  tell  you  that  Mr.  Neverout  got  the 
devilishest  fall  in  the  Park  to-day. 

Miss.  I hope  he  did  not  hurt  the  ground  : but  how  was  it,  Mr. 
Neverout  ? I wish  I had  been  there  to  laugh. 

Neverout.  Why,  madam,  it  was  a place  where  a cuckold  had  been 
buried,  and  one  of  his  horns  sticking  out,  I happened  to  stumble  against 
it ; that  w as  all. 

Lady  Smart.  Ladies,  let  us  leave  the  gentlemen  to  themselves  ; J 
think  it  is  time  to  go  to  our  tea. 

Lady  Answ.  and  Miss.  My  lords  and  gentlemen,  your  most  humble 
servant. 

Ld.  Smart.  Well,  ladies,  we’ll  wait  on  you  an  hour  hence. 


Ld.  Smart.  Come,  John,  bring  us  a fresh  bottle.  * 

Cot.  Ay,  my  lord ; and  pray  let  him  carry  off  the  dead  men,  as  we 
Say  in  the  army. 


Ld.  Sparkish.  Mr.  Neverout,  pray  is  not  that  bottle  full  ? 

Neverout.  Yes,  my  Lord  ; full  of  emptiness. 

Ld.  Smart.  And,  d’ye  hear,  John,  bring  clean  glasses. 

Col.  I’ll  keep  mine ; for  I think  wine  is  the  best  liquor  to  wash 


ELL,  ladies  ; now  let  us  have  a cup  of  discourse  to  our- 


Lady  Answ.  What  do  think  of  your  friend,  Sir  John  Spendall  ? 

Lady  Smart.  Why,  madam,  ’tis  happy  for  him  that  his  father  was 
born  before  him. 

Miss : They  say  he  makes  a very  ill  husband  to  my  lady. 

Lady  Answ.  But  he  must  be  allowed  to  be  the  fondest  father  in  the 
world. 

Lady  Smart.  Ay,  madam,  that’s  true  ; for  they  say  the  devil  is  kind 
to  his  own. 

Miss.  I am  told,  my  lady  manages  him  to  admiration. 

Lady  Smart.  That  I believe,  for  she’s  as  cunning  as  a dead  pig,  but: 
not  half  so  honest. 

Lady  Answ.  They  say,  she’s  quite  a stranger  to  all  his  gallantries. 

Laay  Smart . Not  at  all ; but  you  know  there’s  none  so  blind  as  they 

won't  see. 


The  Gentlemen  alone. 


[. Meaning  the  empty  bottles . 


glasses  in* 


DIALOGUE  III. 

The  Ladies  at  their  tea. 
Lady  Smart. 


selves. 


386  DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 

Miss . Oh,  madam,  I am  told  she  watches  him  as  a cat  would  watch 
a mouse. 

Lady  Atisw.  Well,  if  she  ben’t  foully  belied,  she  pays  him  in  his  own 
coin. 

Lady  Smart.  Madam,  I fancy  I know  your  thoughts,  as  well  as  if 
I were  within  you. 

Lady  Answ.  Madam,  I was  t’other  day  in  company  with  Mrs. 
Clatter ; I find  she  gives  herself  airs  of  being  acquainted  with  your 
ladyship. 

Miss.  Oh  ! the  hideous  creature  ! did  you  observe  her  nails  ? they 
were  long  enough  to  scratch  her  grannum  out  of  her  grave 

Lady  Smart.  Well,  she  and  Tom  Gosling  were  banging  compli- 
ments backward  and  forward  : it  looked  like  two  asses  scrubbing  one 
another. 

Miss.  Ay,  claw  me,  and  I’ll  claw  you  : but  pray,  madam,  who  were 
the  company  ? 

Lady  Smart.  Why,  there  was  all  the  world,  and  his  wife  ; there  was 
Mrs.  Clatter,  Lady  Singular,  the  Countess  of  Talkham  (I  should 
have  named  her  first),  Tom  Gosling,  and  some  others,  whom  I have 
forgot. 

Lady  Answ.  I think  the  countess  is  very  sickly. 

liidy  S?nart.  Yes,  madam  ; she’ll  never  scratch  a grey  head,  I pro- 
mise her. 

Miss.  And,  pray,  what  was  your  conversation  ? 

Lady  Smart . Why,  Mrs.  Clatter  had  all  the  talk  to  herself,  and  was 
perpetually  complaining  of  her  misfortunes. 

Lady  Answ.  She  brought  her  husband  ten  thousand  pounds  : she 
has  a town-house  and  country-house  : would  the  woman  have  her  a — 
hung  with  points  ? 

Lady  Smart.  She  would  fain  be  at  the  top  of  the  house  before  the 
stairs  are  built. 

Miss.  Well,  comparisons  are  odious  ; but  she’s  as  like  her  husband 
as  if  she  were  spit  out  of  his  mouth  ; as  like  as  one  egg  is  to  another. 
Pray  how  was  she  drest  ? 

l.ady  Smart.  Why,  she  was  as  fine  as  fi’pence ; but,  truly,  I thought 
there  was  more  cost  than  worship. 

Lady  Answ.  I don’t  know  her  husband  : pray,  what  is  he? 

Lady  Smart.  Why,  he’s  a counsellor  of  the  law  ; you  must  know  he 
came  to  us  as  drunk  as  David’s  sow. 

Miss.  What  kind  of  creature  is  he  ? 

Lady  Smart.  You  must  know  the  man  and  his  wife  are  coupled  like 
rabbits,  a fat  and  a lean  ; he’s  as  fat  as  a porpus,  and  she’s  one  of 
Pharaoh’s  lean  kine : the  ladies  and  Tom  Gosling  were  proposing  a 
party  at  quadrille,  but  he  refused  to  make  one.  Damn  your  cards, 
said  he,  they  are  the  devil’s  books. 

Lady  Answ.  A dull,  unmannerly  brute  ! well,  God  send  him  more 
wit,  and  me  more  money. 

Miss.  Lord  ! madam,  I would  not'  keep  such  company  for  the 
world. 

Lady  Smart.  Oh,  miss,  ’tis  nothing  when  you  are  used  to  it : besides, 
you  know,  for  want  of  company,  welcome  trumpery. 


POLITE  CONVERSATION. 


387 


Miss,  Did  your  ladyship  play  ? 

Lady  Smart.  Yes,  and  won;  so  I came  off  with  fiddler's  fare,  meat, 
drink,  and  money. 

Lady  Answ.  Ay  ; what  says  Pluck  ? 

Miss . Well,  my  elbow  itches  ; I shall  change  bed-fellows. 

Lady  Smart.  And  my  right  hand  itches  ; I shall  receive  money. 

Lady  Answ.  And  my  right  eye  itches  ; I shall  cry. 

Lady  Smart.  Miss,  I hear  your  friend  Mistress  Giddy  has  discarded 
Dick  Shuttle  : pray,  has  she  got  another  lover  l 

Miss.  I hear  of  none. 

Lady  Smart.  Why,  the  fellow’s  rich,  and  I think  she  was  a fool  to 
throw  out  her  dirty  water  before  she  got  clean. 

Lady  Answ.  Miss,  that’s  a very  handsome  gown  of  yours,  and 
finely  made  ; very  genteel. 

Miss.  I am  glad  your  ladyship  likes  it. 

Lady  Answ.  Your  lover  will  be  in  raptures  ; it  becomes  you  admir- 
ably. 

Miss.  Ay  ; I assure  you  I won’t  take  it  as  I have  done  ; if  this  won’t 
fetch  him,  the  devil  fetch  him,  say  I. 

Lady  Stuart  [to  Lady  Answ.]  Pray,  madam,  when  did  you  see  Sir 
Peter  Muckworm  ? 

Lady  Answ.  Not  this  fortnight : I hear  he’s  laid  up  with  the  gout. 

Lady  Smart.  What  does  he  do  for  it  ? 

Lady  Answ.  I hear  he’s  weary  of  doctoring  it,  and  now  makes  use 
of  nothing  but  patience  and  flannel. 

Miss.  Pray,  how  does  he  and  my  lady  agree  ? 

Lady  Answ.  You  know  he  loves  her  as  the  devil  loves  holy  water. 

Miss.  They  say,  she  plays  deep  with  sharpers,  that  cheat  her  of  he 
money. 

Lady  Answ.  Upon  my  word,  they  must  rise  early  that  would  cheat 
her  of  her  money  ; sharp’s  the  word  with  her  ; diamonds  cut  dia- 
monds. 

Miss.  Well,  but  I was  assured  from  a good  hand,  that  she  lost  at 
one  sitting  to  the  tune  of  a hundred  guineas  ; make  money  of  that  ! 

Lady  Smart.  Well,  but  do  you  hear  that  Mrs.  Plump  is  brougnt  to 
bed  at  last  ? 

Miss.  And  pray,  what  has  God  sent  her  ? 

Lady  Smart.  Why,  guess  if  you  can. 

Miss . A boy,  I suppose. 

Lady  Smart.  No,  you  are  out ; guess  again. 

Miss.  A girl,  then. 

Lady  Smart.  You  have  hit  it ; I believe  you  are  a witch. 

Miss.  O madam,  the  gentlemen  say,  all  fine  ladies  are  witches  ; but 
I pretend  to  no  such  thing. 

Lady  Answ.  Well,  she  had  good  luck  to  draw  Tom  Plump  into  wed- 
lock ; she  ris’  with  her  a — upwards. 

Miss.  Fie,  madam  ; what  do  you  mean  ? 

Lady  Stuart.  O miss,’tis  nothing  what  we  say  among  ourselves. 

Miss . Ay,  madam  ; but  they  say,  hedges  have  eyes,  and  walls  have 
ears. 


25 — 2 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


3SS 

Lady  Answ . Well,  miss,  I can’t  help  it ; you  know  Pm  old  Telltrutli  j 

I love  to  call  a spade  a spade. 

Lady  Smart  \_mistakes  the  tea-tongs  for  the  spoon.']  What ! I think 
my  wits  are  a wool-gathering  to-day. 

Miss.  Why,  madam,  there  was  but  a right  and  a wrong. 

Lady  Smart.  Miss,  I hear  that  you  and  Lady  Coupler  are  as  great  as 
cup  and  can. 

Lady  Answ.  Ay,  miss,  as  great  as  the  devil  and  the  Earl  of  Kent. 

Lady  Smart.  Nay,  I am  told  you  meet  together  with  as  much  love 
as  there  is  between  the  old  cow  and  the  haystack. 

Miss.  I own  I love  her  very  well ; but  there’s  difference  between 
staring  and  stark  mad. 

Lady  Smart.  They  say,  she  begins  to  grow  fat. 

Miss.  Fat  ! ay,  fat  as  a hen  in  the  forehead. 

Lady  Smart.  Indeed,  Lady  Answerall  (pray  forgive  me),  I think  your 
ladyship  looks  thinner  than  when  I saw  you  last. 

Miss.  Indeed,  madam,  I think  not ; but  your  ladyship  is  one  of  Job’s 
comforters. 

Lady  Answ.  Well,  no  matter  how  I look  ; I am  bought  and  sold  ; but 
really,  miss,  you  are  so  very  obliging,  that  I wish  I were  a handsome 
young  lord  for  your  sake. 

Miss.  O,  madam,  your  love’s  a million. 

Lady  Smart  [to  Lady  Answ.]  Madam,  will  your  ladyship  let  me  wait 
on  you  to  the  play  to-morrow  ? 

Lady  Answ.  Madam,  it  becomes  me  to  wait  on  your  ladyship. 

Miss.  What,  then,  I’m  turned  out  for  a wrangler? 


The  gentlemen  come  in  to  the  ladies  to  drink  tea . 

Miss.  Mr.  Neverout,  we  wanted  you  sadly ; you  are  always  out  of 
the  way  when  you  should  be  hanged. 

Neverout.  You  wanted  me  ! pray,  miss,  how  do  you  look  when  you 
lie  ? 

Miss.  Better  than  you  when  you  cry.  Manners  indeed  ! I find  you 
mend  like  sour  ale  in  summer. 

Neverout.  I beg  your  pardon,  miss ; I only  meant,  when  you  lie 
alone. 

Miss.  That’s  well  turned;  one  turn  more  would  have  turned  you 
down  stairs. 

Neverout.  Come,  miss,  be  kind  for  once,  and  order  me  a dish  of 
coffee. 

Miss.  Pray,  go  yourself ; let  us  wear  out  the  oldest ; besides,  I can’t 
go,  for  I have  a bone  in  my  leg. 

Col.  They  say,  a woman  need  but  look  on  her  apron-string  to  find  an 
excuse.* 

Neverout.  Why,  miss,  you  are  grown  so  peevish,  a dog  would  not  live 
with  you. 

Miss.  Mr.  Neverout,  I beg  your  diversion,  no  offence,  I hope  ; but 
truly  in  a little  time  you  intend  to  make  the  colonel  as  bad  as  yourself  ; 
and  that’s  as  bad  as  can  be. 

Neverout.  My  lord,  don’t  you  think  miss  improves  wonderfully  of 


* Vide  infra,  p.  400,  for  the  origin  of  this. — Ed. 


POLITE  CONVERSATION.  389 

late?  why,  miss,  if  I spoil  the  colonel,  I hope  you  will  use  him  as  you 
do  me  ; for  you  know,  love  me,  love  my  dog. 

Col.  How's  that,  Tom?  Say  that  again  : why,  if  I am  a dog,  shake 
hands,  brother. 

Here  a great , loud \ long  laugh. 

Ld.  Smart.  But  pray,  gentlemen,  why  always  so  severe  upon  poor 
miss  ? on  my  conscience,  Colonel  and  Tom  Neverout,  one  of  you  two 
are  both  knaves. 

Col.  My  Lady  Answerall,  I intend  to  do  myself  the  honour  of  dining 
with  your  ladyship  to-morrow. 

Lady  Answ.  Ay,  colonel,  do  if  you  can. 

Miss.  I'm  sure  you’ll  be  glad  to  be  welcome. 

Col.  Miss,  I thank  you  ; and  to  reward  you,  I’ll  come  and  drink  tea 
with  you  in  the  morning. 

Miss.  Colonel,  there’s  two  words  to  that  bargain. 

Col.  [to  Lady  Smart.]  Your  ladyship  has  a very  fine  watch ; well 
may  you  wear  it. 

Lady  Smart.  It  is  none  of  mine,  colonel. 

Col.  Pray,  whose  is  it  then  ? 

Lady  Smart.  Why,  ’tis  my  lord’s  ; for  they  say  a married  woman 
has  nothing  of  her  own,  but  her  wedding-ring  and  her  hair-lace  ; but  if 
women  had  been  the  law-makers  it  would  have  been  better. 

Col.  This  watch  seems  to  be  quite  new. 

Lady  Smart.  No,  sir,  it  has  been  twenty  years  in  my  lord’s  family  ; 
but  Quare  put  a new  case  and  dial-plate  to  it. 

Neverout.  Why,  that’s  for  all  the  world  like  the  man  who  swore  he 
kept  the  same  knife  forty  years,  only  he  sometimes  changed  the  haft, 
and  sometimes  the  blade. 

Ld.  Smart.  Well,  Tom,  to  give  the  devil  his  due,  thou  art  a right 
woman’s  man. 

Col.  Odd  so  ! I have  broke  the  hinge  of  my  snuff-box  ; Pm  undone, 
beside  the  loss. 

Miss.  Alack-a-day,  colonel ! I vow  I had  rather  have  found  forty- 
shillings. 

Neverout.  Why,  colonel,  all  that  I can  say  to  comfort  you  is,  that 
you  must  mend  it  with  a new  one. 

Miss  laughs. 

Col.  What,  miss ! you  can’t  laugh  but  you  must  show  your  teeth. 

. Miss.  I’m  sure  you  show  your  teeth  when  you  can’t  bite  ; well,  thus 
it  must  be  if  we  sell  ale. 

Neverout.  Miss,  you  smell  very  sweet ; I hope  you  don’t  carry  per- 
fumes. 

Miss.  Perfumes  ! No,  sir ; I’d  have  you  to  know,  it  is  nothing  but 
the  grain  of  my  skin. 

Col.  Tom,  you  have  a good  nose  to  make  a poor  man’s  sow. 

Ld  Sparkish.  So,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  methinks  you  are  very  witty 
upon  one  another ; come  box  it  about  ; ’twill  come  to  my  father  at 
last. 


39* 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WOE  ITS. 


Col.  Why,  my  lord,  you  see  miss  has  no  mercy  ; I wish  she  were 
married  ; but  I doubt  the  gray  mare  would  prove  the  better  horse. 

Miss.  Well,  God  forgive  you  for  that  wish. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  Never  fear  him,  miss. 

Miss.  What,  my  lord,  do  you  think  I was  born  in  a wood  to  be  afraid 
of  an  owl  ? 

Ld.  Smart.  What  have  you  to  say  to  that.  Colonel  ? 

A 7 ever  out.  Oh,  my  lord,  my  friend  the  colonel  scorns  to  set  his  wit 
against  a child. 

Miss.  Scornful  dogs  will  eat  dirty  puddings. 

Col.  Well,  miss,  they  say  a woman's  tongue  is  the  last  thing  about 
aer  that  dies  ; therefore  let's  kiss  and  be  friends. 

Miss.  Hands  off  ! that’s  meat  for  your  master. 

Ld.  Sparkish.  'Faith,  colonel,  you  are  for  ale  and  cakes  : but  after 
all,  miss,  you  are  too  severe  ; you  would  not  meddle  with  your  match. 

Miss.  All  they  can  say  goes  in  at  one  ear  and  out  at  t’other  for  me, 

I can  assure  you ; only  I wish  they  would  be  quiet,  and  let  me  drink 
my  tea. 

Neverout.  What ! I warrant  you  think  all  is  lost  that  goes  beside 
your  own  mouth. 

Miss . Pray,  Mr.  Neverout,  hold  your  tongue  for  once,  if  it  be  pos- 
sible ; one  would  think  you  were  a woman  in  man’s  clothes  by  your  - 
prating. 

Neverout.  No,  miss  ; it  is  not  handsome  to  see  one  hold  one's 
tongue  ; besides  I should  slobber  my  fingers. 

Col.  Miss,  did  you  never  hear  that- three  women  and  a goose  are  j 
enough  to  make  a market  ? 

Miss.  I'm  sure,  if  Mr.  Neverout  or  you  were  among  them,  it  would 
make  a fair. 

Footman  comes  in. 

Lady  Smart  Here,  take  away  the  tea-table,  and  bring  up  candles. 

Lady  Answ.  O madam,  no  candles  yet,  I beseech  you  ; don't  let  us 
burn  daylight. 

Neverout . I dare  swear,  miss  for  her  part  will  never  burn  daylight, 
if  she  can  help  it. 

Miss.  Lord,  Mr.  Neverout,  one  can't  hear  one’s  own  ears  for  you. 

Lady  Smart.  Indeed,  madam,  it  is  blmdman's  holiday  ; we  shall  , 
soon  be  all  of  a colour, 

Neverout.  Why  then,  miss,  we  may  kiss  where  we  like  best. 

Miss.  Fogh  ! these  men  talk  of  nothing  but  kissing.  [ She  spits . 

Neverout.  What,  miss,  does  it  make  your  mouth  water? 

Lady  Smart.  It  is  as  good  be  in  the  dark  as  without  light ; therefore, 
pray  bring  in  candles  ; they  say  women  and  linen  show  oestby  candle- 
light ; come,  gentlemen,  are  you  for  a party  at  quadrille  i 

Col.  I'll  make  one  with  you  three  ladies. 

I.ady  Answ.  I'll  sit  down  and  be  a stander  by. 

Lady  Smart,  [to  Lady  Answ.]  Madam,  does  your  ladyship  never 
play  ? 

Col.  Yes,  I suppose  her  ladyship  plays  sometimes  for  an  egg  at 
Eastefe 


POLITE  CONVERSATION. 


39i 


Neverout.  Ay,  and  a kiss  at  Christmas. 

Lady  Answ.  Come,  Mr.  Neverout,  hold  your  tongue,  and  mind 
your  knitting. 

Neverout . With  all  my  heart  ; kiss  my  wife  and  welcome. 

The  Colonel,  Mr . Neverout,  Lady  Smart , and  Miss , go  to  quadrille , 
and  sit  there  till  three  in  the  morning. 

They  rise  from  cards . 

Smart . Well,  miss,  you’ll  have  a sad  husband,  you  have  such 
good  luck  at  cards. 

Neverout.  Indeed,  miss,  you  dealt  me  sad  cards  ; if  you  deal  so  ill 
by  your  friends,  what  will  you  do  with  your  enemies  ? 

Lady  Answ . I’m  sure  ’tis  time  for  honest  folks  to  be  abed. 

Miss.  Indeed  my  eyes  draw  straws. 

She’s  ahnost  asleep . 

Neverout.  Why,  miss,  if  you  fall  asleep,  somebody  may  get  a pair  saf 
gloves. 

Col.  I’m  going  to  the  land  of  Nod. 

Neverout.  Faith,  I’m  for  Bedfordshire. 

Lady  Smart.  I’m  sure  I shall  sleep  without  rocking 

Neverout.  Miss,  I hope  you’ll  dream  of  your  sweetheart. 

Miss.  Oh,  no  doubt  of  it ; I believe  I shan’t  be  able  to  sleep  for 
dreaming  of  him. 

Col.  [to  Miss.]  Madam,  shall  I have  the  honour  to  escort  you  ? 

Miss.  No,  colonel,  I thank  you  ; my  mamma  has  sent  her  chair  and 
footmen.  Well,  my  lady  Smart,  I’ll  give  you  revenge  whenever  you 
please. 

Footman  comes  in. 

Footman.  Madam,  the  chairs  are  waiting. 

They  all  take  their  chairs  and  go  off* 


393 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


RESOLUTIONS 

WHEN  I COME  TO  BE  OLD. 

(1699.) 

NOT  to  marry  a young  woman. 

Not  to  keep  young  company,  unless  they  desire  it 
Not  to  be  peevish,  or  morose,  or  suspicious. 

Not  to  scorn  present  ways,  or  wits,  or  fashions,  or  men,  or  war,  &C. 

Not  to  be  fond  of  children. 

Not  to  tell  the  same  story  over  and  over  to  the  same  people. 

Not  to  be  covetous. 

Not  to  neglect  decency  or  cleanliness,  for  fear  of  tailing  into  nasti- 
ness. 

Not  to  be  over  severe  with  young  people,  but  give  allowance  for  their 
youthful  follies  and  weaknesses. 

Not  to  be  influenced  by,  or  give  ear  to,  knavish  tattling  servants,  or 
others. 

Not  to  be  too  free  of  advice,  nor  trouble  any  but  those  who  desire  it. 
To  desire  some  good  friends  to  inform  me  which  of  these  resolutions  < 
I break  or  neglect,  and  wherein  ; and  reform  accordingly. 

Not  to  talk  much,  nor  of  myself. 

Not  to  boast  of  my  former  beauty,  or  strength,  or  favour  with 

ladies,  &c. 

Not  to  hearken  to  flatteries,  nor  conceive  I can  be  beloved  by  a young 
woman  ; et  eos  qui  hcereditatem  captant , odisse  ac  v it  are. 

Not  to  be  positive  or  opiniative. 

Not  to  set  up  for  observing  all  these  rules,  for  fear  I should  observe 
none. 

1 

THOUGHTS  ON  VARIOUS  SUBJECTS 

MORAL  AND  DIVERTING. 

WE  have  just  enough  religion  to  make  us  hate,  but  not  enough  to 
make  us  love  one  another. 

Reflect  on  things  past,  as  wars,  negotiations,  factions,  &c.,  we  enter 
so  little  into  those  interests,  that  we  wonder  how  men  could  possibly  be 
so  busy  and  concerned,  for  things  so  transitory  ; look  on  the  present 
times,  we  find  the  same  humour,  yet  wonder  not  at  all. 

A wise  man  endeavours,  by  considering  all  circumstances,  to  make  j 
conjectures,  and  form  conclusions  , but  the  smallest  accident  inter- 
vening (and  in  the  course  of  affairs  it  is  impossible  to  foresee  all)  does 
often  produce  such  turns  and  changes,  that  at  last  he  is  just  as  much  in 
doubt  of  events,  as  the  most  ignorant  and  unexperienced  person. 


THOUGHTS  ON  VARIOUS  SUBJECTS.  393 

fW0Siti^ntS..S  '5  a,?ood  quality  for  Preachers  and  orators,  because  he 
that  would  obtrude  his  thoughts  and  reasons  upon  a multitude,  will  con 
vince  others  the  more,  as  he  appears  convinced  himself 

How  is  it  possible  to  expect  that  mankind  will  take  advice,  when  they 
will  not  so  much  as  take  warning  ? } 

I forget  whether  advice  be  among  the  lost  things,  which  Ariosto 
there3^  l°  ^ f°Und  *"  the  m°°n  ’ that’  and  time>  ouSht  t0  have  been 

turnTTfha±LiS,wen?^ t0  but  *?“«’  Which  ?ives  us  the  same  train  and 
heads  before8^  th  e der  people  have  tried  in  vain  t0  Put  into  our 

we  desire  or  solicit  any  thing,  our  minds  run  wholly  on  the 
S$£ ?heCbS“  “CeS  °f  ,t;  When  “ ls  obl*i”d- 

a f!asus'h0use’  the  workmen  often  fling  in  a small  quantity  of  fresh 
seerniTn  1Cn  !?eifS  t0  dls,turb.the  fire,  but  very  much  enlivens  it.  This 
no  ”anguShUQe  a§eiU  C St,rnng  of  the  Passions>  that  the  mind  may 

*f5I0n  seems  t0  hav5  frown  an  infant  with  age,  and  requires  mira- 
cles  to  nurse  it,  as  it  had  in  its  infancy. 

crnor11.  dts.  °.f  Pleasure  are  balanced  by  an  equal  degree  of  pain  or  Ian- 
g Thl  1 ‘ 1 ke  Spe?dlng  this  vear  Part  of  the  next  year’s  revenue. 

The  latter  part  of  a wise  man’s  life  is  taken  up  in  curing  the  follies 
prejudices,  and  false  opinions  he  had  contracted  in  the  former. 

teritvUil A-Writer  klj0w.  ho7, t0  behave  himself  with  relation  to  pos- 
fennw’  n nrl  consider  m old  books  what  he  finds  that  he  is  glad  to 
know,  and  what  omissions  he  most  laments.  B 

hn^ateVeir  the  Poets  Pretend,  it  is  plain  they  give  immortality  to  none 

AchmesmSor  lSnUVS  £nd  Virgil-We  «£*nce  and  adLire  not 

Achilles  or  ^Eneas.  With  historians  it  is  quite  the  contrary  • our 

£ aCti°nS’  PerS°nS>  and  6VentS  We  read’ and 

are  manv  afcTdem? adYanta^s  °f  "he,  are  in  a state  where  there 
them  7 CCldents  t0  dis°rder  and  discompose,  but  few  to  please 

It  is  unwise  to  punish  cowards  with  ignominy;  for  if  they  had  re 

Dunlshmenf  'h**  W°Ulf  have  been  cowards : death  is  their  proper 
punishment,  because  they  fear  it  most.  H ^ 

_ slke  greatest  inventions  were  produced  in  the  times  of  ignorance  • 

nation, “Is6  the  Germans.35’  gUnp°wder’ and  Printing  5 and  by  the  dullest’ 

mB°"e  argument  to  prove  that  the  common  relations  of  <diosts  ana 

SPSS'S  2? 

aonXTS^;,rp“y'  “ be 

am  apt  to  think,  that  in  the  day  of  judgment  there  will  hp  small 
alliance  g.ven  to  the  wise  for  then-  want  o?  morals  and  m the  iS! 

eir  want  of  faith,  because  both  are  without  excuse.  Tins 


394 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


renders  the  advantages  equal  of  ignorance  and  knowledge.  But  some 
scruples  in  the  wise,  and  some  vices  in  the  ignorant,  will  perhaps  be 
forgiven,  upon  the  strength  of  temptation  to  each. 

The  value  of  several  circumstances  in  story,  lessens  very  much  by 
distance  of  time,  though  some  minute  circumstances  are  very  valuable; 
and  it  requires  great  judgment  in  a writer  to  distinguish. 

It  is  grown  a word  of  course  for  writers  to  say,  This  critical  age,  as 
divines  say,  This  sinful  age. 

It  is  pleasant  to  observe  how  free  the  present  age  is  in  laying  taxes 
on  the  next  : future  ages  shall  talk  of  this  ; this  shall  be  famous  to  all 
posterity  : whereas  their  time  and  thoughts  will  be  taken  up  about  pre- 
sent things,  as  ours  are  now. 

The  chameleon,  who  is  said  to  feed  upon  nothing  but  air,  has  of  all 
animals  the  nimblest  tongue. 

When  a man  is  made  a spiritual  peer,  he  loses  his  surname  ; when 
a temporal,  his  Christian-name. 

It  is  in  disputes,  as  in  armies ; where  the  weaker  side  sets  up  false 
lights,  and  makes  a great  noise,  to  make  the  enemy  believe  them  more 
numerous  and  strong  than  they  really  are. 

Some  men,  under  the  notion  of  weeding  out  prejudices,  eradicate 
virtue,  honesty,  and  religion. 

In  all  well-instituted  commonwealths,  care  has  been  taken  to  limit 
men's  possessions  ; which  is  done  for  many  reasons,  and  among  the 
rest  for  one  which  perhaps  is  not  often  considered,  that  when  bounds 
are  set  to  men’s  desires,  after  they  have  acquired  as  much  as  the  laws  < 
will  permit  them,  their  private  interest  is  at  an  end,  and  they  have 
nothing  to  do  but  to  take  care  of  the  public. 

There  are  but  three  ways  for  a man  to  revenge  himself  of  the  censure  i 
of  the  world  ; to  despise  it,  to  return  the  like,  or  to  endeavour  to  live  so  : 
as  to  avoid  it : the  first  of  these  is  usually  pretended,  the  last  is  almost 
impossible,  the  universal  practice  is  for  the  second. 

Herodotus  tells  us,  that  in  cold  countries  beasts  very  seldom  have 
horns,  but  in  hot  they  have  very  large  ones.  This  might  bear  a plea- 
sant application. 

I never  heard  a finer  piece  of  satire  against  lawyers,  than  that  of 
astrologers,  when  they  pretend,  by  rules  of  art,  to  tell  when  a suit  will 
end,  and  whether  to  the  advantage  of  the  plaintiff,  or  defendant ; thus  ■ 
making  the  matter  depend  entirely  upon  the  influence  of  the  stars, 
without  the  least  regard  to  the  merits  of  the  cause. 

The  expression  in  Apocrypha  about  Tobit  and  his  dog  following  him, 

I have  often  heard  ridiculed  ; yet  Homer  has  the  same  words  of  Tele- 
machus  more  than  once  ; and  Virgil  says  something  like  it  of  Evander. 
And  I take  the  book  of  Tobit  to  be  partly  poetical. 

I have  known  some  men  possessed  of  good  qualities,  which  were  very 
serviceable  to  others,  but  useless  to  themselves  ; like  a sun-dial  on  the 
front  of  a house,  to  inform  the  neighbours  and  passengers,  but  not  the 
owner  within. 

If  a man  would  register  all  his  opinions  upon  love,  politics,  religion, 
learning,  &c.,  beginning  from  his  youth,  and  so  go  on  to  old  a?e, 
what  a bundle  of  inconsistencies  and  contradictions  would  appear  at 
last! 


THOUGHTS  ON  VARIOUS  SUBJECTS. 


395 


What  they  do  in  Heaven  we  are  ignorant  of ; what  they  do  not  we 
are  told  expressly,  that  they  neither  marry,  nor  are  given  in  marriage. 

When  a man  observes  the  choice  of  ladies  now-a-days  in  the  dis- 
pensing of  their  favours,  can  he  forbear  paying  some  veneration  to  the 
memory  of  those  mares  mentioned  by  Xenophon,  who,  while  their 
manes  were  on,  that  is,  while  they  were  in  their  beauty,  would  never 
admit  the  embraces  of  an  ass  ? 

It  is  a miserable  thing  to  live  in  suspense  ; it  is  the  life  of  a spider. 

The  stoical  scheme  of  supplying  our  wants,  by  lopping  off  our  desires, 
is  like  cutting  off  our  feet,  when  we  want  shoes. 

Physicians  ought  not  to  give  their  judgment  of  religion,  for  the  same 
reason  that  butchers  are  not  admitted  to  be  jurors  upon  life  and  death. 

The  reason  why  so  few  marriages  are  happy,  is,  because  young  ladies 
spend  their  time  in  making  nets  not  in  making  cages. 

If  a man  will  observe  as  he  walks  the  streets,  I believe  he  will  find 
the  merriest  countenances  in  mourning  coaches. 

Nothing  more  unqualifies  a man  to  act  with  prudence,  than  a mis- 
fortune that  is  attended  with  shame  and  guilt. 

The  power  of  fortune  is  confessed  only  by  the  miserable  ; for  the 
happy  impute  all  their  success  to  prudence  and  merit. 

Ambition  often  puts  men  upon  doing  the  meanest  offices  ; so  climb* 
ing  is  performed  in  the  same  posture  with  creeping. 

Ill  company  is  like  a dog,  who  dirts  those  most  whom  he  loves  best 

Censure  is  the  tax  a man  pays  to  the  public  for  being  eminent. 

Although  men  are  accused  for  not  knowing  their  own  weakness,  yet  * 
perhaps  as  few  know  their  own  strength.  It  is  in  men  as  in  soils,  where 
sometimes  there  is  a vein  of  gold,  which  the  owner  knows  not  of. 

Satire  is  reckoned  the  easiest  of  all  wit ; but  I take  it  to  be  otherwise 
in  very  bad  times  : for  it  is  as  hard  to  satirize  well  a man  of  dis- 
tinguished vices,  as  to  praise  well  a man  of  distinguished  virtues.  It  is 
easy  enough  to  do  either  to  people  of  moderate  characters. 

Invention  is  the  talent  of  youth,  and  judgment  of  age  ; so  that  our 
judgment  grows  harder  to  please,  when  we  have  fewer  things  to  offer  it  : 
this  goes  through  the  whole  commerce  of  life.  When  we  are  old,  our 
frienas  find  it  difficult  to  please  us,  and  are  less  concerned  whether  we 
be  pleased  or  not  1 

No  wise  man  ever  wished  to  be  younger. 

An  idle  reason  lessens  the  weight  of  the  good  ones  you  gave  before. 

The  motives  of  the  best  actions  will  not  bear  too  strict  an  inquiry. 

It  is  allowed,  that  the  cause  of  most  actions,  good  or  bad,  may  be 
resolved  into  the  love  of  ourselves  ; but  the  self-love  of  some  men  in- 
clines them  to  please  others  ; and  the  self-love  of  others  is  wholly  em- 
ployed in  pleasing  themselves.  This  makes  the  great  distinction 
between  virtue  and  vice.  Religion  is  the  best  motive  of  all  actions, 
yet  religion  is  allowed  to  be  the  highest  instance  of  self-love. 

When  the  world  has  once  begun  to  use  us  ill,  it  afterward  continues 
the  same  treatment  with  less  scruple  or  ceremony,  as  men  do  to  a 
whore. 

Old  men  view  best  at  a distance  with  the  eyes  of  their  understand* 
ing,  as  well  as  with  those  of  nature. 

Some  people  take  more  care  to  hicffe  their  wisdom  than  their  folly. 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORTS. 


396 

Arbitrary  power  is  the  natural  object  of  temptation  to  a prince,  as 
wine  or  women  to  a young  fellow,  or  a bribe  to  a judge,  or  avarice  to 
old  age,  or  vanity  to  a woman. 

Anthony  Henley’s  farmer,  dying  of  an  asthma,  said,  “Well,  i( 

1 can  get  this  breath  once  out,  Fll  take  care  it  shall  never  get  in 
again.” 

The  humour  of  exploding  many  things  under  the  name  of  trifles, 
fopperies,  and  only  imaginary  goods,  is  a very  false  proof  either  of 
wisdom  or  magnanimity,  and  a great  check  to  virtuous  actions.  For 
instance,  with  regard  to  fame  : there  is  in  most  people  a reluctance 
and  unwillingness  to  be  forgotten.  We  observe  even  among  the  vul- 
gar, how  fond  they  are  to  have  an  inscription  over  their  grave.  It  re- 
quires but  little  philosophy  to  discover  and  observe  that  there  is  no 
intrinsic  value  in  all  this  ; however,  if  it  be  founded  in  our  nature,  as 
an  incitement  to  virtue,  it  ought  not  to  be  ridiculed. 

Complaint  is  the  largest  tribute  Heaven  receives,  and  the  sincerest 
part  of  our  devotion. 

The  common  fluency  of  speech  in  many  men,  and  most  women,  is 
owing  to  a scarcity  of  matter  and  a scarcity  of  words  ; for  whoever  is 
a master  of  language,  and  has  a mind  full  of  ideas,  will  be  apt  in  speak-  ' 
ing  to  hesitate  upon  the  choice  of  both ; whereas  common  speakers 
have  only  one  set  of  ideas,  and  one  set  of  words  to  clothe  them 
in  ; and  these  are  always  ready  at  the  mouth  : so  people  come  faster 
out  of  a church  when  it  is  almost  empty,  than  when  a crowd  is  at  the 
door. 

Few  are  qualified  to  shine  in  company  ; but  it  is  in  most  men’s  powder 
to  be  agreeable.  The  reason,  therefore,  why  conversation  runs  so  low 
at  present,  is  not  the  delect  of  understanding,  but  pride,  vanity,  ill- 
nature,  affectation,  singularity,  positiveness,  or  some  other  vice,  the 
efltect  of  a wrong  education. 

To  be  vain,  is  rather  a mark  of  humility  than  pride.  Vain  men 
delight  in  telling  what  honours  have  been  done  them,  what  great  com- 
pany they  have  kept,  and  the  like,  by  which  they  plainly  confess  that 
these  honours  were  more  than  their  due,  and  such  as  their  friends  would 
not  believe,  if  they  had  not  been  told,  whereas  a man  truly  proud 
thinks  the  greatest  honours  below  his  merit,  and  consequently  scorns 
to  boast.  I therefore  deliver  it  as  a maxim,  that  whoever  desires  the 
character  of  a proud  man,  ought  to  conceal  his  vanity. 

Law,  in  a free  country,  is,  or  ought  to  be,  the  determination  of  the 
majority  of  those  who  have  property  in  land. 

One  argument  used  to  the  disadvantage  of  Providence  I take  to  be  a 
very  strong  one  in  its  defence.  It  is  objected,  that  storms  and  tempests, 
unfruitful  seasons,  serpents,  spiders,  flies,  and  other  noxious  or  trouble- 
some animals,  with  many  more  instances  of  the  like  kind,  discover  an 
imperfection  in  nature,  because  human  life  would  be  much  easier  with- 
out them  ; but  the  design  of  Providence  may  clearly  be  perceived  in 
this  proceeding.  The  motions  of  the  sun  and  moon,  in  short,  the  whole 
system  of  the  universe,  as  far  as  philosophers,  have  been  able  to  dis- 
cover and  observe,  are  in  the  utmost  degree  of  regularity  and  perfection  ; 
but  wherever  God  has  left  to  man  the  power  of  interposing  a remedy 
by  thought  or  labour,  there  he  h*s  placed  things  in  a state  of  imper* 


THOUGHTS  ON  VARIOUS  SUBJECTS. 


397 


fection,  on  purpose  to  stir  up  human  industry,  without  which  life  would 
stagnate,  or  indeed  rather  could  not  subsist  at  all. 

Praise  is  the  daughter  of  present  power. 

How  inconsistent  is  man  with  himself ! 

I have  known  several  persons  of  great  fame  for  wisdom  in  public 
affairs  and  councils,  governed  by  foolish  servants  : 

I have  kn.own  great  ministers,  distinguished  for  wit  and  learning,  who 
preferred  none  but  dunces  r 

I have  known  men  of  great  valour,  cowards  to  their  wives  : 

I have  known  men  of  the  greatest  cunning,  perpetually  cheated  : 

I knew  three  great  ministers,  who  could  exactly  compute  and  settle 
the  accompts  of  a kingdom,  but  were  wholly  ignorant  of  their  own 
economy. 

The  preaching  of  divines  helps  to  preserve  well-inclined  men  in  the 
Course  of  virtue,  but  seldom  or  never  reclaims  the  vicious. 

Princes  usually  make  wiser  choices  than  the  servants  whom  they 
trust  for  the  disposal  of  places.  I have  known  a prince,  more  than 
once,  choose  an  able  minister ; but  I never  observed  that  minister  to 
use  his  credit  in  the  disposal  of  an  employment  to  a person  whom  he 
thought  the  fittest  for  it.  One  of  the  greatest  in  this  age  owned,  and 
excused  the  matter,  from  the  violence  of  parties,  and  the  unreasonable- 
ness of  friends. 

Small  causes  are  sufficient  to  make  a man  uneasy,  when  great  ones 
are  not  in  the  way  ; for  want  of  a block  he  will  stumble  at  a straw. 

high  station,  or  great  riches,  are  in  some  sort  necessary  to 
old  men,  in  order  to  keep  the  younger  at  a distance,  who  are  otherwise 
too  apt  to  insult  them  upon  the  score  of  their  age. 

Every  man  desires  to  live  long  ; but  no  man  would  be  old. 

Love  of  flattery  in  most  men  proceeds  from  the  mean  opinion  they 
have  of  themselves  ; in  women,  from  the  contrary. 

If  books  and  laws  continue  to  increase  as  they  have  done  for  fifty 
years  past,  I am  in  some  concern  for  future  ages,  how  any  man  will  be 
learned,  or  any  man  a lawyer. 

Kings  are  commonly  said  to  have  long  hands  : I wish  they  had  as 
long  ears.  J 

^J7n.ces  their  infancy,  childhood,  and  youth,  are  said  to  discover 
prodigious  parts  and  wit,  to  speak  things  that  surprise  and  astonish  * 
strange,  so  many  hopeful  princes,  and  so  many  shameful  kings  ! If  they 
happen  to  die  young,  they  would  have  been  prodigies  of  wisdom  and 
virtue  Mf  they  live,  they  are  often  prodigies  indeed,  but  of  another  sort. 

Politics,  as  the  word  is  commonly  understood,  are  nothing  but  cor- 
ruptions, and  consequently  of  no  use  to  a good  king,  or  a good 
ministry  ; for  which  reason  all  courts  are  so  full  of  politics. 

Silenus,  the  foster-father  of  Bacchus,  is  always  carried  by  an  ass 
and  has  horns  on  his  head.  The  moral  is,  that  drunkards  are  led  by 
tools,  and  have  a great  chance  to  be  cuckolds. 

Venus,  a beautiful,  good-natured  lady,  was  the  goddess  of  love  • 
Juno,  a terrible  shrew,  the  goddess  of  marriage  : and  they  were  always' 
mortal  enemies.  J y 


Those  who  are  against  religion,  must  needs  be  fools 
we  read  that  of  all  animals,  God  refused  the  first-born 


; and,  therefore, 

of  an  ass. 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


393 

A very  little  wit  is  valued  in  a woman,  as  we  are  pleased  with  a few 

words  spoken  plain  by  a parrot. 

A nice  man  is  a man  of  nasty  ideas. 

Apollo  was  held  the  god  of  physic,  and  sender  of  diseases.  Both 
were  originally  the  same  trade,  and  still  continue. 

Old  men  and  comets  have  been  reverenced  for  the  same  reason ; their 
long  beards,  and  pretences  to  foretell  events. 

A person  was  asked  at  court,  “ what  he  thought  of  an  ambassador 
and  his  train,  who  were  all  embroidery  and  lace,  full  of  bows,  cringes, 
and  gestures?”  He  said,  “it  was  Solomon’s  importation,  gold  and  apes.” 

There  is  a story  in  Pausanius  of  a plot  for  betraying  a city  discovered 
by  the  braying  of  an  ass,  the  cackling  of  geese  saved  the  Capitol  ; and 
Catiline’s  conspiracy  was  discovered  by  a whore.  These  are  the  only 
three  animals,  as  far  as  I remember,  famous  in  history  as  evidences 
and  informers. 

Most  sorts  of  diversion  in  men,  children,  and  other  animals,  are  in 
imitation  of  fighting. 

Augustus  meeting  an  ass  with  a lucky  name,  foretold  himself  good 
fortune.  I meet  many  asses,  but  none  of  them  have  lucky  names. 

If  a man  makes  me  keep  my  distance,  the  comfort  is,  he  keeps  his 
at  the  same  time. 

Who  can  deny  that  all  men  are  violent  lovers  of  truth,  when  we 
see  them  so  positive  in  their  errors,  which  they  will  maintain  out  of 
their  zeal  to  truth,  although  they  contradict  themselves  every  day  of 
their  lives  ? 

That  was  excellently  observed,  say  I,  when  I read  a passage  in  an 
author,  where  his  opinion  agrees  with  mine.  When  we  differ,  there  I 
pronounce  him  to  be  mistaken.  j 

Very  few  men,  properly  speaking,  live  at  present,  but  are  providing  , 
to  live  another  time. 

As  universal  a practice  as  lying  is,  and  as  easy  a one  as  it  seems,  I 
do  not  remember  to  have  heard  three  good  lies  in  all  my  conversation, 
even  from  those  who  were  most  celebrated  in  that  faculty. 

Laws  penned  with  the  utmost  care  and  exactness,  and  in  the  vulgar 
language,  are  often  perverted  to  wrong  meanings  ; then  why  should 
we  wonder  that  the  Bible  is  so  ? 

Although  men  are  accused  for  not  knowing  their  weakness,  yet 
perhaps  as  few  know  their  own  strength. 

A man  seeing  a wasp  creeping  into  a vial  filled  with  honey  that  was 
hung  on  a fruit  tree,  said  thus  : “ Why,  thou  sottish  animal,  art  thou 
mad  to  go  into  the  vial,  where  you  see  many  hundred  of  your  kind 
dying  before  you  ?’’  “ The  reproach  is  just,”  answered  the  wasp,  “ but 

not  from  you  men,  who  are  so  far  from  taking  example  by  other 
people’s  follies,  that  you  will  not  take  warning  by  your  own.  If  after 
tailing  several  times  into  this  vial,  and  escaping  by  chance,  I should  fall 
in  again,  I should  then  but  resemble  you.” 

An  old  miser  kept  a tame  jackdaw,  that  used  to  steal  pieces  of  money 
and  hide  them  in  a hole  ; which,  the  cat  observing,  asked,  “ Why  he 
would  hoard  up  those  round,  shining  things  that  he  could  make  no  use 
of?”  “ Wny,”  said  the  jackdaw,  “my  master  has  a whole  chest  full, 
and  makes  no  more  use  of  them  than  I.” 


THOUGHTS  OH  VARIOUS  SUBJECTS.  399 

Men  are  contented  to  be  laughed  at  for  their  wit,  but  not  fbr  their 

folly. 

If  the  men  of  wit  and  genius  would  resolve  never  to  complain  in  their 
works  of  critics  and  detractors,  the  next  age  would  not  know  that  they 
ever  had  any. 

After  all  the  maxims  and  systems  of  trade  and  commerce,  a stander- 
by  would  think  the  affairs  of  the  world  were  most  ridiculously  contrived. 

There  are  few  countries,  which,  if  well  cultivated,  would  not  support 
double  the  number  of  their  inhabitants,  and  yet  fewer  where  one  third 
part  of  the  people  are  not  extremely  stinted  even  in  the  necessaries  of 
life.  I send  out  twenty  barrels  of  corn,  which  would  maintain  a family 
in  bread  for  a year,  and  I bring  back  in  return  a vessel  of  wine,  which 
half  a dozen  good  fellows  would  drink  in  less  than  a month  at  the  ex- 
pense of  their  health  and  reason. 

A man  would  have  but  few  spectators  if  he  offered  to  show  for  three- 
pence how  he  could  thrust  a redhot  iron  into  a barrel  of  gunpowder, 
and  it  should  not  take  fire. 

Query,  Whether  churches  are  not  dormitories  of  the  living  as  well  as 
of  the  dead  ? 

Harry  Killegrew  said  to  Lord  Wharton,  “You  would  not  swear  at 
that  rate  if  you  thought  you  were  doing  God  honour.” 

A copy  of  verses  kept  in  the  cabinet,  and  only  shown  to  a few  friends, 
is  like  a virgin  much  sought  after  and  admired  : but  when  printed  and 
published  is  like  a common  whore,* whom  anybody  may  purchase  for 
half  a crown. 

Louis  the  XIVth  of  France  spent  his  life  in  turning  a good  name 
into  a great. 

Since  the  union  of  divinity  and  humanity  is  the  great  article  of  our 
religion,  it  is  odd  to  see  some  clergymen  in  their  writings  of  divinity 
wholly  devoid  of  humanity. 

The  Epicureans  began  to  spread  at  Rome  in  the  empire  of  Augustus, 
as  the  Socinians  ; and  even  the  Epicureans,  too,  did  in  England  toward 
the  end  of  King  Charles  the  Second’s  reign  ; which  is  reckoned,  though 
very  absurdly,  our  Augustan  age.  They  both  seem  to  be  corrup- 
tions occasioned  by  luxury  and  peace,  and  by  politeness  beginning  to 
decline. 

Sometimes  I read  a book  with  pleasure,  and  detest  the  author. 

At  a bookseller’s  shop  some  time  ago  I saw  a book  with  this  title : 
u Poems  by  the  author  of  the  Choice.”*  Not  enduring  to  read  a dozen 
lines,  I asked  the  company  with  me  whether  they  had  ever  seen  the 
book,  or  heard  of  the  poem  whence  the  author  denominated  himself ; 
they  were  all  as  ignorant  as  I.  But  I find  it  common  with  these  small 
dealers  in  wit  and  learning  to  give  themselves  a title  from  their  first 
adventure,  as  “ Don  Quixote”  usually  did  from  his  last.  This  arises 
from  that  great  importance  which  everybody  supposes  himself  to  be  of. 

One  Dennis,  commonly  called  “ the  critic,”  who  had  writ  a three- 
penny pamphlet  against  the  power  of  France,  being  in  the  country,  and 

* John  Pomfret.  Dr.  Johnson,  however,  asserted  that  “ perhaps  no  com- 
position in  our  language  has  been  oftener  perused  than  Pomfret  s Choice. — Ex* 


400 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WOE  NS. 


hearing  of  a French  privateer  hovering  about  the  coast,  although  he 
were  twenty  miles  from  the  sea,  fled  to  town,  and  mid  his  friends.  “ they 
need  not  wonder  at  his  haste,  for  the  King  of  France  having  got  in- 
te  iigence  where  he  was  had  sent  a privateer  on  purpose  to  catch  him/* 

Dr.  Gee,  prebendary  of  Westminster,  who  had  writ  a small  paper 
against  Popery,  being  obliged  to  travel  for  his  health,  affected  to  dis- 
guise his  person  and  change  his  name  as  he  passed  through  Portugal, 
Spain,  and  Italy;  telling  all  the  English  he  met  “that  he  was  afraid  of 
being  murdered,  or  put  into  the  Inquisition.”  He  was  acting  the  same 
farce  at  Paris,  till  Mr.  Prior  (who  was  then  secretary  to  the  embassy) 
quite  disconcerted  the  doctor  by  maliciously  discovering  the  secret  ; 
and  offering  to  engage  body  for  body  that  not  a creature  would  hurt 
him,  or  had  ever  heard  of  him  or  his  pamphlet. 

A chambermaid  to  a lady  of  my  acquaintance,  thirty  miles  from 
London,  had  the  very  same  turn  of  thought : when  talking  with  one  of 
her  fellow-servants,  she  said,  “ I hear  it  is  all  over  London  already 
that  I am  going  to  leave  my  lady”;  and  so  had  a footman,  who  being 
newly  married  desired  his  comrade  to  tell  him  freely  what  the  town 
said  of  it. 

When  somebody  was  telling  a certain  great  minister  that  people 
were  discontented,  “ Pho,”  said  he,  “ half  a dozen  fools  are  prating  in  a 
coffee  house,  and  presently  think  their  own  noise  about  their  ears  is 
made  by  the  world.’’ 

The  death  of  a private  man  is  generally  of  so  little  importance  to  the 
world,  that  it  cannot  be  a thing  of  great  importance  in  itself ; and  yet 
I do  not  observe,  from  the  practice  of  mankind,  that  either  philosophy 
or  nature  have  sufficiently  armed  us  against  the  fears  which  attend  it. 
Neither  do  I find  anything  able  to  reconcile  us  to  it,  but  extreme  pain, 
shame,  or  despair  ; for  poverty,  imprisonment,  ill  fortune,  grief,  sick-  ' 
ness,  and  old  age  do  generally  fail. 

Whence  comes  the  custom  of  bidding  a woman  look  upon  her  apron- 
strings  to  find  an  excuse  ? Was  it  not  from  the  apron  of  fig-leaves 
worn  by  Eve  when  she  covered  herself,  and  was  the  first  of  her  sex  who 
made  a bad  excuse  for  eating  the  forbidden  fruit  ? 

I never  wonder  to  see  men  wicked,  but  I often  wonder  to  see  them 
not  ashamed. 

Do  not  we  see  how  easily  we  pardon  our  own  actions  and  passions, 
and  the  very  infirmities  of  our  bodies  ; why  should  it  be  wonderful  to 
find  us  pardon  our  own  dulness  ? 

There  is  no  vice  or  folly  that  requires  so  much  nicety  and  skill  to 
manage  as  vanity  ; nor  any  which,  by  ill  management,  makes  so  con- 
temptible a figure. 

Observation  is  an  old  man’s  memory. 

Eloquence,  smooth  and  cutting,  is  like  a razor  whetted  with  oil. 

Imaginary  evils  soon  become  real  ones  by  indulging  our  reflections 
on  them  ; as  he,  who  in  a melancholy  fancy  sees  something  like  a face 
on  the  wall  or  the  wainscot,  can,  by  two  or  three  touches  with  a lead 
pencil,  make  it  look  visible,  and  agreeing  with  what  he  fancied. 

Men  of  great  parts  are  often  unfortunate  in  the  management  of  public 
business,  because  they  are  apt  to  go  out  of  the  common  road  by  the 
quickness  of  their  imagination.  This  1 once  said  to  my  Lord  Bo/ing* 


THOUGHTS  ON  VARIOUS  SUBJECTS. 


401 


broke,  and  desired  he  would  observe  that  the  clerks  in  his  office  used  a 
sort  of  ivory  knife  with  a blunt  edge  to  divide  a sheet  of  paper,  wnich 
never  failed  to  cut  it  even,  only  requiring  a steady  hand  ; whereas,  if 
they  should  make  use  of  a sharp  pen-knife,  the  sharpness  would  make 
it  go  often  out  of  the  crease  and  disfigure  the  paper. 

“He  who  does  not  provide  for  his  own  house,”  St.  Paul  says,  “is 
worse  than  an  infidel.”  And  I think,  he  who  provides  only  for  his  own 
house  is  just  equal  with  an  infidel. 

Jealousy,  like  fire,  may  shrivel  up  horns,  but  it  makes  them  stink. 

A footman’s  hat  should  fly  off  to  everybody  ; and  therefore  Mercury, 
who  was  Jupiter’s  footman,  had  wings  fastened  to  his  cap. 

When  a man  pretends  love,  but  courts  for  money,  he  is  like  a juggler, 
who  conjures  away  your  shilling,  and  conveys  something  very  indecent 
under  the  hat. 

All  panegyrics  are  mingled  with  an  infusion  of  poppy. 

I have  known  men  happy  enough  at  ridicule,  who  upon  grave  sub- 
jects were  perfectly  stupid  ; of  which  Dr.  Echard,  of  Cambridge,  who 
writ  “ The  Contempt  of  the  Clergy,”  was  a great  instance. 

One  top  of  Parnassus  was  sacred  to  Bacchus,  the  other  to  Apollo. 

Matrimony  has  many  children  : Repentance,  Discord,  Poverty,  Jea- 
lousy, Sickness,  Spleen,  Loathing,  &c. 

Vision  is  the  art  of  seeing  things  invisible. 

The  two  maxims  of  any  great  man  at  court  are  : always  to  keep  his 
countenance,  and  never  to  keep  his  word. 

I asked  a poor  man  how  he  did?  He  said  he  was  like  a washball, 
always  in  decay. 

Hippocrates,  Aph.  32,  sect.  6.,  observes,  that  stuttering  people  are 
always  subject  to  a looseness.  I wish  physicians  had  power  to  remove 
the  profusion  of  words  in  many  people  to  the  inferior  parts. 

A man  dreamed  he  was  a cuckold  ; a friend  told  him  it  was  a bad 
sign,  because,  when  a dream  is  true,  Virgil  says  it  passes  through  the 
horned  gate. 

Love  is  a flame,  and  therefore  we  say  beauty  is  attractive  ; because 
physicians  observe  that  fire  is  a great  drawer. 

Civis,  the  most  honourable  name  among  the  Romans  ; a citizen,  a 
word  of  contempt  among  us. 

A lady,  who  had  gallantries  and  several  children,  told  her  husband 
he  was  like  the  austere  man,  who  reaped  where  he  did  not  sow. 

We  read  that  an  ass’s  head  was  sold  for  eighty  pieces  of  silver ; they 
have  lately  been  sold  ten  thousand  times  dearer,  and  yet  they  were 
never  more  plentiful. 

I must  complain  the  cards  are  ill  shuffled,  till  I have  a good 
hand. 

When  I am  reading  a book,  whether  wise  or  silly,  it  seems  to  me  to 
be  alive  and  talking  to  me. 

Whoever  live  at  a different  end  of  the  town  from  me,  I look  upon  as 
persons  out  of  the  world,  and  only  myself  and  the  scene  about  me  to 
be  in  it. 

When  I was  young,  I thought  all  the  world,  as  well  as  myself,  was 
Wholly  taken  up  in  discoursing  upon  the  last  new  play. 

My  Lord  Cromarty,  after  fourscore,  went  to  his  country  house  in 

26 


40* 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


Scotland  with  a resolution  to  stay  six  years  there  and  live  thriftily, 
in  order  to  save  up  money  that  he  might  spend  in  London. 

It  is  said  of  the  horses  in  the  vision,  that  “ their  power  was  in  their 
mouths  and  in  their  tails.”  What  is  said  of  horses  in  the  vision,  in 
reality  may  be  said  of  women. 

Elephants  are  always  drawn  smaller  than  life ; but  a flea  always 
larger. 

When  old  folks  tell  us  of  many  passages  in  their  youth  between  them 
and  their  company,  we  are  apt  to  think  how  much  happier  those  times 
were  than  the  present. 

Why  does  the  elder  sister  dance  barefoot,  when  the  younger  is 
married  before  her?  Is  it  not  that  she  may  appear  shorter,  and  con- 
sequently be  thought  younger  than  the  bride  ? 

No  man  will  take  counsel,  but  every  man  will  take  money  : there- 
fore money  is  better  than  counsel. 

I never  yet  knew  a wag  (as  the  term  is),  who  was  not  a dunce. 

A person  reading  to  me  a dull  poem  of  his  own  making,  1 prevailed 
on  him  to  scratch  out  six  lines  together  ; in  turning  over  the  leaf,  the 
ink  being  wet,  it  marked  as  many  lines  on  the  other  side  ; whereof,  the 
poet  complaining,  I bid  him  be  easy,  “ for  it  would  be  better  if  those 
were  out  too.” 

At  Windsor,  I was  observing  to  my  Lord  Bolingbroke,  “ that  the 
tower  where  the  maids  of  honour  lodged  (who  at  that  time  were  not  ' 
very  handsome)  was  much  frequented  with  crows.”  My  lord  said*  “ it 
was  because  they  smelt  carrion.” 


A TREATISE 

ON  GOOD  MANNERS  AND  GOOD  BREEDING.  | 

GOOD  manners  is  the  art  of  making  those  people  easy  with  whom 
we  converse. 

Whoever  makes  the  fewest  persons  uneasy  is  the  best  bred  in  the 
company. 

As  the  best  law  is  founded  upon  reason,  so  are  the  best  manners. 
And  as  some  lawyers  have  introduced  unreasonable  things  into  common 
law,  so  likewise  many  teachers  have  introduced  absurd  things  into 
common  good  manners. 

One  principal  point  of  this  art  is,  to  suit  our  behaviour  to  the  three 
several  degrees  of  men  : our  superiors,  our  equals,  and  those  below  us. 

For  instance,  to  press  either  of  the  two  former  to  eat  or  drink  is  a I 
breach  of  manners  ; but  a tradesman  or  a farmer  must  be  thus  treated, 
or  else  it  will  be  difficult  to  persuade  them  that  they  are  welcome. 

Pride,  ill  nature,  and  want  of  sense,  are  the  three  great  sources  o:  ill 
manners  ; without  some  one  of  these  defects,  no  man  will  behave  himself 
ill  for  want  of  experience,  or  of  what,  in  the  language  of  fools,  is  called 
knowing  the  world. 

I defy  any  one  to  assign  an  incident  wherein  reason  will  not  direct 
us  what  to  say  or  do  in  company,  if  we  are  not  misled  by  pride  or  ill* 
nature. 


ON  GOOD  MANNERS  AND  BREEDING. 


403 


Therefore  I insist  that  good  sense  is  the  principal  foundation  of  good 
manners  ; but,  because  the  former  is  a gift  which  very  few  among  man- 
kind are  possessed  of,  therefore  all  the  civilized  nations  of  the  world 
have  agreed  upon  fixing  some  rules  upon  common  behaviour,  best 
suited  to  their  general  customs  or  fancies,  as  a kind  of  artificial  good 
sense,  to  supply  the  defects  of  reason.  Without  which  the  gentle- 
manly part  of  dunces  would  be  perpetually  at  cuffs,  as  they  seldom  fail 
when  they  happen  to  be  drunk,  or  engaged  in  squabbles  about  women 
or  play.  And,  God  be  thanked,  there  hardly  happens  a duel  in  a year, 
which  may  not  be  imputed  to  one  of  these  three  motives.  Upon  which 
account,  I should  be  exceedingly  sorry  to  find  the  legislature  make  any 
new  laws  against  the  practice  of  duelling  ; because  the  methods  are 
easy,  and  many,  for  a wise  man  to  avoid  a quarrel  with  honour,  or  en- 
gage in  it  vvith  innocence.  And  I can  discover  no  political  evil  in  suf- 
fering bullies,  sharpers,  and  rakes,  to  rid  the  world  of  each  other  by  a 
method  of  their  own,  where  the  law  has  not  been  able  to  find  an 
expedient. 

As  the  common  forms  of  good  manners  were  intended  for  regulating 
the  conduct  of  those  who  have  weak  understandings,  so  they  have  been 
corrupted  by  the  persons  for  whose  use  they  were  contrived.  For 
these  people  have  fallen  into  a needless  and  endless  way  of  multiply- 
ing ceremonies,  which  have  been  extremely  troublesome  to  those  who 
practise  them,  and  insupportable  to  everybody  else  ; insomuch  that 
wise  men  are  often  more  uneasy  at  the  over-civility  of  these  refiners, 
than  they  could  possibly  be  in  the  conversation  of  peasants  or 
mechanics. 

The  impertinences  of  this  ceremonial  behaviour  are  nowhere  better 
seen  than  at  those  tables  where  the  ladies  preside,  who  value  themselves 
upon  account  of  their  good  breeding  ; where  a man  must  reckon  upon 
passing  an  hour  without  doing  any  one  thing  he  has  a mind  to  ; unless 
he  will  be  so  hardy  as  to  break  through  all  the  settled  decorum  of  the 
family.  She  determines  what  he  loves  best,  and  how  much  he  shall  eat 
and  if  the  master  of  the  house  happens  tte  be  of  the  same  disposition, 
he  proceeds  in  the  same  tyrannical  manner,  to  prescribe  in  the  drinking 
part : at  the  same  time  you  are  under  the  necessity  of  answering  a 
thousand  apologies  for  your  entertainment.  And  although  a good  deal 
of  this  humour  is  pretty  well  worn  off  among  many  people  of  the  best 
fashion,  yet  too  much  of  it  still  remains,  especially  in  the  country  ; 
where  an  honest  gentleman  assured  me,  that  having  been  kept  four 
days  against  his  will  at  a friend’s  house,  with  all  the  circumstances  of 
hiding  his  boots,  locking  up  the  stable,  and  other  contrivances  of  the 
like  nature,  he  could  not  remember,  from  the  moment  he  came  into  the 
house  to  the  moment  he  left  it,  any  one  thing  wherein  his  inclination 
was  not  directly  contradicted  ; as  if  the  whole  family  had  entered  into 
a combination  to  torment  him. 

But,  beside  all  this,  it  would  be  endless  to  recount  the  many  foolish 
and  ridiculous  accidents  I have  observed  among  these  unfortunate  pro- 
selytes to  ceremony.  I have  seen  a duchess  fairly  knocked  down,  by 
the  precipitancy  of  an  officious  coxcomb,  running  to  save  her  the 
trouble  of  opening  a door.  I remember,  upon  a birthday  at  court,  a 
great  lady  was  rendered  utterly  disconsolate  oy  a dish  of  sauce  let  fall 

26 — 2 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


104 

by  a page  directly  upon  her  head-dress  and  brocade,  while  she  gave  a 
sudden  turn  to  her  elbow  upon  some  point  of  ceremony  with  the.  person 
who  sat  next  to  her.  Monsieur  Buys,  the  Dutch  envoy,  whose  politics 
and  manners  were  much  of  a size,  brought  a son  with  him,  about 
thirteen  years  old,  to  a great  table  at  court.  The  boy  and  his  father, 
whatever  they  put  on  their  plates,  they  first  offered  round  in  order,  to 
every  person  in  company;  so  that  we  could  not  get  a minute’s  quiet 
during  the  whole  dinner.  At  last  their  two  plates  happened  to  en- 
counter, and  with  so  much  violence,  that,  being  china,  they  broke  in 
twenty  pieces,  and  stained  half  the  company  with  wet  sweetmeats  and 
cream. 

There  is  a pedantry  in  manners,  as  in  all  arts  and  sciences  : and 
sometimes  in  trades.  Pedantry  is  properly  the  overrating  of  any  kind  of 
knowledge  we  pretend  to.  And  if  that  kind  of  knowledge  be  a trifle  in  it- 
self, the  pedantry  is  the  greater.  For  which  reason  I look  upon  fiddlers, 
dancing-masters,  heralds,  masters  of  the  ceremony,  &c.,  to  be  greater 
pedants  than  Lipsius,or  the  elder  Scaliger.  With  this  kind  of  pedants, the 
court,  while  I knew  it,  was  always  plentifully  stocked  ; I mean  from  the 
gentleman  usher  (at  least)  inclusive,  downward  to  the  gentleman  porter: 
who  are,  generally  speaking,  the  most  insignificant  race  of  people  that 
this  island  can  afford,  and  with  fhe  smallest  tincture  of  good  manners  ; 
* which  is  the  only  trade  they  profess.  For,  being  wholly  illiterate,  and 
conversing  chiefly  with  each  other,  they  reduce  the  whole  system  of 
breeding  within  the  forms  and  circles  of  their  several  offices  : and,  as 
they  are  below  the  notice  of  ministers,  they  live  and  die  in  court  under 
all  revolutions,  with  great  obsequiousness  to  those  who  are  in  any  degree 
of  credit  or  favour,  and  with  rudeness  and  insolence  to  everybody  else. 
Whence  I have  long  concluded,  that  good  manners  are  not  a plant  of  the 
court  growth  ; for  if  they  were,  those  people,  who  have  understandings 
directly  of  a level  for  such  acquirements,  who  have  served  such  long 
apprenticeships  to  nothing  else,  would  certainly  have  picked  them  up. 
For,  as  to  the  great  officers,  who  attend  the  prince’s  person  or  councils, 
or  preside  in  his  family,  they  are  a transient  body,  who  have  no  better 
a title  to  good  manners  than  their  neighbours,  nor  will  probably  have 
recourse  to  gentleman  ushers  for  instruction.  So  that  I know  little  to 
be  learned  at  court  upon  this  head,  except  in  the  material  circumstance 
of  dress  ; wherein  the  authority  of  the  maids  of  honour  must  indeed  be 
allowed  to  be  almost  equal  to  that  of  ja.  favourite  actress. 

I remember  a passage  my  Lord  Bolingbroke  told  me  ; that  going  to 
receive  Prince  Eugene  of  Savoy  at  his  landing,  in  order  to  conduct  him 
immediately  to  the  queen,  the  prince  said,  he  was  much  concerned  that 
he  could  not  see  her  majesty  that  night ; for  Monsieur  Hoffman  (who 
was  then  by)  had  assured  his  highness  that  he  could  not  be  admitted 
into  her  presence  with  a tied-up  periwig ; that  his  equipage  was  not 
arrived ; and  that  he  had  endeavoured  in  vain  to  borrow  a long  one 
among  all  his  valets  and  pages.  My  lord  turned  the  matter  into  a jest, 
and  brought  the  prince  to  her  majesty  ; for  which  he  was  highly  cen- 
sured by  the  whole  tribe  of  gentleman  ushers  ; among  whom  Monsieur 
Hoffman,  an  old  dull  resident  of  the  emperor’s,  had  picked  up  this 
material  point  of  ceremony  ; and  which,  I believe,  was  the  best  lesson 
be  had  learned  in  hve-and-twenty  years’  residence* 


ON  GOOD  MANNERS  AND  BREEDING.  405 

• 

I make  a difference  between  good  manners  and  good  breeding; 
although,  in  order  to  vary  my  exuression,  I am  sometimes  forced  to  con- 
found them.  By  the  first,  I oniy  understand  the  art  of  remembering 
ana  applying  certain  settled  forms  of  general  behaviour.  But  good 
breeding  is  of  a much  larger  extent ; for,  beside  an  uncommon  degree 
of  literature  sufficient  to  qualify  a gentleman  for  reading  a play  or  a 
political  pamphlet,  it  takes  in  a great  compass  of  knowledge  ; no  less 
than  that  of  dancing,  fighting,gaming,  making  the  circle  of  Italy,  riding 
tiie  great  horse,  and  speaking  French  ; not  to  mention  some  other 
secondary  or  subaltern  accomplishments,  which  are  more  easily  ac- 
quired. So  that  the  difference  between  good  breeding  and  good 
manners  lies  in  this  ; that  the  former  cannot  be  attained  to  by  the  best 
understandings  without  study  and  labour : whereas  a tolerable  degree 
of  reason  will  instruct  us  in  every  part  of  good  manners,  without  other 
assistance. 

I can  think  of  nothing  more  useful  upon  this  subject,  than  to  point 
out  some  particulars,  wherein  the  very  essentials  of  good  manners  are 
concerned,  the  neglect  or  perverting  of  which  does  very  much  disturb 
the  good  commerce  of  the  world,  by  introducing  a traffic  of  mutual  un- 
easiness in  most  companies. 

First,  A necessary  part  of  good  manners  is  a punctual  observance  of 
time  at  our  own  dwellings,  or  those  of  others,  or  at  third  places  ; 
whether  upon  matter  of  civility,  business,  or  diversion  ; which  rule, 
though  it  be  a plain  dictate  of  common  reason  ; yet  the  greatest  minis- 
ter 1 ever  knew  was  the  greatest  trespasser  against  it : by  which  all 
his  business  doubled  upon  him,  and  placed  him  in  a continual  arrear. 
Upon  which  I often  used  to  rally  him,  as  deficient  in  point  of  good 
manners.  I have  known  more  than  one  ambassador,  and  secretary  of 
state,  with  a very  moderate  portion  of  intellectuals,  execute  their  offices 
with  good  success  and  applause,  by  the  mere  force  of  exactness  and 
regularity.  If  you  duly  observe  time  for  the  service  of  another,  it 
doubles  the  obligation  : if  upon  your  own  account,  it  would  be  manifest 
folly,  as  well  as  ingratitude,  to  neglect  it ; if  both  are  concerned,  to 
make  your  equal  or  inferior  attend  on  you  to  his  own  disadvantage,  is 
pride  and  injustice. 

Ignorance  of  forms  cannot  properly  be  styled  ill  manners  ; because 
forms  are  subject  to  frequent  changes  ; and  consequently,  being  not 
founded  upon  reason,  are  beneath  a wise  man’s  regard.  Besides,  they 
vary  in  every  country  ; and  after  a short  period  of  time,  very  frequently 
in  the  same  ; so  that  a man,  who  travels,  must  needs  be  at  first  a 
stranger  to  them  in  every  court  through  which  he  passes  ; and,  perhaps 
at  his  return,  as  much  a stranger  in  his  own  ; and  after  all,  they  are 
easiei  to  be  remembered  or  forgotten  than  faces  or  names. 

Indeed,  among  the  many  impertinencies  that  superficial  young  men 
bring  with  them  from  abroad,  this  bigotry  of  forms  is  one  of  the  princi- 
pal, and  more  predominant  than  the  rest  ; who  look  upon  them  not 
only  as  if  they  were  matters  capable  of  admitting  of  choice,  but  even  as 
points  of  importance  ; and  are  therefore  zealous  on  all  occasions  to  in- 
troduce and  propagate  the  new  forms  and  lashions  they  have  Drought 
bacK  with  them  ; so  that,  usually  speaking,  the  worst  bred  person  m 
company,  is  a young  traveller  just  returned  from  abroad. 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS* 


405 


HINTS  ON  GOOD  MANNERS. 

GOOD  Manners  is  the  art  of  making  every  reasonable  person  in  the 
company  easy,  and  to  be  easy  ourselves. 

What  passes  for  good  manners  in  the  world,  generally  produces  quite 
contrary  effects. 

Many  persons  of  both  sexes,  whom  I have  known,  and  who  passed 
for  well-bred  in  their  own  and  the  world's  opinion,  are  the  most  trouble- 
some in  company  to  others  and  themselves. 

Nothing  is  so  great  an  instance  of  ill  manners  as  flattery.  If  you 
flatter  all  the  company,  you  please  none  ; if  you  flatter  only  one  or  two, 
you  affronfthe  rest. 

Flattery  is  the  worst  and  falsest  way  of  showing  our  esteem. 

Where  the  company  meets,  I am  confident  the  few  reasonable  persons 
are  every  minute  tempted  to  curse  the  man  or  woman  among  them, 
who  endeavours  to  be  most  distinguished  for  their  good  manners. 

A man  of  sense  would  rather  fast  till  night,  than  dine  at  some  tables, 
where  the  lady  of  the  house  is  possessed  with  good  manners  ; uneasi- 
ness, pressing  to  eat,  teasing  with  civility ; less  practised  in  England 
than  here. 

Courts  are  the  worst  of  all  schools  to  teach  good  manners. 

A courtly  bow,  or  gait,  or  dress,  are  no  part  of  good  manners  ; and 
therefore  every  man  of  good  understanding  is  capable  of  being  well- 
bred  upon  any  occasion. 

To  speak  in  such  a manner  as  may  possibly  offend  any  reasonable 
person  in  company,  is  the  highest  instance  of  ill  manners.  Good  man- 
ners chiefly  consist  in  actions,  not  in  words.  Modesty  and  humility 
the  chief  ingredients. 

I have  known  the  court  of  England  under  four  reigns,  the  two  last 
but  for  a short  time  ; and  whatever  good  manners  or  politeness  I ob- 
served in  any  of  them,  was  not  of  the  court  growth,  but  imported  : for 
a courtier  by  trade,  as  gentlemen  ushers,  bedchamber- women,  maids  of 

linnnnr  * **•*••* 


Of  Good  Manners  as  to  Conversation . 

Men  of  wit  and  good  understanding,  as  well  as  breeding,  are  some- 
times deceived,  and  give  offence,  by  conceiving  a better  opinion  of 
those  with  whom  they  converse  than  they  ought  to  do.  Thus  I have 
often  known  the  most  innocent  raillery,  and  even  of  that  kind  wnich 
was  meant  for  praise,  to  be  mistaken  for  abuse  and  reflection. 

Of  gibing,  and  how  gibers  ought  to  suffer. 

Of  arguers,  perpetual  contradictors,  long  talkers,  those  who  are 
absent  in  company,  interrupters,  not  listeners,  loud  laughers. 

Of  those  men  and  women  whose  face  is  ever  in  a smile,  talk  ever 
with  a smile,  condole  with  a smile,  &c. 

Argument,  as  usually  managed,  is  the  worst  sort  of  conversation, 
as  it  is  generally  in  books  the  worst  sort  of  reading. 


GOOD  MANNERS  AS  TO  CONVERSATION.  407 

Good  conversation  is  not  to  be  expected  in  much  company,  because 
few  listen,  and  there  is  continual  interruption.  But  good  or  ill  manners 
are  discovered,  let  the  company  be  ever  so  large. 

Perpetual  aiming  at  wit,  a very  bad  part  of  conversation.  It  is  done 
to  support  a character  : it  generally  fails:  it  is  a sort  of  insult  on  the 
company,  and  a constraint  upon  the  speaker. 

For  a man  to  talk  in  his  own  trade,  or  business,  or  faculty,  is  a great 
breach  of  good  manners.  Divines,  physicians,  lawyers,  soldiers,  par- 
ticularly poets,  are  frequently  guilty  of  this  weakness.  A poet  con- 
ceives that  the  whole  kingdom  ****** 

CHARACTER  OF  DR.  SHERIDAN. 

WRITTEN  IN  THE  YEAR  1738. 

DOCTOR  THOMAS  SHERIDAN  died  at  Rathfarnam,  the  tenth 
of  October,  1738,  at  three  of  the  clock  in  the  afternoon  : 
his  diseases  were  a dropsy  and  asthma.  He  was  doubtless  the  best 
instructor  of  youth  in  these  kingdoms,  or  perhaps  in  Europe  ; and  as 
great  a master  of  the  Greek  and  Roman  languages.  He  had  a very 
fruitful  invention,  and  a talent  for  poetry.  His  English  verses  were 
full  of  wit  and  humour,  but  neither  his  prose  nor  verse  sufficiently  cor- 
rect : however,  he  would  readily  submit  to  any  friend  who  had  a true 
taste  in  .prose  or  verse.  He  has  left  behind  him  a very  great  collection, 
in  several  volumes,  of  stories,  humorous,  witty,  wise,  or  some  way  use- 
ful, gathered  from  a vast  number  of  Greek,  Roman,  Italian,  Spanish, 
French,  and  English  writers.  I believe  I may  have  seen  about  thirty, 
large  enough  to  make  as  many  moderate  books  in  octavo.  But  among 
these  extracts,  there  were  many  not  worth  regard  ; for  five  or  six,  at 
least,  were  of  little  use  or  entertainment.  He  w>as  (as  it  is  frequently 
the  case  in  men  of  wit  and  learning)  what  the  French  call  a dupe,  and 
in  a very  high  degree.  The  greatest  dunce  of  a tradesman  could  im- 
pose upon  him,  for  he  was  altogether  ignorant  in  worldly  management. 
His  chief  shining  quality  was  that  of  a schoolmaster:  here  he  shone 
in  his  proper  element.  He  had  so  much  skill  and  practice  in  the  physi- 
ognomy of  boys,  that  he  rarely  mistook  at  the  first  view.  His  scholars 
loved  and  feared  him.  He  often  rather  chose  to  shame  the  stupid,  but 
punish  the  idle,  and  expose  them  to  all  the  lads,  which  was  more  severe 
than  lashing.  Among  the  gentlemen  in  this  kingdom  who  have  any 
share  of  education,  the  scholars  of  Dr.  Sheridan  infinitely  excel,  in 
number  and  knowledge,  all  their  brethren  sent  from  other  schools. 

To  look  on  the  doctor  in  some  other  lights,  he  was  in  many  things 
very  indiscreet,  to  say  no  worse.  He  acted  like  too  many  clergymen, 
who  are  in  haste  to  be  married  when  very  young  ; and  from  hence  pro- 
ceeded all  the  miseries  of  his  life.  The  portion  he  got  proved  to  be  just 
the  reverse  of  ^500,  for  he  was  poorer  by  a thousand  : so  many  incum- 
brances of  a mother-in-law,  and  poor  relations,  whom  he  was  forced  to 
support  tor  many  years.  Instead  of  breeding  up  his  daughters  to 
housewitery  and  plain  clothes,  he  got  them,  at  a great  expense,  to  be 
dad  like  ladies  who  had  plentiiul  fortunes ; made  them  only  learn  to 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


408 

sing  and  dance,  to  draw  and  design,  to  give  them  rich  silks,  and  other 
fopperies  ; and  his  two  eldest  were  married,  without  his  consent,  to 
young  lads  who  had  nothing  to  settle  on  them.  However,  he  had  one 
son,  whom  the  doctor  sent  to  Westminster  school,  although  he  could 
ill  afford  it.  The  boy  was  there  immediately  taken  notice  of,  upon  ex- 
amination : although  a mere  stranger,  he  was  by  pure  merit  elected  a 
king’s  scholar.  It  is  true  their  maintenance  falls  something  short  : the 
doctor  was  then  so  poor,  that  he  could  not  add  fourteen  pounds,  to  en- 
able the  boy  to  finish  the  year  ; which  if  he  had  done,  he  would  have 
been  removed  to  a higher  class,  and,  in  another  year,  would  have  been 
sped  off  (that  is  the  phrase)  to  a fellowship  in  Oxford  or  Cambridge  : 
but  the  doctor  was  forced  to  recall  him  to  Dublin,  and  had  friends  in 
our  university  to  send  him  there,  where  he  has  been  chosen  of  the 
foundation  ; and,  I think,  has  gotten  an  exhibition,  and  designs  to  stand 
for  a fellowship. 

The  Doctor  had  a good  church  living,  in  the  south  parts  of  Ireland, 
given  him  by  Lord  Carteret  ; who,  being  very  learned  himself,  encou- 
rages it  in  others.  A friend  of  the  Doctor’s  prevailed  on  his  excellency 
to  grant  it.  The  living  was  well  worth  ^150  per  annum.  He  changed 
it  very  soon  for  that  of  D unboy n ; which,  by  the  knavery  of  the  farmers, 
and  power  of  the  gentlemen,  fell  so  very  low,  that  he  could  never  get 
£Zo.  He  then  changed  that  living  for  the  free  school  of  Cavan,  where 
he  might  have  lived  well,  in  so  cheap  a country,  on  £%o  salary  per 
annum,  beside  his  scholars:  but  the  air,  he  said,  was  too  moist  and  un- 
wholesome, and  he  could  not  bear  the  company  of  some  persons  in 
that  neighbourhood.  Upon  this  he  sold  the  school  for  about  £ 400 , 
spent  the  money,  grew  into  disease,  and  died. 

It  would  be  very  honourable,  as  well  as  just,  in  those  many  persons 
of  quality  and  fortune,  who  had  the  advantage  of  being  educated  under  j 
Dr.  Sheridan,  if  they  would  please  to  erect  some  decent  monument 
over  his  body,  in  the  church  where  it  is  deposited. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  SECOND  SOLOMON*  1729. 

HE  became  acquainted  with  a person  distinguished  for  poetical  and 
other  writings,  and  in  an  eminent  station,  who  treated  him  with 
great  kindness  on  all  occasions,  and  he  became  familiar  in  this  person’s 
houset.  In  three  months’  time  Solomon,  without  the  least  provoca 
tion.  writ  a long  poem,  describing  that  person’s  Muse  to  be  dead,  an.- 
making  a funeral  solemnity  with  asses,  owls,  &c.,  and  gave  the  copy  ; 
among  all  his  acquaintance. 

Solomon  became  acquainted  with  a most  deserving  lady,  an  intimate 
friend  of  the  above  person who  entertained  him  also  as  she  would  a 
brother  ; and,  upon  giving  him  a little  good  advice  in  the  most  decent 
manner,  with  relation  to  his  wife,  he  told  her,  “ She  was  like  other 
women,  as  bad  as  she  was  ; and  that  they  were  all  alike.” 


• Dr.  Sheridan, 


t Dean  Swift. 


* Stella. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  SECOND  SOLOMON 


40$ 

Solomon  has  no  ill  design  upon  any  person  but  himself,  and  he  is 
the  greatest  deceiver  of  himself  on  all  occasions. 

His  thoughts  are  sudden,  and  the  most  unreasonable  always  comes 
uppermost ; and  he  constantly  resolves  and  acts  upon  his  tirst  thoughts, 
and  then  asks  advice,  but  never  once  before. 

The  person  above  mentioned,  whom  he  lampooned  in  three  months 
after  their  acquaintanc,  procured  him  a good  preferment  from  the  lord 
lieutenant  ;*  upon  going  down  to  take  possession,  Solomon  preached 
at  Cork,  a sermon  on  King  George’s  birthday,  on  this  text,  “ Suffi- 
cient to  the  day  is  the  evil  thereof.”  Solomon  having  been  famous  for 
a high  tory,  and  suspected  as  a jacofrite,  it  was  a most  difficult  thing  to 
get  anything  for  him  : but  that  person,  being  an  old  triend  of  Lord 
Carteret,  prevailed  against  all  Solomon’s  enemies,  and  got  him  made 
likewise  one  of  his  excellency’s  chaplains.  But,  upon  this  sermon, 
he  was  struck  out  of  the  list,  and  forbid  the  Castle,  until  that 
same  person  brought  him  again  to  the  lieutenant  and  made  them 
friends. 

A fancy  sprung  in  Solomon’s  head,  that  a house  near  Dublin  would 
be  commodious  lor  him  and  his  boarders,  to  lodge  in  on  Saturdays  and 
Sundays  ; immediately,  without  consulting  with  any  creature,  he  takes 
a lease  of  a rotten  house  at  Rath^arnam,  the  worst  air  in  Ireland,  for 
nine  hundred  and  ninety-nine  years,  at  twelve  pounds  a year  ; the  land 
which  was  only  a strip  of  ground,  not  being  worth  twenty  shillings  a 
year.  When  the  same  person  whom  he  lampooned  heard  the  thing,  he 
begged  Solomon  to  get  a clause  to  surrender,  and  at  last  prevailed  to 
have  it  done  alter  twenty-one  years  ; because  it  was  a maaness  to  pay 
eleven  pounds  a year,  for  a thousand  years,  for  a house  that  could  not 
last  twenty.  But  Solomon  made  an  agreement  with  his  landlady,  that 
he  should  be  at  liberty  to  surrender  his  lease  in  seven  years  ; and  if  he 
did  not  do  it  at  that  time,  should  be  obliged  to  keep  it  for  nine  hundred 
and  ninety-nine  years.  In  the  mean  time,  he  expends  about  one  hun- 
dred pounds  on  the  house  and  garden-wall ; and  in  less  than  three 
years,  contracts  such  a hatred  to  the  house,  that  he  lets  it  run  to  ruin  : 
-so  that,  when  the  seven  years  were  expired,  he  must  either  take  it  for 
the  remainder  of  the  nine  hundred  and  ninety-nine  years,  or  be  sued  lor 
waste,  and  lose  all  the  money  he  laid  out:  and  now  he  pays  twelve 
pounds  a year  for  a place  he  never  sees. 

Solomon  has  as  estate  of  about  thirty-five  pounds  per  annum,  in  the 
county  of  Cavan  ; upon  which,  instead  of  ever  receiving  one  penny 
rent,  he  hath  expended  above  thirty  pounds  per  annum  in  buildings  and 
plantations,  which  are  all  gone  to  ruin. 

Solomon  is  under-tenant  to  a bishop’s  lease  ; he  is  bound  by  articles 
to  his  lordship  to  renew  and  pay  a tine,  whenever  the  bishop  renews 
with  his  landlord,  and  to  raise  his  rent  as  the  landlord  shall  raise  it  to 
the  bishop.  Seven  years  expire  : Solomon’s  landlord  demands  a fine, 
which  he  readily  pays  ; then  asks  for  a lease  : the  landlord  says,  “ He 
may  have  it  at  any  time.”  He  never  gets  it.  Another  seven  years 
elapse  : Solomon’s  landlord  cemanos  another  hue.  and  an  additional 
rent  : {Solomon  pays  both,  asks  to  have  his  lease  renewed,  the  steward 

* Lord  Carteret. 


4io 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


answers, M He  will  speak  to  his  master  Seventeen  years  have  elapsed! 
the  landlord  sends  Solomon  word,  “ That  his  lease  is  forfeited,  because 
he  hath  not  renewed  and  paid  his  fines  according  to  articles,”  and  now 
they  are  at  law  upon  this  admirable  case. 

It  is  Solomon’s  great  happiness,  that  when  he  acts  in  the  common 
concerns  of  life  against  common  sense  and  reason,  he  values  himself 
thereupon,  as  if  it  were  the  mark  of  great  genius,  above  little  regards 
or  arts,  and  that  his  thoughts  are  too  exalted  to  descend  into  the  know- 
ledge of  vulgar  management  ; and  you  cannot  make  him  a greater 
compliment  than  by  telling  instances  to  the  company,  before  his 
face,  how  careless  he  was  in  any  affair  that  related  to  his  interest  and 
fortune. 

He  is  extremely  proud  and  captious,  apt  to  resent  as  an  affront  and 
indignity  what  was  never  intended  for  either. 

He  is  allured  as  easily  by  every  new  acquaintance,  especially  among 
women,  as  a child  is  by  a new  play-thing  ; and  is  led  at  will  by  them 
to  suspect  and  quarrel  with  his  best  friends,  of  whom  he  hath  lost  the 
greatest  part,  for  want  of  that  indulgence  which  they  ought  to  allow  for 
his  failings. 

He  is  a generous,  honest,  good-natured  man  ; but  his  perpetual  want 
of  judgment  and  discretion  makes  him  act  as  if  he  were  neither  gene- 
rous, honest,  nor  good-natured. 

The  person  above  mentioned,  whom  he  lampooned,  and  to  whom  he 
owes  preferment,  being  in  the  country  and  out  of  order  ; Solomon  had 
appointed  to  come  for  him  with  a chaise,  and  bring  him  to  town. 
Solomon  sent  him  word  that  he  was  to  set  out  on  Monday,  and  did  ac- 
cordingly, but  to  another  part  of  the  kingdom,  thirty  miles  wide  of  the 
place  appointed,  in  compliment  to  a lady  who  was  going  that  way  ; 
there  stayed,  with  her  and  her  family,  a month  ; then  sent  the  chaise, 
in  the  midst  of  winter,  to  bring  the  said  person  where  Solomon  would 
meet  him,  declaring  he  could  not  venture  himself  for  fear  of  the  frost: 
and,  upon  the  said  person's  refusing  to  go  in  the  chaise  alone,  or  to 
trust  to  Solomon’s  appointment,  and  being  in  ill  health,  Solomon  fell 
into  a formal  quarrel  with  that  person,  and  foully  misrepresented  the 
whole  affair,  to  justify  himself. 

Solomon  had  published  a humorous  ballad,  called  a Bally  spell  in,” 
whither  he  had  gone  to  drink  the  waters,  with  a new  favourite  lady. 
The  ballad  was  in  the  manner  of  Mr.  Gay’s  on  Molly  Mogg,  pretend- 
ing to  contain  all  the  rhymes  of  Ballyspellin.  His  friend,  the  person  so 
often  mentioned,  being  at  a gentleman’s  house  in  the  neighbourhood, 
and  merry  over  Solomon’s  ballad,  they  agreed  to  make  another,  in  dis- 
praise of  Ballyspellin-wells,  which  Solomon  had  celebrated,  and  with 
all  new  rhymes  not  made  use  of  in  Solomon’s.  The  thing  was  done,  and 
all  in  a mere  jest  and  innocent  merriment.  Yet  Solomon  was  prevailed 
upon,  by  the  lady  he  went  with,  to  resent  this  as  an  affront  on  her  and 
himself ; which  he  did  accordingly,  against  all  the  rules  of  reason, 
taste,  good  nature,  judgment,  gratitude,  or  common  manners. 

He  will  invite  six  or  more  people  of  condition  to  dine  with  him  on  a 
certain  day,  some  of  them  living  five  or  six  miles  from  town.  On  the 
day  appointed,  he  will  be  absent,  and  know  nothing  of  the  matter,  ard 


HISTORY  OF  THE  SECOND  SOLOMON 


411 


they  all  go  back  disappointed  ; when  he  is  told  of  this,  he  is  pleased, 
because  it  shows  him  to  be  a genius  and  a man  of  learning. 

Having  lain  many  years  under  the  obloquy  of  a high  Tory  and 
Jacobite,  upon  the  present  queen’s  birthday  he  writ  a song,  to  be  per- 
formed before  the  government  and  those  who  attended  them,  in  praise 
of  the  queen  and  king,  on  the  common  topics  of  her  beauty,  wit,  family, 
love  of  England,  and  all  other  virtues,  wherein  the  king  and  the  royal 
children  were  sharers.  It  was  very  hard  to  avoid  the  common  topics. 
A young  collegian,  who  had  done  the  same  job  the  year  before,  got 
some  reputation  on  account  of  his  wit.  Solomon  would  needs  vie  with 
him,  by  which  he  lost  all  the  esteem  of  his  old  friends  the  Tories,  and 
got  not  the  least  interest  with  the  Whigs,  for  they  are  now  too  strong 
to  want  advocates  of  that  kind  ; and  therefore  one  of  the  lords  justices, 
reading  the  verses  in  some  company,  said  : “ Ah,  Doctor  ! this  shall 
not  do.”  His  name  was  at  length  in  the  title-page  ; and  he  did  this 
without  the  knowledge  or  advice  of  one  living  soul,  as  he  himself  con- 
fesseth. 

His  full  conviction  of  having  acted  wrong  in  an  hundred  instances, 
leaves  him  as  positive  in  the  next  instance  as  if  he  had  never  been  mis- 
taken in  his  life  ; and  if  you  go  to  him  the  next  day,  and  find  him  con- 
vinced in  the  last,  he  hath  another  instance  ready,  wherein  he  is  as 
positive  as  he  was  the  day  before. 


Of  those  who  have  made  great  figures  in  some  particular  action  or 


LEXANDER  the  Great,  after  his  victory  (at  the  Straits  of  Mount 


Taurus),  when  he  entered  the  tent,  where  the  queen  and  the 
princesses  of  Persia  fell  at  his  feet. 

Socrates,  the  whole  last  day  of  his  life,  and  particularly  from  the 
time  he  took  the  poison  until  the  moment  he  expired. 

Cicero,  when  he  was  recalled  from  his  banishment,  the  people 
through  every  place  he  passed  meeting  him  with  shouts  of  joy  and 
congratulation,  and  all  Rome  coming  out  to  receive  him. 

Regulus,  when  he  went  out  of  Rome  attended  by  his  friends  to  the 
gates,  and  returned  to  Carthage  according  to  his  word  of  honour, 
although  he  knew  he  must  be  put  to  a cruel  death  for  advising  the 
Romans  to  pursue  their  war  with  that  Commonwealth. 

Scipio  the  Elder,  when  he  dismissed  a beautiful  captive  lady  pre- 
sented to  him  after  a great  victory,  turning  his  head  aside  to  preserve 
his  own  virtue. 

The  same  Scipio,  when  he  and  Hannibal  met  before  the  battle,  if  the 
fact  be  true. 

Cincinnatus,  when  the  messengers  sent  by  the  senate  to  make  him 
dictator,  found  him  at  the  plough. 


OF  MEAN  AND  GREAT  FIGURES 


MADE  BY  SEVERAL  PERSONS. 


circumstance  of  their  lives , 


4?« 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


Epaminondas,  when  the  Persian  ambassador  came  to  his  house,  ana 

* ■»*  »»  “ “* 

as  he  entered  the  theatre.  hploved  mistress's  head,  on 

Mahomet  the  Great,  when  he  cu  . soldiers,  who  taxed  him 

a sta^e  erected  for  that  purrose,  to  convince  his  soldiers, 

ta  WJ  ££  a„d  „ at  c„d, 

»U  doting 

Marius,  when  the  sold.er  sent  to  kill  him  his  hand. 

with  so  much  awe  and  veneratio  , was  on  fiie,  and  he  lay  down 

- * “■  ***  e,“ 

quitted  their  post. 

Of  those  who  have  made  a mean  contemptible  figure  in  some  action 
Up  tnose  wn  ^ circumstance  of  their  lives. 

Lepidusf when 'he3' was  compelled  to  lay  down  his  share  of  the  tnum 

Richard  II.  of  England,  alter  he  was Sweden  torced  him  to 

^SSg»  SS  — - Ki"* °< 

*.  I—  — - » 

“KSS  mWeSS  -b»  H““ 

Commons  to  continue  hls.^u “}l she  sent  Whitworth  to  Mus- 
'rZiSESi  —ft  tT. ft-  —d  hete  on 
that  prince’s  ambassador.  convicted  of  bribery, 

See  *»*“  hChWaS  aft6r  hlS  °Wn 

disgrace,  to  carry  his  duchess’s  gold  key  t°  th®  qu  ' him  a lash 
w,t%tprieftftft%,:fte*o?nfte  nohife,  - he  hot. 
it  with  patience, 


OF  MEAN  AND  GREAT  FIGURES.  413 

King  Charles  II,  of  England,  when  he  entered  into  the  second  Dutch 
war  ; and  in  many  other  actions  during  his  whole  reign, 

Philip  II.  of  Spain,  after  the  defeat  of  the  Armada. 

The  Emperor  Charles  V.,  when  he  resigned  his  crown,  and  nobody 
would  believe  his  reasons. 

King  Charles  I.  of  England,  when,  in  gallantry  to  his  queen,  he 
thought  to  surprise  her  with  a present  of  a diamond  buckle,  which  he 
pushed  down  her  breast,  and  tore  her  flesh  with  the  tongue ; upon 
which  she  drew  it  out.  and  flung  it  on  the  ground. 

Fairfax,  the  parliament  general,  at  the  time  of  King  Charles's  trial. 

Julius  Caesar,  when  Anthony  offered  to  put  a diadem  on  his  head, 
and  the  people  shouted  for  joy  to  see  him  decline  it;  which  he  never 
offered  to  do,  until  he  saw  their  dislike  in  their  countenances. 

Coriolanus,  when  he  withdrew  his  army  from  Rome  at  the  entreaty 
of  his  mother. 

Hannibal,  at  Antiochus’s  court. 

Beau  Fielding,  at  fifty  years  old,  when,  in  a quarrel  upon  the  stage 
he  was  run  into  his  breast,  which  he  opened  and  showed  to  the  ladies, 
that  he  might  move  their  love  and  pity,  but  they  all  fell  a laughing. 

The  Count  de  Bussy-Rabutin,  when  he  was  recalled  to  court  after 
twenty  years'  banishment  into  the  country,  and  affected  to  make  the 
same  figure  he  did  in  his  youth. 

The  Earl  of  Sunderland  when  he  turned  Papist  in  the  time  of  King 
James  II.  and  underwent  all  the  forms  of  a heretic  converted. 

Pope  Clement  VII.,  when  he  was  taken  prisoner  at  Rome,  by  the 
Emperor  Charles  the  Fifth’s  forces. 

Queen  Mary  of  Scotland,  when  she  suffered  Bothwell  to  ravish  her, 
and  pleaded  that  as  an  excuse  for  marrying  him. 

King  John  of  England,  when  he  gave  up  his  kingdom  to  the  Pope 
to  be  held  as  a fief  to  the  See  of  Rome, 


A TRITICAL  ESSAY  UPON  THE  FACULTIES  OF 
THE  MIND. 

TO  

SIR, — Being  so  great  a lover  of  antiquities,  it  was  reasonable  to  sup- 
pose, you  would  be  very  much  obliged  with  anything  that  was  new.  I 
have  been  of  late  offended  with  many  writers  of  essays  and  moral  dis- 
courses for  running  into  stale  topics  and  threadbare  quotations,  and 
not  handling  their  subject  fully  and  closely,  all  which  errors  I have 
carefully  avoided  in  the  following  essay,  which  I have  proposed  as  a 
pattern  for  young  writers  to  imitate.  The  thoughts  and  observations 
being  entirely  new,  the  quotations  untouched  by  others,  the  subject  oi 
mighty  importance,  and  treated  with  much  order  ana  perspicuity,  it 


4*4 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


has  cost  me  a great  deal  of  time  ; and  I desire  you  will  accept  and  com 
sider  it  as  the  utmost  effort  of  my  genius, 

PHILOSOPHERS  say,  that  man  is  a microcosm,  or  little  world, 
resembling  in  miniature  every  part  of  the  great ; and,  in  mv 
opinion,  the  body  natural  maybe  compared  to  the  body  politic  ; and  if 
this  be  so,  how  can  the  epicurean’s  opinion  be  true,  that  the  universe 
was  formed  by  a fortuitous  concourse  of  atoms,  which  I will  no  more 
believe,  than  that  the  accidental  jumbling  of  the  letters  of  the  alphabet 
could  fall  by  chance  into  a most  ingenious  and  learned  treatise  of 
philosophy.  Risum  tenecitis  amici?  This  false  opinion  must  needs 
create  many  more  : it  is  like  an  error  in  the  first  concoction,  which 
cannot  be  corrected  in  the  second  ; the  foundation  is  weak,  and  what- 
ever superstructure  you  raise  upon  it,  must  of  necessity  fall  to  the 
ground.  Thus  men  are  led  from  one  error  to  another,  until  with  Ixion 
they  embrace  a cloud  instead  of  Juno  ; or  like  the  dog  in  the  fable  lose 
the  substance  in  gaping  at  the  shadow.  For  such  opinions  cannot 
cohere  ; but  like  the  iron  and  clay  in  the  toes  of  Nebuchadnezzar’s 
image,  must  separate  and  break  in  pieces.  I have  read  in  a certain 
author,  that  Alexander  wept  because  he  had  no  more  worlds  to  con- 
quer, which  he  needed  not  have  done,  if  the  fortuitous  concourse  o*  atoms 
could  create  one  ; but  this  is  an  opinion,  fitter  for  that  many-headed 
beast  the  vulgar  to  entertain,  than  for  so  wise  a man  as  Epicurus  ; the 
corrupt  part  of  his  sect  only  borrowed  his  name,  as  the  monkey  did 
the  cat’s  claw  to  draw  the  chestnut  out  of  the  fire. 

However,  the  first  step  to  the  cite  is  to  know  the  disease  ; and 
though  truth  may  be  difficult  to  find,  because,  as  the  philosopher  ob- 
serves, she  lives  in  the  bottom  of  a well,  yet  we  need  not,  like  blind 
men,  grope  in  open  daylight.  I hope  I may  be  allowed,  among  so  many 
far  more  learned  men,  to  offer  my  mite,  since  a stander-by  may  some- 
times, perhaps,  see  more  of  the  game  than  he  that  plays  it.  But  I do 
not  think  a philosopher  obliged  to  account  for  every  phenomenon  in 
nature,  or  drown  himself  with  Aristotle,  for  not  being  able  to  solve  the 
ebbing  and  flowing  of  the  tide,  in  that  fatal  sentence  he  passed  upon 
himself,  Quia  te  non  capio , tu  capies  me . Wherein  he  was  at  once  the 
judge  and  the  criminal,  the  accuser  and  executioner.  Socrates,  on  the 
other  hand,  who  said  he  knew  nothing,  was  pronounced  by  the  oracle 
to  be  the  wisest  man  in  the  world. 

But  to  return  from  this  digression  ; I think  it  as  clear  as  any  de- 
monstration of  Euclid,  that  Nature  does  nothing  in  vain  ; if  we  were 
able  to  dive  into  her  secret  recesses,  we  should  find  that  the  smallest 
blade  of  grass,  or  most  contemptible  weed,  has  its  particular  use  ; but 
she  is  chiefly  admirable  in  her  minutest  compositions,  the  least  and 
most  contemptible  insect  most  discovers  the  art  of  nature,  if  I may  so 
call  it,  though  nature,  which  delights  in  variety,  will  always  triumph 
over  art,  and  as  the  poet  observes, 

“ Naturam  expellas  furca  licet,  usque  recurret.” 

Hor.  Lib.  I.  Epist.  X.  24. 

But  the  various  opinions  of  philosophers  have  scattered  though  tho 


FACULTIES  OF  THE  MIND. 


4*5 


world  as  many  plagues  of  the  mind,  as  Pandora’s  box  did  those  of  the 
body,  only  with  this  difference,  that  they  have  not  left  hope  at  the 
bottom.  And  if  truth  be  not  fled  with  Astraea,  she  is  certainly  as  hidden 
as  the  source  of  the  Nile,  and  can  be  found  only  in  Utopia.  Not  that 
I would  reflect  on  those  wise  sages,  which  would  be  a sort  of  ingrati- 
tude ; and  he  that  calls  a man  ungrateful,  sums  up  all  the  evil  that  a 
man  can  be  guilty  of, 

“ Ingratum  si  dixeris,  omnia  dicis.” 

But,  what  I blame  the  philosophers  for  (though  some  may  think  it  a 
paradox)  is  chiefly  their  pride,  nothing  less  than  an  ipse  dixit , and  you 
must  pin  your  faith  on  their  sleeve.  And  though  Diogenes  lived  in  a 
tub,  there  might  be,  for  aught  I know,  as  much  pride  under  his  rags  as 
in  the  fine-spun  garments  of  the  divine  Plato.  It  is  reported  of  this 
Diogenes,  that  when  Alexander  came  to  see  him,  and  promised  to  give 
him  whatever  he  would  ask,  the  cynic  only  answered,  “ Take  not  from 
me  what  thou  canst  not  give  me,  but  stand  from  between  me  and  the 
light which  was  almost  as  extravagant  as  the  philosopher  that  flung 
his  money  into  the  sea,  with  this  remarkable  saying — 

How  different  was  this  man  from  the  usurer,  who  being  told  his  son 
would  spend  all  he  had  got,  replied,  “ He  cannot  take  more  pleasure  in 
spending,  than  I did  in  getting  it.”  These  men  could  see  the  faults  of 
each  other,  but  not  their  own  ; those  they  flung  into  the  bag  behind  ; 
non  videmus  id  mastic ce  quod  in  ter  go  est.  I may,  perhaps,  be  censured 
for  my  free  opinions  by  those  carping  Momuses  whom  authors  worship, 
as  the  Indians  do  the  devil,  for  fear.  They  will  endeavour  to  give  my 
reputation  as  many  wounds  as  the  men  in  the  almanac  ; but  I value  it 
not,  and  perhaps  like  flies,  they  may  buzz  so  often  about  the  candle, 
till  they  burn  their  wings.  They  must  pardon  me  if  I venture  to  give 
them  this  advice,  not  to  rail  at  what  they  cannot  understand  : it  does 
but  discover  that  self-tormenting  passion  of  envy,  than  which  the  greatest 
tyrant  never  invented  a more  cruel  torment : 

“ Invidia  Siculi  non  invenere  Tyranni 
Tormentum  majus — ” Hor.  Lib.  I.  Epist.  II.  58. 

I must  be  so  bold  to  tell  my  critics  and  witlings,  that  they  can  no 
more  judge  of  this  than  a man  that  is  born  blind  can  have  any  true 
idea  of  colours.  I have  always  observed,  that  your  empty  vessels 
sound  loudest  : I value  their  lashes  as  little  as  the  sea  did  those  of 
Xerxes,  when  he  whipped  it.  The  utmost  favour  a man  can  expect 
from  them,  is  that  which  Polyphemus  promised  Ulysses,  that  he  would 
devour  him  the  last ; they  think  to  subdue  a writer,  as  Caesar  did  his 
enemy,  with  a Veni%  vidi , vici.  I confess  I value  the  opinion  of  the 

judicious  few,  a Rymer,  a Dennis,  or  a W k ; but  for  the  rest,  to 

give  my  judgment  at  once,  I think  the  long  dispute  among  fche  philoso- 
phers about  a vacuum  may  be  determined  in  the  affirmative,  that  it  is 
to  be  found  in  a critic’s  head.  They  are  at  best  but  the  drones  of  the 
learned  world,  who  devour  the  honey  and  will  not  work  themselves,  and 
a writer  need  n r more  regard  them  than  the  moon  does  the  barking  of 
a little  senseless  cur.  For,  in  spite  of  their  terrible  roaring,  you  may, 
with  half  an  eye,  discover  the  ass  under  the  lion’s  skim 


4i6 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


But  to  return  to  our  discourse  : Demosthenes  being  ashed  what  was 
the  first  part  of  an  orator,  replied,  Action  : what  was  the  second,  Action  ; 
what  was  the  third,  Action  ; and  so  on  ad  infinitum . This  may  be  true 
in  oratory,  but  contemplation  in  other  things  exceeds  action.  And  there- 
fore a wise  man  is  never  less  alone  than  when  he  is  alone,  Nunquam 
minus  solus , quam  cum  solus . 

And  Archimedes,  the  famous  mathematician,  was  so  intent  upon  hi? 
problems,  that  he  never  minded  the  soidiers  who  came  to  kill  him. 
Therefore,  not  to  detract  from  the  just  praise  which  belongs  to  orators, 
they  ought  to  consider  that  nature,  which  gave  us  two  eyes  to  see,  and 
^wo  ears  to  hear,  has  given  us  but  one  tongue  to  speak  ; wherein,  how- 
ever, some  do  so  abound,  that  the  virtuosi,  who  have  been  so  long  in 
search  for  the  perpetual  motion,  may  infallibly  find  it  there. 

Some  men  admire  republics,  because  orators  flourish  there  most,  and 
are  the  greatest  enemies  ot  tyranny;  but  my  opinion  is,  tnat  one  tyrant 
is  better  than  a hundreu.  Besides,  these  orators  inflame  the  people, 
whose  anger  is  really  but  a short  fit  of  madness, 

“ Ira  furor  brevis  est.” 

Hor.  Lib.  I.  Epist.  II.  62. 

After  which,  laws  are  like  cobwebs,  which  may  catch  small  flies,  but 
let  wasps  and  hornets  break  through.  But  in  oratory  the  greatest  art  is 
to  hide  art. 

But  this  must  be  the  work  of  time,  we  must  lay  hold  on  all  oppor- 
tunities, and  let  slip  no  occasion  ; else  we  shall  be  forced  to  weave 
Penelope's  web,  unravel  in  the  night  what  we  spun  in  the  day.  And 
therefore  I have  observed,  that  Time  is  painted  with  a lock  before,  and 
bald  behind,  signifying  thereby,  that  we  must  take  time  (as  we  say)  by 
the  forelock,  for  when  it  is  once  past  there  is  no  recalling  it. 

The  mind  of  man  is  at  first  (if  you  will  pardon  the  expression)  like  a 
tabula  rasa , or  like  wax,  whicn,  while  it  is  soft,  is  capable  of  any  im- 
pression till  time  has  hardened  it.  And  at  length  death,  that  grim 
tyrant,  stops  us  in  the  midst  of  our  career.  The  greatest  conquerors 
have  at  last  been  conquered  by  death,  which  spares  none,  from  the 
sceptre  to  the  spade  : Mors  omnibus  communis . 

All  rivers  go  to  the  sea,  but  none  return  from  it.  Xerxes  wept  when 
he  beheld  his  army,  to  consider  that  in  less  than  a hundred  years,  they 
would  be  all  dead.  Anacreon  was  choked  with  a grapestone  ; and  violent 
joy  kills  as  well  as  violent  grief.  There  is  nothing  in  this  world  con-  ' 
stant,  but  inconstancy  ; yet  Plato  thought,  that  if  Virtue  would  appear 
to  the  world  in  her  own  native  dress,  all  men  would  be  enamoured  with 
her.  But  now,  since  interest  governs  the  world,  and  men  neglect  the 
golden  mean,  Jupiter  himself,  if  he  came  to  the  earth,  would  be  des- 
pised, unless  it  were,  as  he  did  to  Danae,  in  a golden  shower ; for  men 
now-a-days  worship  the  rising  sun,  and  not  the  setting : 

• Donee  eris  felix  multos  numerabis  amicos. 

Thus  have  I,  in  obedience  to  your  commands,  ventured  to  expose 
myself  to  censure,  in  this  critical  age.  Whether  I have  done  rigtit  to 
my  subject,  must  he  left  to  the  judgment  of  my  learned  reader  ; how- 
ever, I cannot  but  hope,  that  my  attempting  of  it,  may  be  encourage- 
ment for  some  able  pen,  to  perform  it  with  more  success. 


MEDITATION  UPON  A BROOMSTICIC. 


417 


A 

MEDITATION  UPON  A BROOMSTICK, 

ACCORDING  TO  THE  STYLE  AND  MANNER  OF  THE  HONOURAELE 
ROBERT  BOYLE'S  MEDITATIONS.  * 

In  the  “Posthumous  Works  of  the  Author  of  Hudibras,”  1759,  voll  i.  p.  404. 
is  a satirical  imitation  of  Boyle’s  style,  under  the  title  of  “ An  Occasional 
Reflection  on  Dr.  Carleton’s  feeling  a Dog’s  Pulse  at  Gresham  College,  by 
R.  B.  Esq.,  to  Lyndamore  a performance  in  which  there  appeared  so 
striking  a resemblance  to  the  present  one,  as  to  induce  the  Editor  of  those 
volumes  to  imagine  Swift  must  have  either  seen  or  heard  of  this  piece  by  his 
witty  predecessor.  But,  as  few  writers  are  so  little  liable  to  the  charge  of 
plagiarism  as  the  Dean,  it  may  not  be  improper  to  set  down  what  the  above* 
mentioned  Editor  has  said  upon  the  subject:  “It  is  a great  pity  but  Mr. 
Boyle’s  merit,  which,  it  must  be  owned,  was  very  great  both  in  his  learned  and 
moral  capacity,  had  pleaded  his  excuse  for  any  little  defects  in  his  manner  of 
Writing ; but,  as  my  Lord  Orrery  observes,  the  sword  of  Wit,  like  the  scythe 
of  Time,  cuts  down  fiiend  and  foe,  and  attacks  every  object  that  accidentally 
lies  in  its  way.”  However,  injustice  to  the  wit  of  our  Satirist,  we  must  ac- 
knowledge that  he  has  hit  upon  the  weak  side  of  Boyle’s  character  as  an 
Author,  since  his  greatest  admirers  must  confess  that  his  style  is  rather  too 
copious,  diffusive,  and  circumstantial,  and  that  his  reasoning  and  reflections  are 
sometimes  too  puerile  and  trifling.  Whoever  will  take  the  pains  to  examine 
his  writings  with  this  view,  will  find  that  Butler  has  very  archly  imitated  him, 
both  in  the  flimsy  long-winded  turn  of  the  sentences,  and  in  the  too  pompous 
manner  of  moralizing  upon  every  occasion  that  offers. 

“ It  is  something  very  singular  that  Dean  Swift  should  have  attempted  the 
Game  thing,  in  the  very  same  manner  too,  in  his  ‘ Meditation  upon  a Broom- 
stick.' Butler  and  Swift  were  indeed  geniuses  pretty  much  of  the  same  turn, 
and  might  possibly  be  led  by  that  into  the  same  vein  of  thinking  and  writing ; 
but  I think  it  more  probable  that  Swift  took  the  hint  from  having  either  seen 
or  heard  of  this  performance  of  Butler’s.  What  led  me  into  this  conjecture  i*s 
the  certain  information  I have  received  that  these  manuscripts  were  communi- 
cated to  Bishop  Atterbury,  whose  well-known  intimacy  with  Swift  would  give 
him  opportunities  of  mentioning  the  nature  and  subjects  of  them.” — Nichols. 


A MEDITATION  UPON  A BROOMSTICK. 

? ' V ' V " 

THIS  single  stick,  which  you  now  behold  ingloriously  lying  in  that 
neglected  corner,  I once  knew  in  a flourishing  state  in  a forest : 
it  was  full  of  sap,  full  of  leaves,  and  full  of  boughs  : but  now,  in  vain 
does  the  busy  art  of  man  pretend  to  vie  with  nature,  by  tying  that 
withered  bundle  of  twigs  to  its  sapless  trunk  ; it  is  now,  at  best,  but 
the  reverse  of  what  it  was,  a tree  turned  upside  down,  the  branches  on 

27 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS . 


41S 

the  earth,  and  the  root  in  the  air ; it  is  now  handled  by  every  dirty 
wench,  condemned  to  do  her  drudgery,  and  by  a capricious  kind  of  fate, 
destined  to  make  other  things  clean,  and  be  nasty  itself  : at  length, 
worn  to  the  stumps  in  the  service  of  the  maids,  it  is  either  thrown  out 
of  doors,  or  condemned  to  the  last  iSe,  of  kindling  a fire.  When  I be- 
held this,  I sighed,  and  said  within  myself,  Surely  man  is  a broom- 
stick / Nature  sent  him  into  the  world  strong  and  lusty,  in  a thriving 
condition,  wearing  his  own  hair  on  his  head,  the  proper  branches  of 
this  reasoning  vegetable,  until  the  axe  of  intemperance  has  lopped  off 
his  green  boughs,  and  left  him  a withered  trunk  : he  then  flies  to  art, 
and  puts  on  a periwig,  valuing  himself  upon  an  unnatural  bundle  of 
hairs  (all  covered  with  powder)  that  never  grew  on  his  head  ; but  now, 
should  this  our  broomstick  pretend  to  enter  the  scene,  proud  of  those 
birchen  spoils  it  never  bore,  and  all  covered  with  dust,  though  the  sweep- 
ings of  the  finest  lady’s  chamber,  we  should  be  apt  to  ridicule  and 
despise  its  vanity.  Partial  judges  that  we  are  of  our  own  excellencies, 
and  other  men’s  defaults  ! 

But  a broomstick,  perhaps  you  will  say,  is  an  emblem  of  a tree  stand- 
ing on  its  head  ; and  pray  what  is  man,  but  a topsy-turvy  creature,  his 
animal  faculties  perpetually  mounted  on  his  rational,  his  head  where 
his  heels  should  be,  grovelling  on  the  earth  ! and  yet,  with  all  his  faults, 
he  sets  up  to  be  a universal  reformer  and  corrector  of  abuses,  a re-  1 
mover  of  grievances,  rakes  into  every  slut’s  corner  of  nature,  bringing 
hidden  corruption  to  the  light,  and  raises  a mighty  dust  where  there  was 
none  before  ; sharing  deeply  all  the  while  in  the  very  same  pollutions 
he  pretends  to  sweep  away  : his  last  days  are  spent  in  slavery  to  \ 
women,  and  generally  the  least  deserving  ; till  worn  out  to  the  stumps, 
like  his  brother  besom,  he  is  either  kicked  out  of  doors,  or  made  use  of 
to  kindle  flames  for  others  to  warm  themselves  by.  i 


THE  BEGGAR’S  OPERA. 

Ipse  per  omnes. 

Ibit  personas,  et  turbam  reddet  in  unam, 

THE  players  having  now  almost  done  with  the  comedy  called  the 
Beggar’s  Opera  for  the  season,  it  may  be  no  unpleasant  specula- 
tion to  reflect  a little  upon  this  dramatic  piece,  so  singular  in  the  sub- 
ject and  manner,  so  much  an  original,  and  which  has  frequently  given 
so  very  agreeable  an  entertainment. 

Although  an  evil  taste  be  very  apt  to  prevail,  both  here  and  in  Lon- 
don ; yet  there  is  a point,  which  whoever  can  rightly  touch,  will  never 
fail  of  pleasing  a very  great  majority  ; so  great,  that  the  dislikers  out 
of  dulness  or  affectation  will  be  silent,  and  forced  to  fall  in  with  the 
herd  : the  point  I mean  is,  what  we  call  humour  ; which,  in  its  perfect 
tion,  is  allowed  to  be  much  preferable  to  wit ; if  it  be  not  rather  he 
most  useful  and  agreeable  species  of  it. 

I agree  with  Sir  William  Temple,  that  the  word  is  peculiar  to  ouf 
English  tongue ; but  1 differ  from  him  in  the  opinion,  that  the  thing 


THE  BEGGAR'S  OPERA . 


419 


itself  is  peculiar  to  the  English  nation,  because  the  contrary  may  be 
found  in  many  Spanish,  Italian,  and  French  productions  : and  particu- 
larly, whoever  has  a tast  for  true  humour,  will  find  a hundred  instances 
of  it  in  those  volumes  printed  in  France  under  the  name  of  Le  Theatre 
Italien  ; to  say  nothing  of  Rabelais,  Cervantes,  and  many  others. 

Now  I take  the  comedy,  or  farce,  (or  whatever  name  the  critics  will 
allow  it)  called  the  Beggar’s  Opera,  to  excel  in  this  article  of  humour  ; 
and  upon  that  merit  to  have  met  with  such  prodigious  success,  both 
he$*e  and  in  England. 

As  to  poetry,  eloquence,  and  music,  which  are  said  to  have  most 
power  over  the  minds  of  men,  it  is  certain  that  very  few  have  a taste 
or  judgment  of  the  excellencies  of  the  two  former  ; and  if  a man  suc- 
ceed in  either,  it  is  upon  the  authority  of  those  few  judges  that  lend 
their  taste  to  the  bulk  of  readers,  who  have  none  of  their  own.  I am 
told  there  are  as  few  good  judges  in  music,  and  that  among  those  who 
crowd  the  operas,  nine  in  ten  go  thither  merely  out  of  curiosity,  fashion, 
or  affectation. 

But  a taste  for  humour  is  in  some  manner  fixed  to  the  very  nature  of 
man,  and  generally  obvious  to  the  vulgar  : except  upon  subjects  too  re- 
fined, and  superior  to  their  understanding. 

And,  as  this  taste  of  humour  is  purely  natural,  so  is  humour  itself ; 
neither  is  it  a talent  confined  to  men  of  wit  or  learning  ; for  we  observe 
it  sometimes  among  common  servants,  and  the  meanest  of  the  people, 
while  the  very  owners  are  often  ignorant  of  the  gift  they  possess. 

I know  very  well  that  this  happy  talent  is  contemptibly  treated  by 
critics,  under  the  name  of  low  humour,  or  low  comedy  ; but  I know 
likewise  that  the  Spaniards  and  Italians,  who  are  allowed  to  have  the 
most  wit  of  any  nation  in  Europe,  do  most  excel  in  it,  and  do  most 
esteem  it. 

By  what  disposition  of  the  mind,  what  influence  of  the  stars,  or  what 
situation  of  the  climate,  this  endowment  is  bestowed  upon  mankind, 
may  be  a question  fit  for  philosophers  to  discuss.  It  is  certainly  the 
best  ingredient  toward  that  kind  of  satire  which  is  most  useful,  and 
gives  the  least  offence  ; which,  instead  of  lashing,  laughs  men  out  of 
their  follies  an4  vices;  and  is  the  character  that  gives  Horace  the  pre- 
ference to  Juvenal. 

And,  although  some  things  are  too  serious,  solemn,  or  sacred  to  be 
turned  into  ridicule,  yet  the  abuses  of  them  are  certainly  not  ; since  it 
is  allowed  that  corruptions  in  religion,  politics,  and  law  may  be  proper 
topics  for  this  kind  of  satire. 

There  are  two  ends  that  men  propose  in  writing  satire  ; one  of  them 
less  noble  than  the  other;  as  regarding  nothing  farther  than  the  private 
satisfaction  and  pleasure  of  the  writer  ; but  without  any  view  toward  per- 
sonal malice  : the  other  is  a public  spirit,  prompting  men  of  genius  and 
virtue  to  mend  the  world  as  far  as  they  are  able.  And  as  both  these 
ends  are  innocent,  so  the  latter  is  highly  commendable.  With  regard 
to  the  former,  I demand,  whether  I have  not  as  good  a title  to  laugh, 
as  men  have  to  be  ridiculous  ; and  to  expose  vice,  as  another  has  to  be 
vicious.  If  I ridicule  the  follies  and  corruptions  of  a court,  a ministry, 
or  a senate,  are  they  not  amply  paid  by  pensions,  titles,  and  power, 
while  1 expect  and  desire  no  other  reward  than  that  of  laughing  with  a 

27—2 


420 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


few  friends  in  a corner  ? yet,  if  those  who  take  offence  think  me  fn  the 
wrong,  I am  ready  to  change  the  scene  with  them  whenever  they 
please.  . # ^ 

But,  if  my  design  be  to  make  mankind  better,  then  I think  it  is  my 
duty,  at  least,  I am  sure  it  is  the  interest  of  those  very  courts  and 
ministers  whose  follies  or  vices  I ridicule,  to  reward  me  for  my  good 
intention : for,  if  it  be  reckoned  a high  point  of  wisdom  to  get  the 
laughers  on  our  side,  it  is  much  more  easy,  as  well  as  wise,  to  get  those 
on  our  side  who  can  make  millions  laugh  when  they  please. 

My  reason  for  mentioning  courts  and  ministers  (whom  I never  think 
on  but  with  the  most  profound  veneration),  is,  because  an  opinion  ob- 
tains, that  in  the  Beggar’s  Opera  there  appears  to  be  some  reflection 
upon  courtiers  and  statesmen,  whereof  I am  by  no  means  a judge. 

It  is  true  indeed,  that  Mr.  Gay,  the  author  of  this  piece,  has  been 
somewhat  singular  in  the  course  of  his  fortunes  ; for  it  has  happened, 
that  after  fourteen  years  attending  the  court,  with  a large  stock  of  real 
merit  a modest  and  agreeable  conversation,  a hundred  promises,  and 
five  hundred  friends,  he  has  failed  of  preferment  ; and  upon  a very 
weighty  reason.  He  lay  under  the  suspicion  of  having  written  a libel,  or 
lampoon,  against  a great  minister.*  It  is  true,  that  great  minister  was 
demonstratively  convinced,  and  publicly  owned  his  conviction,  that  Mr. 
Gay  was  not  the  author  ; but  having  lain  under  the  suspicion,  it  seemed 
very  just  that  he  should  suffer  the  punishment ; because,  in  this  most  re- 
formed age,  the  virtues  of  a prime  minister  are  no  more  to  be  suspected 
than  the  chastity  of  Caesar’s  wife. 

It  must  be  allowed,  that  the  Beggar’s  Opera  is  not  the  first  of  Mr.  I 
Gay’s  works  wherein  he  has  been  faulty  with  regard  to  courtiers  and 
statesmen.  For,  to  omit  his  other  pieces,  even  in  his  fables,  published 
within  two  years  past,  and  dedicated  to  the  Duke  of  Cumberland,  for' 
which  he  was  promised  a reward,  he  has  been  thought  somewhat  too 
bold  upon  the  courtiers.  And  although  it  be  highly  probable  he  meant 
’ only  the  courtiers  of  former  times,  yet  he  acted  unwarily,  by  not  con- 
sidering that  the  malignity  of  some  people  might  misinterpret  what  he 
said  to  the  disadvantage  of  present  persons  and  affairs. 

But  I have  now  done  with  Mr.  Gay,  as  a politician,  and  shall  con- 
sider him  henceforward  only  as  author  of  the  Beggar’s  Opera,  wherein 
he  has,  by  a turn  of  humour  entirely  new,  placed  vices  of  all  kinds  in 
the  strongest  and  most  odious  light ; and  thereby  done  eminent  ser- 
vice both  to  religion  and  morality.  This  appears  from  the  unp?ral- 
leled  success  he  has  met  with  ; all  ranks,  parties,  and  denominations 
of  men,  either  crowding  to  see  his  opera,  or  reading  it  with  delight  in 
their  closets  ; even  ministers  of  state,  whom  he  is  thought  to  have  most 
offended  (next  to  those  whom  the  actors  represent),  appearing  fre- 
quently at  the  theatre,  from  a consciousness  of  their  own  innocence, 
and  to  convince  the  world  how  unjust  a parallel,  malice,  envy,  and  dis- 
affection to  the  government  have  made. 

I am  assured  that  several  worthy  clergymen  in  this  city  went 
privately  to  see  the  Beggar’s  Opera  represented  ; and  that  the  fleering 

• Sir  Robert  Walpole. 


THE  BEGGARS  OPERA . 


421 


coxcombs  in  the  pit  amused  themselves  with  making  discoveries,  and 
spreading  the  names  of  those  gentlemen  round  the  audience. 

I shall  not  pretend  to  vindicate  a clergyman,  who  would  appear 
openly  in  his  habit  at  the  theatre,  with  such  a vicious  crew  as  might 
probably  stand  round  him.  at  such  comedies  and  profane  tragedies  as 
are  often  represented.  Besides,  I know  very  well,  that  persons  of  their 
function  are  bound  to  avoid  the  appearance  of  evil,  or  of  giving  cause 
of  offence.  But  when  the  Lords  Chancellors,  who  are  keepers  of  the 
king’s  conscience;  when  the  judges  of  the  land,  whose  title  is  reverend  ; 
when  ladies,  who  are  bound  by  the  rules  of  their  sex  to  the  strictest 
decency,  appear  in  the  theatre  without  censure,  I cannot  understand 
why  a young  clergyman,  who  comes  concealed  out  of  curiosity  to  see  an 
innocent  and  moral  play,  should  be  so  highly  condemned  ; nor  do  I 
much  approve  the  rigour  of  a great  prelate,  who  said  “ he  hoped  none 
of  his  clergy  were  there.”  I am  glad  to  hear  there  are  no  weightier 
objections  against  that  reverend  body  planted  in  this  city,  and  1 wish 
there  never  may.  But  I should  be  very  sorry  that  any  of  them  shoulfl 
be  so  weak  as  to  imitate  a court  chaplain*  in  England,  who  preached 
against  the  Beggar’s  Opera,  which  will  probably  do  more  good  than  a 
thousand  sermons  of  so  stupid,  so  judicious,  and  so  prostitute  a divine. 

In  this  happy  performance  of  Mr,  Gay  s,  all  the  characters  are  just, 
and  none  of  them  carried  beyond  nature,  or  hardly  beyond  practice. 
It  discovers  the  whole  system  of  that  commonwealth,  or  that  imperium 
in  imperio  of  iniquity  established  among  us,  by  which  neither  our 
lives  nor  our  properties  are  secure,  either  in  the  highways  or  in  public 
assemblies,  or  even  in  our  own  houses.  It  shows  the  miserable  lives, 
and  the  constant  fate,  of  those  abandoned  wretches  ; for  how  little 
they  sell  their  lives  and  souls,  betrayed  by  their  whores,  their  comrades, 
and  the  receivers  and  purchasers  of  those  thefts  and  robberies.  This 
comedy  contains  likewise  a satire,  which,  without  inquiring  whether  it 
affects  the  present  age,  may  possibly  be  useful  in  times  to  come  ; I 
mean,  where  the  author  takes  the  occasion  of  comparing  the  common 
robbers  of  the  public,  and  their  several  stratagems  of  betraying,  under- 
mining, and  hanging  each  other,  to  the  several  arts  of  politicians  in 
times  of  corruption. 

This  comedy  likewise  exposes,  with  great  justice,  that  unnatural 
taste  for  ftalian  music  among  us,  which  is  wholly  unsuitable  to  our 
northern  climate,  and  the  genius  of  the  people,  whereby  we  are  over- 
run with  Italian  effeminacy  and  Italian  nonsense.  An  old  gentleman 
said  to  me,  that  many  years  ago,  when  the  practice  of  an  unnatural 
vice  grew  frequent  in  London,  and  many  were  prosecuted  for  it,  he 
was  sure  it  would  be  the  forerunner  of  Italian  operas  and  singers  ; and 
then  we  should  want  nothing  but  stabbing  or  poisoning  to  make  us  per- 
fect Italians. 

* This  court  chaplain  was  Dr.  Thomas  Herring,  then  preacher  at  Lincoln’s 
Inn.  He  was  made  Rector  of  Bletchingley  in  1731,  and  the  same  year  Dean  of 
R.ochester ; was  raised  to  the  See  of  Bangor  in  1737,  translated  to  York  in 
1743,  and  to  Canterbury  in  1747.  He  died  in  1757,  at  the  age  of  64.  See  a 
letter  of  Dr.  Herring  to  Mr.  Duncombe  (who  had  written  two  letters  in  justifi- 
cation of  the  sermon  against  the  Beggar’s  Opera)  in  preface  to  “ Archbishop 
iierring’s  Seven  Sermons  on  Public  Occasions,  1763." — Nichols. 


422 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


Upon  the  whole,  I deliver  my  judgment,  that  nothing  but  servile 
attachment  to  a party,  affectation  of  singularity,  lamentable  dulness, 
mistaken  zeal,  or  studied  hypocrisy,  can  have  the  least  reasonable 
objection  against  this  excellent  moral  performance  of  the  celebrated 
Mr.  Gay. 


HINTS  TOWARDS  AN 
ESSAY  ON  CONVERSATION. 

I HAVE  observed  few  obvious  subjects  to  have  been  so  seldom,  or 
at  least  so  slightly  handled  as  this  ; and  indeed  I know  few  so 
difficult  to  be  treated  as  it  ought,  nor  yet  upon  which  there  seems  so 
^nuch  to  be  said. 

Most  things  pursued  by  men  for  the  happiness  of  public  or  private 
life,  our  wit  or  folly  have  so  refined,  that  they  seldom  subsist  but  in 
idea  ; a true  friend,  a good  marriage,  a perfect  form  of  government, 
with  some  others,  require  so  many  ingredients,  so  good  in  their  several 
kinds,  and  so  much  niceness  in  mixing  them,  that  for  some  thousands 
of  years  men  have  despaired  of  reducing  their  schemes  to  perfection  ; 
but  in  conversation  it  is,  or  might  be  otherwise  ; for  here  we  are  only 
to  avoid  a multitude  of  errors,  wThich,  although  a matter  of  some  diffi- 
culty, may  be  in  every  man’s  power,  for  want  of  which  it  remains  as 
mere  an  idea  as  the  other.  Therefore  it  seems  to  me,  that  the  truest 
way  to  understand  conversation  is  to  know  the  faults  and  errors  to 
which  it  is  subject,  and  from  thence  every  man  to  form  maxims  to  him- 
self whereby  it  may  be  regulated,  because  it  requires  few  talents  to 
which  most  men  are  not  born,  or  at  least  may  not  acquire,  without  any 
great  genius  or  study.  For,  nature  has  left  every  man  a capacity  of 
being  agreeable,  though  not  of  shining  in  company  ; and  there  are  a 
hundred  men  sufficiently  qualified  for  both,  who,  by  a very  few  faults, 
that  they  might  correct  in  half  an  hour,  are  not  so  much  as  tolerable. 

I was  prompted  to  write  my  thoughts  upon  this  subject  by  mere  in- 
dignation, to  reflect  that  so  useful  and  innocent  a pleasure,  so  fitted  for 
every  period  and  condition  of  life,  and  so  much  in  all  men’s  power,  j 
should  be  so  much  neglected  and  abused. 

And  in  this  discourse  it  will  be  necessary  to  note  those  errors  that 
are  obvious,  as  well  as  others  which  are  seldomer  observed,  since  there 
are  few  so  obvious,  or  acknowledged,  into  which  most  men,  some  time 
or  other,  are  not  apt  to  run. 

For  instance,  nothing  is  more  generally  exploded  than  the  folly  of 
talking  too  much  ; yet  I rarely  remember  to  have  seen  five  people  to 
gether,  where  some  one  among  them  has  not  been  predominant  in  that 
kind,  to  the  great  constraint  and  disgust  of  all  the  rest.  But  among 
such  as  deal  in  multitudes  of  words,  none  are  comparable  to  the  sober 
deliberate  talker,  who  proceeds  with  much  thought  and  caution,  makes 
his  preface,  branches  out  into  several  digressions,  finds  a hint  tnat  puts 
him  in  mind  of  another  story,  which  he  promises  to  tell  you  when  tins 


ESS  A Y ON  CONVERSATION 


4*3 


is  done ; come9  back  regularly  to  his  subject,  cannot  readily  call  to 
mind  some  person's  name,  holding  his  head,  complains  of  his  memory, 
the  whole  company  all  this  while  in  suspense,  at  length  says  it  is  no 
matter,  and  so  goes  on.  And,  to  crown  the  business,  it  perhaps  proves 
at  last  a story  the  company  has  heard  fifty  times  before  ; or,  at  best, 
some  insipid  adventure  of  the  relater. 

Another  general  fault  in  conversation  is  that  of  those  who  affect  to 
talk  of  themselves  : some,  without  any  ceremony,  will  run  over  the 
history  of  their  lives  ; will  relate  the  annals  of  their  diseases,  with  the 
several  symptoms  and  circumstances  of  them  ; will  enumerate  the 
hardships  and  injustice  they  have  suffered  in  court,  in  parliament,  in 
love,  or  in  law.  Others  are  more  dextrous,  and  with  great  art  will  lie 
on  the  watch  to  hook  in  their  own  praise  ; they  will  call  a witness  to 
remember  they  always  foretold  what  would  happen  in  such  a case,  but 
none  would  believe  them  ; they  advised  such  a man  from  the  be- 
ginning, and  told  him  the  consequences,  just  as  they  happened ; but 
he  would  have  his  own  way.  Others  make  a vanity  of  telling  their 
faults  ; they  are  the  strangest  men  in  the  world  ; they  cannot  dissemble  ; 
they  own  it  is  a folly  ; they  have  lost  abundance  of  advantages  by  it ; 
but  if  you  would  give  them  the  world  they  cannot  help  it ; there  is 
something  in  their  nature  that  abhors  insincerity  and  constraint ; with 
many  other  insufferable  topics  of  the  same  altitude. 

Of  such  mighty  importance  every  man  is  to  himself,  and  ready  to 
think  he  is  so  to  others ; without  once  making  this  easy  and  obvious 
reflection,  that  his  affairs  can  have  no  more  weight  with  other  men 
than  theirs  have  with  him  ; and  how  little  that  is  he  is  sensible  enough. 

Where  company  has  met,  I often  have  observed  two  persons  dis- 
cover by  some  accident  that  they  were  bred  together  at  the  same 
school  or  university ; after  which  the  rest  are  condemned  to  silence, 
and  to  listen  while  these  two  are  refreshing  each  other’s  memory  with 
the  arch  tricks  and  passages  of  themselves  and  their  comrades. 

I know  a great  officer  of  the  army  who  will  sit  for  some  time  with  a 
supercilious  and  impatient  silence,  full  of  anger  and  contempt  for  those 
who  are  talking ; at  length,  of  a sudden,  demand  audience,  decide  the 
matter  in  a short  dogmatical  way,  then  withdraw  within  himself  again, 
and  vouchsafe  to  talk  no  more  until  his  spirits  circulate  again  to  the 
same  point. 

There  are  some  faults  in  conversation,  which  none  are  so  subject  to 
as  the  men  of  wit,  nor  ever  so  much  as  when  they  are  with  each  other. 
If  they  have  opened  their  mouths  without  endeavouring  to  say  a witty 
thing,  they  think  it  is  so  many  words  lost : it  is  a torment  to  the  hearers 
as  much  as  to  themselves  to  see  them  upon  the  rack  for  invention,  and 
in  perpetual  constraint,  with  so  little  success.  They  must  do  some- 
thing extraordinary  in  order  to  acquit  themselves,  and  answer  their 
character,  else  the  standers-by  may  be  disappointed,  and  be  apt  to 
think  them  only  like  the  rest  of  mortals.  1 have  known  two  men  of 
wit  industriously  brought  together  in  order  to  entertain  the  company, 
where  they  have  made  a very  ridiculous  figure,  and  provided  all  the 
mirth  at  their  own  expense. 

I know  a man  of  wit,  who  is  never  easy  but  where  he  can  be  allowed 
to  dictate  and  preside ; he  neither  expects  to  be  informed  or  enter* 


424 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


tained,  but  to  display  his  own  talents.  His  business  Is  to  be  good 
company,  and  not  good  conversation  ; and  therefore  he  chooses  to 
frequent  those  who  are  content  to  listen,  and  profess  themselves  his 
admirers.  And  indeed  the  worst  conversation  I ever  remember  to  have 
heard  in  my  life,  was  that  at  Will's  Coffee-house,  where  the  wits  (as 
they  were  called)  used  formerly  to  assemble  ; that  is  to  say,  five  or  six 
men  who  had  writ  plays,  or  at  least  prologues,  or  had  share  in  a miscel- 
lany, came  thither,  and  entertained  one  another  with  their  trifling 
composures  in  so  important  an  air,  as  if  they  had  been  the  noblest 
efforts  of  human  nature,  or  that  the  fate  of  kingdoms  depended  on 
them ; and  they  were  usually  attended  with  an  humble  audience  of 
young  students  from  the  inns  of  court,  or  the  universities  ; who,  at  due 
distance,  listened  to  these  oracles,  and  returned  home  with  great  con- 
tempt for  their  law  and  philosophy,  their  heads  filled  with  trash,  under 
the  name  of  politeness,  criticism,  and  belles  lettres. 

By  these  means,  the  poets,  for  many  years  past,  were  all  overrun 
with  pedantry.  For,  as  I take  it,  the  word  is  not  properly  used  ; 
because  pedantry  is  the  too  frequent  or  unseasonable  obtruding  our 
own  knowledge  in  common  discourse,  and  placing  too  great  a value 
upon  it ; by  which  definition  men  of  the  court  or  the  army  may  be  as 
guilty  of  pedantry  as  a philosopher  or  a divine  ; and  it  is  the  same  vice 
in  women  when  they  are  over-copious  upon  the  subject  of  their  petti- 
coats, or  their  fans,  or  their  china.  For  which  reason,  although  it  be 
a piece  of  prudence,  as  well  as  good  manners,  to  put  men  upon  talking 
on  subjects  they  are  best  versed  in,  yet  that  is  a liberty  a wise  man 
could  hardly  take ; because,  beside  the  imputation  of  pedantry,  it  is 
what  he  would  never  improve  by. 

The  great  town  is  usually  provided  with  some  player,  mimic,  or 
buffoon,  who  has  a general  reception  at  the  good  tables ; familiar  and 
domestic  with  persons  of  the  first  quality,  and  usually  sent  for  at  every 
meeting  to  divert  the  company  : against  which  I have  no  objection. 
You  go  there  as  to  a farce  or  a puppet-show ; your  business  is  only  to 
laugh  in  season,  either  out  of  inclination  or  civility,  while  this  merry 
companion  is  acting  his  part.  It  is  a business  he  has  undertaken,  and 
we  are  to  suppose  he  is  paid  for  his  day's  work.  I only  quarrel  when 
in  select  and  private  meetings,  where  men  of  wit  and  learning  are  in- 
vited to  pass  an  evening,  this  jester  should  be  admitted  to  run  over 
his  circle  of  tricks,  and  make  the  whole  company  unfit  for  any  other 
conversation,  beside  the  indignity  of  comoqnding  men's  talents  at  so 
shameful  a rate. 

Raillery  is  the  finest  part  of  conversation  ; but,  as  it  our  usual  cus- 
tom to  counterfeit  and  adulterate  whatever  is  too  dear  for  us,  so  we 
have  done  with  this,  and  turned  it  all  into  what  is  generally  called 
repartee,  or  being  smart : just  as  when  an  expensive  fashion  comes  up, 
those  who  are  not  able  to  reach  it  content  themselves  with  some  paltry 
imitation.  It  now  passes  for  raillery  to  run  a man  down  in  discourse, 
to  put  him  out  of  countenance,  and  make  him  ridiculous  ; sometimes 
to  expose  the  defects  of  his  person  or  understanding  ; on  all  which 
occasions  he  is  obliged  not  to  be  angry,  to  avoid  the  imputation  of  not 
being  able  to  take  a jest.  It  is  admirable  to  observe  one  who  is 
dextrous  at  this  art  singling  out  a weak  adversary,  getting  the  laugh  oa 


ESS  A Y ON  CON  VERSA  TION. 


«*5 


his  side,  and  then  carrying  all  before  him.  The  French,  from  whence 
we  borrow  the  word,  have  a quite  different  idea  of  the  thing,  and  so 
had  we  in  the  politer  age  of  our  fathers.  Raillery  was  to  say  some- 
thing that  at  first  appeared  a reproach  or  reflection,  but,  by  some  turn 
of  wit  unexpected  and  surprising,  ended  always  in  a compliment,  and 
to  the  advantage  of  the  person  it  was  addressed  to.  And  surely  one  of 
the  best  rules  in  conversation  is  never  to  say  a thing  which  any  of  the 
company  can  reasonably  wish  we  had  rather  left  unsaid  : nor  can  there 
anything  be  well  more  contrary  to  the  ends  for  which  people  meet 
together  than  to  part  unsatisfied  with  each  other  or  themselves. 

There  are  two  faults  in  conversation  which  appear  very  different,  yet  arise 
from  the  same  root,  and  are  equally  blamable  : I mean  an  impatience 
to  interrupt  others  ; and  the  uneasiness  of  being  interrupted  ourselves. 
The  two  chief  ends  of  conversation  are  to  entertain  and  improve  those 
we  are  among,  or  to  receive  those  benefits  ourselves  ; which,  whoever 
will  consider,  cannot  easily  run  into  either  of  those  two  errors  ; because 
when  any  man  speaks  in  company  it  is  to  be  supposed  he  does  it  for 
his  hearer’s  sake,  and  not  his  own  ; so  that  common  discretion  will 
teach  us  not  to  force  their  attention  if  they  are  not  willing  to  lend  it ; 
nor,  on  the  other  side,  to  interrupt  him  who  is  in  possession,  because 
that  is  in  the  grossest  manner  to  give  the  preference  to  our  own  good 
sense. 

•There  are  some  people  whose  good  manners  will  not  suffer  them  to 
interrupt  you  ; but,  what  is  almost  as  bad,  will  discover  abundance  of 
impatience,  and  lie  upon  the  watch  until  you  have  done,  because  they 
have  started  something  in  their  own  thoughts  which  they  long  to  be 
delivered  of.  Meantime,  they  are  so  far  from  regarding  what  passes, 
that  their  imaginations  are  wholly  turned  upon  what  they  have  in 
reserve,  for  fear  it  should  slip  out  of  their  memory ; and  thus  they 
confine  their  invention,  which  might  otherwise  range  over  a hundred 
things  full  as  good,  and  that  might  be  much  more  naturally  intro- 
duced. 

There  is  a sort  of  rude  familiarity,  which  some  people  by  practising 
among  their  intimates  have  introduced  into  their  general  conversation, 
and  would  have  it  pass  for  innocent  freedom  or  humour  ; which  is  a 
dangerous  experiment  in  our  northern  climate,  where  all  the  little  de- 
corum and  politeness  we  have  are  purely  forced  by  art,  and  are  so 
ready  to  lapse  into  barbarity.  This,  among  the  Romans,  was  tne 
raillery  of  slaves,  of  which  we  have  many  instances  in  Plautus.  It 
seems  to  have  been  introduced  among  us  by  Cromwell,  who,  by  pre- 
ferring the  scum  of  the  people,  made  it  a court-entertainment,  of  which 
I have  heard  many  particulars  ; and  considering  all  things  were  turned 
upside  down  it  was  reasonable  and  judicious,  although  it  was  a piece 
of  policy  found  out  to  ridicule  a point  of  honour  in  the  other  extreme, 
when  the  smallest  word  misplaced  among  gentlemen  ended  in  a 
duel. 

There  are  some  men  excellent  at  telling  a story,  and  provided  with  a 
plentiful  stock  of  them,  which  they  can  draw  out  upon  occasion  in  all 
companies  ; and,  considering  how  low  conversation  runs  now  among 
us,  it  is  not  altogether  a contemptible  talent  ; however,  it  is  subject  to 
two  unavoidable  defects,  frequent  repetition,  and  being  soon  exhausted. 


426 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


so  that  whoever  values  this  gift  in  himself,  has  need  of  a good  memory; 
and  ought  frequently  to  shift  his  company,  that  he  may  not  discover 
the  weakness  of  his  fund  ; for  those  who  are  thus  endowed  have 
seldom  any  other  revenue,  but  live  upon  the  main  stock. 

Great  speakers  in  public  are  seldom  agreeable  in  private  conversa- 
tion, whether  their  faculty  be  natural,  or  acquired  by  practice  and  often 
venturing.  Natural  elocution,  although  it  may  seem  a paradox,  usually 
springs  from  a barrenness  of  invention  and  of  words  ; by  which  men 
who  have  only  one  stock  of  notions  upon  every  subject,  and  one  set  of 
phrases  to  express  them  in,  they  swim  upon  the  superficies,  and  offer 
themselves  on  every  occasion  ; therefore,  men  of  much  learning,  and 
who  know  the  compass  of  a language,  are  generally  the  worst  talkers 
on  a sudden,  until  much  practice  has  inured  and  emboldened  them,  be- 
cause they  are  confounded  with  plenty  of  matter,  variety  of  notions, 
and  of  words,  w'hich  they  cannot  readily  choose,  but  are  perplexed  and 
entangled  by  too  great  choice  ; which  is  no  disadvantage  in  private 
conversation  ; where,  on  the  other  side,  the  talent  of  haranguing,  is  of 
all  others  most  insupportable. 

Nothing  has  spoiled  men  more  for  conversation,  than  the  character 
of  being  wits  ; to  support  which,  they  never  fail  of  encouraging  a num- 
ber of  followers  and  admirers,  who  list  themselves  in  their  service, 
wherein  they  find  their  accounts  on  both  sides  by  pleasing  their  mutual 
vanity.  This  has  given  the  former  such  an  air  of  superiority,  and 
made  the  latter  so  pragmatical,  that  neither  of  them  are  well  to  be  en- 
dured. I say  nothing  here  of  the  itch  of  dispute  and  contradiction, 
telling  of  lies,  or  of  those  who  are  troubled  with  the  disease  called  the 
wandering  of  the  thoughts,  so  that  they  are  never  present  in  mind  at 
what  passes  in  discourse  : for  whoever  labours  under  any  of  these  pos- 
sessions is  as  unfit  for  conversation  as  a madman  in  Bedlam. 

I think  I have  gone  over  most  of  the  errors  in  conversation  that 
have  fallen  under  my  notice  or  memory,  except  some  that  are  merely 
personal,  and  others  too  gross  to  need  exploding,  stch  as  lewd  or  pro- 
fane talk  : but  I pretend  only  to  treat  the  errors  of  conversation  in 
general,  and  not  the  several  subjects  of  discourse,  which  would  be  in- 
finite. Thus  we  see  how  human  nature  is  most  debased  by  the  abuse 
of  that  faculty  which  is  held  the  great  distinction  between  then  and 
brutes  ; and  how  little  advantage  we- make  of  that,  which  might  be  the 
greatest,  the  most  lasting,  and  the  most  innocent,  as  well  as  useful 
pleasure  of  life  : in  default  of  which,  we  are  forced  to  take  up  with  those 
poor  amusements  of  dress  and  visiting,  or  the  more  pernicious  ones  of 
play,  drink,  and  vicious  amours ; whereby  the  nobility  and  gentry  of 
both  sexes  are  entirely  corrupted  both  in  body  and  mind,  and  have  lost 
all  notions  of  love,  honour,  friendship,  generosity  ; which  under  the 
name  of  fopperies,  have  been  for  some  time  laughed  out  of  doors. 

This  degeneracy  of  conversation,  with  the  pernicious  consequences 
thereof  upon  our  humours  and  dispositions,  has  been  owing,  among 
other  causes,  to  the  custom  arisen,  for  some  time  past,  of  excluding 
women  from  any  share  in  our  society,  farther  than  in  parties  at  play, 
or  dancing,  or  in  the  pursuit  of  an  amour.  I take  the  highest  period  of 
politeness  in  England  (and  it  is  of  the  same  date  in  France,)  to  nave 
been  the  peaceable  part  of  King  Charles  the  First's  reign  ; and  iroin 


ESSAY  ON  CONVERSATION. 


427 


what  we  read  of  those  times,  as  well  as  from  the  accounts  I have 
formerly  met  with  from  some  who  lived  in  that  court,  the  methods  then 
used  for  raising  and  cultivating  conversation  were  altogether  different 
from  ours  : several  ladies,  whom  we  find  celebrated  by  the  poets  of 
that  age,  had  assemblies  at  their  houses,  where  persons  of  the  best 
understanding,  and  of  both  sexes,  met  to  pass  the  evenings  in  discours- 
ing upon  whatever  agreeable  subjects  were  occasion ally^started  ; and 
although  we  are  apt  to  ridicule  the  sublime  platonic  notions  they  had. 
or  personated,  in  love  and  friendship,  I conceive  their  refinements 
were  grounded  upon  reason,  and  that  a little  grain  of  the  romance  is  no 
ill  ingredient  to  preserve  and  exalt  the  dignity  of  human  nature,  with- 
out which  it  is  apt  to  degenerate  into  everything  that  is  sordid,  vicious, 
and  low.  If  there  were  no  other  use  in  the  conversation  of  ladies,  it  is 
sufficient  that  it  would  lay  a restraint  upon  those  odious  topics  of  im- 
modesty  and  indecencies  into  which  the  rudeness  of  our  northern 
genius  is  so  apt  to  fall.  And,  therefore,  it  is  observable  in  those  sprightly 
gentlemen  about  the  town,  who  are  so  very  dextrous  at  entertaining  a 
vizard  mask  in  the  park  or  the  playhouse,  that,  in  the  company  of  ladies 
of  virtue  and  honour,  they  are  silent  and  disconcerted,  and  out  of  their 
element. 

There  are  some  people  who  think  they  sufficiently  acquit  themselves, 
and  entertain  their  company,  with  relating  facts  of  no  consequence,  nor 
at  all  out  of  the  road  of  such  common  incidents  as  happen  every  day  ; 
and  this  I have  observed  more  frequently  among  the  Scots  than  any 
other  nation,  who  are  very  careful  not  to  omit  the  minutest  circum- 
stances of  time  or  piace  ; which  kind  of  discourse,  if  it  w^ere  not  a little 
relieved  by  the  uncouth  terms  and  phrases,  as  well  as  accent  and 
gesture,  peculiar  to  that  country,  would  be  hardly  tolerable.  It  is  not  a 
fault  in  company  to  talk  much  ; but  to  continue  it  long  is  certainly  one ; 
for,  if  the  majority  of  those  who  are  got  together  be  naturally  silent  or 
cautious,  the  conversation  will  flag,  unless  it  be  often  renewed  by  one 
among  them,  who  a n start  new  subjects,  provided  he  does  not  dwell 
upon  them,  that  leave  room  for  answers  and  replies. 


A LETTER  OF  ADVICE  TO  A YOUNG  POET. 

TOGETHER  WITH  A PROPOSAL  FOR  THE  ENCOURAGEMENT  OF 
POETRY  IN  IRELAND. 

•4  Sic  honor  et  nomen  divinis  vatibus  atque 
Carminibus  vemt.” 

Hor.  de  Art.  Poet.  400. 

SIR,  Dec.  1,1720. 

AS  I have  always  professed  a friendship  for  you,  and  have  therefore 
been  more  inquisitive  into  your  conduct  and  studies  than  is 
usually  agreeable  to  young  men  ; so  I must  own  I am  not  a little 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


42S 

pleased  to  find,  by  your  last  account,  that  you  have  entirely  bent  yotif 
thoughts  to  English  poetry,  with  design  to  make  it  your  profession  and 
business.  Two  reasons  incline  me  to  encourage  you  in  this  study,  one, 
the  narrowness  of  your  present  circumstances  ; the  other,  the  great  use 
of  poetry  to  mankind  and  society,  and  in  every  employment  of  life. 
Upon  these  views,  I cannot  but  commend  your  wise  resolution  to  with- 
draw so  early  from  other  unprofitable  and  severe  studies,  and  betake 
yourself  to  that,  which,  if  you  have  good  luck,  will  advance  your  fortune 
and  make  you  an  ornament  to  your  friends  and  your  country.  It  may 
be  your  justification,  and  farther  encouragement,  to  consider,  that 
history,  ancient  or  modern,  cannot  furnish  you  an  instance  of  one  per- 
son, eminent  in  any  station,  who  was  not  in  some  measure  versed  in 
poetry,  or  at  least  a well-wisher  to  the  professors  of  it ; neither  would  I 
despair  to  prove,  if  legally  called  thereto,  that  it  is  impossible  to  be  a 
good  soldier,  divine,  or  lawyer,  or  even  so  much  as  an  eminent  bell- 
man, or  ballad-singer,  without  some  taste  of  poetry,  and  a competent 
skill  in  versification  ; but  I say  the  less  of  this,  because  the  renowned 
Sir  P.  Sidney  has  exhausted  the  subject  before  me,  in  hisJDefence  of 
Poesie,  on  which  I shall  make  no  other  remark  but  this,  that  he  argues 
there  as  if  he  really  believed  himself. 

For  my  own  part,  having  never  made  one  verse  since  I was  at  school, 
where  I suffered  too  much  for  my  blunders  in  poetry  to  have  any  love  to 
it  ever  since,  I am  not  able,  from  any  experience  of  my  own,  to  give 
you  those  instructions  you  desire  ; neither  will  I declare  (for  I love  to 
conceal  my  passions)  how  much  I lament  my  neglect  of  poetry  in  those 
periods  of  my  life  which  were  properest  for  improvements  in  that  orna- 
mental  part  of  learning ; besides,  my  age  and  infirmities  might  well 
excuse  me  to  you,  as  being  unqualified  to  be  your  writing-master,  with 
spectacles  on,  and  a shaking  hand.  However,  that  I may  not  be  alto- 
gether wanting  to  you  in  an  affair  of  so  much  importance  to  your  credit 
and  happiness,  I shall  here  give  you  some  scattered  thoughts  upon  the 
subject,  such  as  I have  gathered  by  reading  and  observation. 

There  is  a certain  little  instrument,  the  first  of  those  in  use  with 
scholars,  and  the  meanest,  considering  the  materials  of  it,  whether  it 
be  a joint  of  wheaten  straw  (the  old  Arcadian  pipe)  or  just  three  inches 
of  slender  wire,  or  a stripped  feather,  or  a corking  pin.  Furthermore, 
this  same  diminutive  tool,  for  the  posture  of  it,  usually  reclines  its  head 
on  the  thumb  of  the  right  hand,  sustains  the  foremost  finger  upon  its 
breast,  and  is  itself  supported  by  the  second.  This  is  commonly  known 
by  the  name  of  a fescue  ; I shall  here  therefore  condescend  to  be  this 
little  elementary  guide,  and  point  out  some  particulars,  which  may  be 
of  use  to  you  in  your  hornbook  of  poetry. 

In  the  first  place,  I am  not  yet  convinced,  that  it  is  at  all  necessary 
for  a modern  poet  to -believe  in  God,  or  have  any  serious  sense  of 
religion;  and  in  this  article  you  must  give  me  leave  to  suspect  your 
capacity  : because,  religion  being  what  your  mother  taught  you,  you  will 
hardly  find  it  possible,  at  least  not  easy,  all  at  once  to  get  over  those 
early  prejudices,  so  far  as  to  think  it  better  to  be  a great  wit  than  a good 
Christian,  though  herein  the  general  practice  is  against  you;  so  that  if, 
upon  inquiry,  you  find  in  yourself  any  such  soitnesses,  owing  to  the 
nature  of  your  education,  my  advice  is,  that  you  forthwith  lay  down 


ADVICE  TO  A YOVNG  POET. 


429 


vonr  oen,  as  having  no  farther  business  with  it  in  the  way  of  poetry  ; 
unless  you  will  be  content  to  pass  for  an  insipid,  or  will  submit  to  be 
hooted  at  by  your  fraternity,  or  can  disguise  your  religion,  as  well-bred 
men  do  their  learning  in  complaisance  to  company. 

For,  poetry,  as  it  has  been  managed  for  some  years  past,  by  such  as 
make  a business  of  it  (and  of  such  only  I speak  here,  for  I do  not  call 
him  a poet  that  writes  for  his  diversion,  any  more  than  that  gentleman 
a fiddler  who  amuses  himself  with  a violin),  I say,  our  poetry  of  late  has 
been  altogether  disengaged  from  the  narrow  notions  of  virtue  and  piety, 
because  it  has  been  found,  by  experience  of  our  professors,  that  the 
smallest  quantity  of  religion,  like  a single  drop  of  malt  liquor  in  claret, 
will  muddy  and  discompose  the  brightest  poetical  genius. 

Religion  supposes  heaven  and  hell,  the  Word  of  God, and  sacraments, 
and  twenty  other  circumstances,  which,  taken  seriously,  are  a wonderful 
check  to  wit  and  humour,  and  such  as  a true  poet  cannot  possibly  give 
into,  with  a saving  to  his  poetical  license  ; but  yet  it  is  necessary  for 
him,  that  others  should  believe  those  things  seriously,  that  his  wit  may 
be  exercised  on  their  wisdom  for  so  doing  ; for  though  a wit  need  not 
have  religion,  religion  is  necessary  to  a wit,  as  an  instrument  is  to  the 
TianHYbat  plays  upon  it  ; and  for  this,  the  moderns  plead  the  example 
of  their  great  idol  Lucretius,  who  had  not  been  by  half  so  eminent  a 
poet  (as  he  truly  was)  but  that  he  stood  tiptoe  on  religion.  Re ligio  ft e di- 
bus subject a,  and,  by  that  rising  ground  had  the  advantage  of  all  the 
poets  of  his  own  or  following  times  who  were  not  mounted  on  the  same 
pedestal. 

Besides,  it  is  further  to  be  observed,  that  Petronius,  another  of  their 
favourites,  speaking  of  the  qualifications  of  a good  poet,  insists  chiefly 
on  the  liber  sftiritus ; by  which  I have  been  ignorant  enough  hereto- 
fore to  suppose  he  meant,  a good  invention  or  great  compass  of  thought, 
or  a sprightly  imagination  : but  I have  learned  a better  construction, 
from  the  opinions  and  practice  of  the  moderns  ; and,  taking  it  literally 
for  a free  spirit,  i.  e.  a spirit,  or  mind,  free  or  disengaged  from  all  pre- 
judices concerning  God,  religion,  and  another  world,  it  is  to  me  a plain 
account  why  our  present  set  of  poets  are,  and  hold  themselves  obliged 
to  be,  freethinkers. 

But  although  I cannot  recommend  religion  upon  the  practice  of  some 
of  our  most  eminent  English  poets,  yet  I can  justly  advise  you,  from 
their  example,  to  be  conversant  in  the  Scriptures,  and,  if  possible,  to 
make  yourself  entirely  master  of  them  : in  which,  however,  I intend 
nothing  less  than  imposing  upon  you  a task  of  piety.  Far  be  it  from 
me  to  desire  you  to  believe  them,  or  lay  any  great  stress  upon  their 
authority  ; in  that  you  may  do  as  you  think  fit ; but  to  read  them  as  a 
piece  of  necessary  furniture  for  a wit  and  a poet ; which  is  a very 
different  view  from  that  of  a Christian.  For  I have  made  it  my  obser- 
vation, that  the  greatest  wits  have  been  the  best  textuaries  : our  modern 
poets  are  all  to  a man  almost  as  well  read  in  the  Scriptures  as  some 
of  our  divines,  and  often  abound  more  with  the  phrase.  They  have 
read  them  historically,  critically,  musically,  comically,  poetically,  and 
every  other  way  except  religiously,  and  have  found  their  account 
in  doing  so.  For  the  Scriptures  are  undoubtedly  a fund  of  wit,  and  a 
subject  for  wit  You  may,  according  to  the  modern  practice,  be  witty 


43& 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


upon  tliem,  or  out  of  them  ; and,  to  speak  the  truth,  but  for  them,  1 

know  not  what  our  playwrights  would  do  for  images,  allusions,  simili- 
tudes, examples,  or  even  language  itself.  Shut  up  the  Sacred  Books, 
and  I would  be  bound  our  wit  would  run  down  like  an  alarum,  or  fall 
as  the  stocks  did,  and  ruin  half  the  poets  in  these  kingdoms.  And  if 
that  were  the  case,  how  would  most  of  that  tribe  (all,  I think,  but  the 
immortal  Addison,  who  made  a better  use  of  his  Bible,  and  a few 
more)  who  dealt  so  freely  in  that  fund,  rejoice  that  they  had  drawn  out 
in  time,  and  left  the  present  generation  of  poets  to  be  the  bubbles. 

But  here  I must  enter  one  caution,  and  desire  you  to  take  notice, 
that  in  this  advice  of  reading  the  Scriptures,  I had  not  the  least  thought 
concerning  your  qualification  that  way  for  poetical  orders  ; which  I 
mention  because  I find  a notion  of  that  kind  advanced  by  one  of  our 
English  poets  ; and  is,  I suppose,  maintained  by  the  rest.  He  says  t® 
Spenser,  in  a pretended  vision, 

u With  hands  laid  on,  ordain  me  fit 

For  the  great  cure  and  ministry  of  wit.” 

Which  passage  is,  in  my  opinion,  a notable  allusion  to  the  Scriptures ; 
and  making  but  reasonable  allowances  for  the  small  circumstance  of 
profaneness,  bordering  close  upon  blasphemy,  is  inimitably  fine  ; beside 
some  useful  discoveries  made  in  it,  as,  that  there  are  bishops  in  poetry, 
that  these  bishops  must  ordain  young  poets,  and  with  laying  on  hands  ; 
and  that  poetry  is  a cure  of  souls  ; and,  consequently  speaking,  those 
who  have  such  cures  ought  to  be  poets,  and  too  often  are  so  : and 
indeed,  as  of  old,  poets  and  priests  were  one  and  the  same  function, 
the  alliance  of  those  ministerial  offices  is  to  this  day  happily  maintained 
in  the  same  persons  ; and  this  I take  to  be  the  only  justifiable  reason 
for  that  appellation  which  they  so  much  affect,  I mean  the  modest 
title  of  divine  poets.  However,  having  never  been  present  at  the 
ceremony  of  ordaining  to  the  priesthood  of  poetry,  I own  I have  no 
notion  of  the  thing,  and  shall  say  the  less  of  it  here. 

The  Scriptures  then  being  generally  both  the  fountain  and  subject  of 
modern  wit,  I could  do  no  less  than  give  them  the  preference  in  your 
reading.  After  a thorough  acquaintance  with  them,  I would  advise  you 
to  turn  your  thoughts  to  human  literature,  which  yet  I say  more  in 
compliance  with  vulgar  opinions,  than  according  to  my  own  senti- 
ments. 

For,  indeed,  nothing  has  surprised  me  more  than  to  see  the  pre- 
judices of  mankind  as  to  this  matter  of  human  learning,  who  have 
generally  thought  it  is  necessary  to  be  a good  scholar  in  order  to  be  a 
good  poet ; than  which  nothing  is  falser  in  fact,  or  more  contrary  to 
practice  and  experience.  Neither  will  I dispute  the  matter  if  any  man 
will  undertake  to  show  me  one  professed  poet  now  in  being,  who  is  any- 
thing of  what  may  be  justly  called  a scholar ; or  is  the  worse  poet  for 
that,  but  perhaps  the  better,  for  being  so  little  encumbered  with  the 
pedantry  of  learning  ; it  is  true  the  contrary  was  the  opinion  of  our 
forefathers,  which  we  of  this  age  have  devotion  enough  to  receive  from 
them  on  their  own  terms!  and  unexamined,  but  not  sense  enough 


ADVICE  TO  A YOUNG  POET.  431 

to  perceive  it  was  a gross  mistake  in  them.  So  Horace  has  told 

us ; — 


u Scribendi  recte  sapere  est  et  principium  et  fons, 

Rem  tibi  Socraticse  poterunt  ostendere  chartse.” 

Hor.  de  Art.  Poet,  309. 

Bpt,  to  see  the  different  casts  of  men’s  heads,  some,  not  inferior  to 
that  poet  in  understanding  (if  you  will  take  their  own  word  for  it),  do 
see  no  consequence  in  this  rule,  and  are  not  ashamed  to  declare  them- 
selves of  a contrary  opinion.  Do  not  many  men  write  well  in  common 
account,  who  have  nothing  of  that  principle?  Many  are  too  wise  to  be 
poets,  and  others  too  much  poets  to  be  wise.  Must  a man,  forsooth, 
be"1ra~Tess  than  a philosopher  to  be  a poet,  when  it  is  plain  that  some 
of  the  greatest  idiots  of  the  age  are  our  prettiest  performers  that  way  ? 
And  for  this  I appeal  to  the  judgment  and  observation  of  mankind. 

--Sir  Philip  Sidney’s  notable  remark  upon  this  nation  may  not  be  im- 
proper to  mention  here.  He  says,  “In  our  neighbour  country,  Ireland, 
where  true  learning  goes  very  bare,  yet  are  their  poets  held  in  devout 
reverence  which  shows,  that  learning  is  no  way  necessary  either  to 
the  making  of  a poet,  or  judging  of  him.  And  farther,  to  see  the  fate 
oftBmgs, ' notwith  standing  our  learning  here  is  as  bare  as  ever,  yet  are 
our  poets  not  held,  as  formerly,  in  devout  reverence  ; but  are,  perhaps, 
the  most  contemptible  race  of  mortals  now  in  this  kingdom,  which  is 
no  less  to  be  wondered  at  than  lamented. 

Some  of  the  old  philosophers  were  poets,  as,  according  to  the  fore- 
mentioned  author,  Socrates  and  Plato  were  : which,  however,  is  what 
I did  not  know  before  ; but  that  does  not  say  that  all  poets  are,  or  that 
any  need  be,  philosophers,  otherwise  than  as  those  are  so  called  who 
are  a little  out  at  the  elbows.  In  which  sense  the  great  Shakespeare 
might  have  been  a philosopher  ; but  was  no  scholar,  yet  was  an  ex- 
cellent poet.  Neither  do  I think  a late  most  judicious  critic  so  much 
mistaken,  as  others  do,  in  advancing  this  opinion,  that  “ Shakespeare 
had  been  a worse  poet  b&d  he  been  a better  scholar  and  Sir  W. 
Davenant  is  another  instance  in  the  same  kind.  Nor  must  it  be  for- 
gotten that  Plato  was  an  avowed  enemy  to  poets  ; which  is,  perhaps, 
the  reason  why  poets  have  been  always  at  enmity  with  his  profession  ; 
and  have  rejected  all  learning  and  philosophy,  for  the  sake  of  that  one 
philosopher.  As  I take  the  matter,  neither  philosophy,  nor  any  part 
of  learning,  is  more  necessary  to  poetry  (which,  if  you  will  believe  the 
same  author,  is  “ the  sum  of  all  learning”)  than  to  know  the  theory  of 
light,  and  the  several  proportions  and  diversifications  of  it  in  particular 
colours,  is  to  a good  painter. 

Whereas,  therefore,  a certain  author,  called  Petronius  Arbiter,  going 
upon  the  same  mistake,  has  confidently  declared,  that  one  ingredient 
oi  a good  poet,  is  “ mens  ingenti  liter  arum  Jlumine  inundata /*  I do 
on  the  contrary  declare,  that  this  his  assertion  (to  speak  of  it  in  the 
softest  terms)  is  no  better  than  an  invidious  and  unhandsome  reflection 
on  all  the  gentlemen  poets  of  these  times  ; for  with  his  good  leave, 
much  less  than  a flood,  or  inundation,  will  serve  the  turn  ; and,  to  my 
certain  knowledge,  some  of  our  greatest  wits  in  your  poetical  way,  have 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


43* 

not  as  much  real  learning  as  would  cover  a sixpence  in  the  bottom  of  a 
basin  ; nor  do  I think  the  worse  of  them  ; for,  to  speak  my  private 
opinion,  I am  for  every  man’s  working  upon  his  own  materials,  and 
producing  only  what  he  can  find  within  himself,  which  is  commonly  a 
better' stock  than  the  owner  knows  it  to  be.  I think  flowers  of  wit 
ought  to  spring,  as  those  in  a garden  do,  from  their  own  root  and  stem, 
without  foreign  assistance.  I would  have  a man’s  wit  rather  like  a 
fountain,  that  feeds  itself  invisibly,  than  a river,  that  is  supplied  by 
several  streams  from  abroad. 

Or,  if  it  be  necessary,  as  the  case  is  with  some  barren  wits,  to  take 
in  the  thoughts  of  others  in  order  to  draw  forth  their  own,  as  dry  pumps 
will  not  play  till  water  is  thrown  into  them  ; in  that  necessity  I would 
recommend  some  of  the  approved  standard  authors  of  antiquity  fot 
your  perusal,  as  a poet  and  a wit ; because,  maggots  being  what  you 
look  for,  as  monkeys  do  for  vermin  in  their  keepers’  heads,  you  will  find 
they  abound  in  good  old  authors,  as  in  rich  old  cheese,  not  in  the  new  ; 
and  for  that  reason  you  must  have  the  classics,  especially  the  most 
worm-eaten  of  them,  often  in  your  hands. 

But  with  this  caution,  that  you  are  not  to  use  those  ancients  as  un- 
lucky lads  do  their  old  fathers,  and  make  no  conscience  of  picking 
their  pockets  and  pillaging  them.  Your  business  is  not  to  steal  from 
them,  but  to  improve  upon  them,  and  make  their  sentiments  your  own  ; 
„which  is  an  effect  of  great  judgment,  and,  though  difficult,  yet  very 
possible,  without  the  scurvy  imputation  of  filching  ; for  I humbly  con- 
ceive, though  I light  my  candle  at  my  neighbour’s  fire,  that  does  not 
alter  the  property,  or  make  the  wick,  the  wax,  or  the  flame,  or  the  whole 
candle,  less  my  own. 

Possibly  you  may  think  it  a very  severe  task,  to  arrive  at  a com- 
petent knowledge  of  so  many  of  the  ancients  as  excel  in  their  way ; 
and  indeed  it  would  be  really  so,  but  for  the  short  and  easy  method 
lately  found  out  of  abstracts,  abridgments,  summaries,  &c.,  which  are 
admirable  expedients  for  being  very  learned  with  little  or  no  reading ; 
and  have  the  same  use  with  burning-glasses,  to  collect  the  diffused 
rays  of  wit  and  learning  in  authors,  and  make  them  point  with  warmth 
and  quickness  upon  the  reader’s  imagination.  And  to  this  is  nearly 
related  that  other  modern  device  of  consulting  indexes,  which  is  to 
read  books  hebraically,  and  begin  where  others  usually  end.  And  this 
is  a compendious  way  of  coming  to  an  acquaintance  with  authors^Jfor 
authors  are  to  be  used  like  lobsters  : you  must  loeflcfoT  tffe  best  meat  in 
the  tails,  and  lay  the  bodies  back  again  in  the  dish.  Your  cunningest 
thieves  (and- what  else  are  readers,  who  only  read  to  borrow,  i.e.,  t<* 
steal)  use  to  cut  off  the  portmanteau  from  behind,  without  staying  to 
dive  into  the  pockets  of  the  owner.  Lastly,  you  are  taught  thus  much 
in  the  very  elements  of  philosophy  ; for  one  of  the  finest  rules  in  logic 
is,  Finis  est  primus  in  intentione . 

The  learned  world  is  therefore  most  highly  indebted  to  a late  pain- 
ful and  judicious  editor  of  the  classics,  who  has  laboured  in  that  new 
Way  with  exceeding  felicity.  Every  author,  by  his  management,  sweats 
under  himself,  being  overloaded  with  his  own  index,  and  carries,  like  a 
north-country  pedlar,  all  his  substance  and  furniture  upon  his  back, 
and  with  as  great  variety  of  trifles.  To  him  let  all  young  students 


ADVICE  TO  A YOUNG  POET. 


433 


make  their  compliments  for  so  much  time  and  pains  saved  in  the  pur- 
suit  of  useful  knowledge ; for  whoever  shortens  a road  is  a benefactor 
to  the  public,  and  to  every  particular  person  who  has  occasion  to  travel 
Hhart  way . 

But  to  proceed.  I have  lamented  nothing  more  in  my  time,  than 
the  disuse  of  some  ingenious  little  plays,  in  fashion  with  young  folks 
when  I was  a boy,  and  to  which  the  great  facility  of  that  age  above 
ours  in  composing,  was  certainly  owing  ; and  if  anything  has  brought 
a damp  upon  the  versification  of  these  times,  we  have  no  farther  than 
this  to  go  for  the  cause  of  it.  Now,  could  these  sports  be  happily 
revived,  I am  of  opinion  your  wisest  course  would  be  to  apply  your 
thoughts  to  them,  and  never  fail  to  make  a party  when  you  can,  in 
those  profitable  diversions.  For  example,  crambo  is  of  extraordinary 
use  to  good  rhyming,  and  rhyming  is  what  I have  ever  accounted  the 
very  essential  of  a good  poet  : and  in  that  notion  I am  not  singular  : 
for  the  aforesaid  Sir  Philip  Sidney  has  declared,  “ That  the  chief  life 
of  modern  versifying  consists  in  the  like  sounding  of  words,  which  we 
call  rhyme  which  is  an  authority,  either  without  exception,  or  above 
any  reply.  Wherefore,  you  are  ever  to  try  a good  poem  as  you  would 
sound  a pipkin  ; and  if  it  rings  well  upon  the  knuckle,  be  sure  there  is 
no  flaw  in  it.  Verse  without  rhyme,  is  a body  without  a soul  (for  the 
“ chief  life  consisteth  in  the  rhyme  ”)  or  a bell  without  a clapper ; which, 
in  strictness,  is  no  bell,  as  being  neither  of  use  nor  delight.  And  the 
same  ever  honoured  knight,  with  so  musical  an  ear,  had  that  veneration 
for  the  tuneableness  and  chiming  of  verse,  that  he  speaks  of  a poet  as 
one  that  has  “ the  reverend  title  of  a rhymer."  Our  celebrated  Milton 
has  done  these  nations  great  prejudice  in  this  particular,  having 
spoiled  as  many  reverend  rhymers,  by  his  example,  as  he  has  made 
real  poets. 

For  which  reason,  I am  overjoyed  to  hear  that  a very  ingenious 
youth  of  this  town  is  now  upon  the  useful  design  (for  which  he  is  never 
enough  to  be  commended)  of  bestowing  rhyme  upon  Milton's  Para- 
dise Lost,  which  will  make  the  poem,  in  that  only  defective,  more 
heroic  and  sonorous  than  it  hitherto  has  been.  I wish  the  gentleman 
success  in  the  performance  ; and,  as  it  is  a work  in  which  a young 
man  could  not  be  more  happily  employed,  or  appear  in  with  greater 
advantage  to  his  character,  so  I am  concerned  that  it  did  not  fall  out  to 
be  your  province 

With  much  the  same  view,  I would  recommend  to  you  the  witty  play 
of  pictures  and  mottoes,  which  will  furnish  your  imagination  with  great 
store  of  images  and  suitable  devices.  We  of  these  kingdoms  have 
found  our  account  in  this  diversion,  as  little  as  we  consider  or  acknow- 
ledge it ; for  to  this  we  owe  our  eminent  felicity  in  posies  of  rings, 
mottoes  of  snuff-boxes,  the  humours  of  sign-posts  with  their  elegant 
inscriptions,  &c.,  in  which  kind  of  productions  not  any  nation  in  the 
world,  no,  not  the  Dutch  themselves,  will  presume  to  rival  us. 

For  much  the  same  reason,  it  may  be  proper  for  you  to  have  some 
insight  into  the  play  called  “ What  is  it  like  ?”  as  of  great  use  in  common 
practice,  to  quicken  slow  capacities,  and  improve  the  quickest  : but  the 
chief  end  of  it  is,  to  supply  the  fancy  with  varieties  of  similes  for  all 
subjects.  It  will  teach  you  to  bring  things  to  a likeness,  which  hav6 

28 


434 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


not  the  least  imaginable  conformity  in  nature,  which  is  properly  creation, 
and  the  very  business  of  a poet,  as  his  name  implies  : and  let  me  tell 
you,  a good  poet  can  no  more  be  without  a stock  of  similes  by  him, 
than  a shoemaker  without  his  lasts.  He  should  have  them  sized,  and 
ranged,  and  hung  up  in  order  in  his  shop,  ready  for  all  customers,  and 
shaped  to  the  feet  of  all  sorts  of  verse  ; and  here  I could  more  fully 
(and  I long  to  do  it)  insist  upon  the  wonderful  harmony  and  resemblance 
between  a poet  and  a shoemaker,  in  many  circumstances  common  to 
both  ; such  as  the  binding  of  their  temples,  the  stuff  they  work  upon, 
and  the  paring-knife  they  use,  &c.,  but  that  I would  not  digress,  nor 
seem  to  trifle  in  so  serious  a matter. 

Now,  I say,  if  you  apply  yourself  to  these  diminutive  sports  (not  to 
mention  others  of  equal  ingenuity,  such  as  draw  gloves,  cross  purposes, 
questions  and  commands,  and  the  rest)  it  is  not  to  be  conceived  what 
benefit  (of  nature)  you  will  find  by  them,  and  how  they  will  open  the 
body  of  your  invention.  To  these  devote  your  spare  hours,  or  rather 
spare  all  your  hours  to  them,  and  then  you  will  act  as  becomes  a wise 
mart,  and  make  even  diversions  an  improvement  ; like  the  inimitable 
management  of  the  bee,  which  does  the  whole  business  of  life  at  once, 
and  at  the  same  time  both  feeds,  and  works,  and  diverts  itself. 

Your  own  prudence  will,  I doubt  not,  direct  you  to  take  a place  every 
evening  among  the  ingenious,  in  the  corner  of  a certain  coffee-house  in 
this  town,  where  you  will  receive  a turn  equally  right  as  to  wit,  religion, 
and  politics  ; as  likewise  to  be  as  frequent  at  the  playhouse  as  you  can 
afford,  without  selling  your*books.  For,  in  our  chaste  theatre,  even 
Cato  himself  might  sit  to  the  falling  of  the  curtain  ; besides,  you  will 
sometimes  meet  with  tolerable  conversation  among  the  players  : they 
are  such  a kind  of  men  as  may  pass,  upon  the  same  sort  of  capacities, 
for  wits  off  the  stage,  as  they  ^o  for  fine  gentlemen  upon  it.  Be- 
sides, that  I have  known  a factor  deal  in  as  good  ware,  and  sell  as 
cheap,  as  the  merchant  himself  that  employs  him. 

Add  to  this  the  expediency  of  furnishing  out  your  shelves  with  a 
choice  collection  of  modern  miscellanies,  in  the  gayest  edition  ; and  of 
reading  all  sorts  of  plays,  especially  the  new,  and  above  all,  those  of 
our  own  growth,  printed  by  subscription  ;*  in  which  article  of  Irish 
manufacture,  I readily  agree  to  the  late  proposal,  and  am  altogether 
for  “ rejecting  and  renouncing  everything  that  comes  from  England 
to  what  purpose  should  we  go  thither  for  coals  or  poetry,  when  we 
have  a vein  within  ourselves  equally  good  and  more  convenient? 
Lastly, 

A commonplace  book  is  what  a provident  poet  cannot  subsist  without, 
for  this  proverbial  reason,  that  “great  wits  have  short  memories  a.u> 
whereas,  on  the  other  hand,  poets,  being  liars  by  profession,  ought  to 
have  good  memories  ; to  reconcile  these,  a book  of  this  sort  is  in  the 
nature  of  a supplemental  memory,  or  a record  of  what  occurs  remark- 
able in  every  day’s  reading  or  conversation.  There  you  enter  not  only 
your  own  original  thoughts  (which  a hundred  to  one,  are  few  and  insig- 
nificant), but  such  of  other  men  as  you  think  fit  to  make  your  own,  by 


\ 

i 

i 

\ 


# Alluding  to  the  plays  of  Charles  Shadwell,  whose  father  Thomas  was  poet 
laureate,  from  the  Revolution  till  his  death. — Ed. 


ADVICE  TO  A YOUNG  POET. 


43$ 


entering’  them  there.  For,  take  this  fora  rule,  when  an  author  is  in 
your  books,  you  have  the  same  demand  upon  him  for  his  wit,  as  a mer- 
chant has  for  your  money,  when  you  are  in  his. 

By  these  few  and  easy  prescriptions  (with  the  help  of  a good  genius) 
it  is  possible  you  may,  in  a short  time,  arrive  at  the  accomplishments 
of  a poet,  and  shine  in  that  character.  As  for  your  manner  of  com- 
posing, and  choice  of  subjects,  I cannot  take  upon  me  to  be  your 
director  ; but  I will  venture  to  give  you  some  short  hints,  which  you 
may  enlarge  upon  at  your  leisure.  Let  me  entreat  you  then,  by  no 
means  to  lay  aside  that  notion  peculiar  to  our  modern  refiners  in 
poetry,  which  is,  that  a poet  must  never  write  or  discourse  as  the  ordi- 
nary part  of  mankind  do,  but  in  number  and  verse,  as  an  oracle  ; which 
I mention  the  rather,  because,  upon  this  principle,  I have  known  heroes 
brought  into  the  pulpit,  and  a whole  sermon  composed  and  delivered 
in  blank  verse,  to  the  vast  credit  of  the  preacher,  no  less  than  the  real 
entertainment  and  great  edification  of  the  audience  ; the  secret  of  which 
I take  to  be  this  : when  the  matter  of  such  discourses  is  but  mere  clay, 
or  as  we  usually  call  it,  sad  stuff,  the  preacher  who  can  afford  no  better, 
wisely  moulds,  and  polishes,  and  dries, and  washes  this  piece  of  earthen- 
ware, and  then  bakes  it  with  poetic  fire  ; after  which  it  will  ring  like 
any  pancrock,  and  is  a good  dish  to  set  before  common  guests,  as 
every  congregation  is,  that  comes  so  often  tor  entertainment  to  one 
place. 

There  was  a good  old  custom  in  use,  which  our  ancestors  had,  of  in- 
voking the  muses  at  the  entrance  of  their  poems  ; I suppose,  by  way  of 
craving  a blessing  : this  the  graceless  moderns  have  in  a great  measure 
laid  aside,  but  are  not  to  be  followed  in  that  poetical  impiety  ; for;  al- 
though to  nice  ears  such  invocations  may  sound  harsh  and  disagreeable 
(as  tuning  instruments  is  before  a concert)  they  are  equally  necessary. 
Again,  you  must  not  fail  to  dress  your  muse  in  a forehead  cloth  of  Greek 
or  Latin,  I mean,  you  are  always  to  make  use  of  a quaint  motto  to  all 
your  compositions  ; for,  beside  that  this  artifice  bespeaks  the  reader's 
opinion  of  the  writer’s  learning,  it  is  otherwise  useful  and  commendable. 
A bright  passage  in  the  front  ol  a poem  is  a good  mark,  like  a star  in  a 
horse’s  face  ; and  the  piece  will  certainly  go  off  the  better  for  it.  The 
os  magna  sonaturum , which,  if  I remember  right,  Horace  makes  one 
qualification  of  a good  poet,  may  teach  you  not  to  gag  your  muse,  or 
stint  yourself  in  words  and  epithets  which  cost  you  nothing,  contrary  to 
the  practice  of  some  few  out-of-the-way  writers,  who  use  a natural  and 
concise  expression,  and  affect  a style  like  unto  a Shrewsbury  cake,  short 
and  sweet  upon  the  palate  ; they  will  not  afford  you  a word  more  than 
is  necessary  to  make  them  intelligible,  which  is  as  poor  and  niggardly, 
as  it  would  be  to  set  down  no  more  meat  than  your  company  will  oe  sure 
to  eat  up.  Words  are  but  lackeys  to  sense,  and  will  dance  attendance 
without  wages  or  compulsion  ; Verba  non  invita  sequentur. 

Furthermore,  when  you  set  about  composing,  it  may  be  necessary 
for  your  ease  and  better  distillation  of  wit  to  put  on  your  worst  clothes, 
and  the  worse  the  better ; for  an  author,  like  a limbeck,  will  yield  the 
better  for  having  a rag  about  him  : besides,  that  I have  observed  a 
gardener  cut  the  outward  rind  of  a tree  (which  is  the  surtout  of  it)  to 
make  it  bear  well : and  this  is  a natural  account  of  the  usual  poverty 

ati— 2 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


4-3^ 

of  poets,  and  is  an  argument  why  wits,  of  all  men  living,  ought  to  he 
ill  clad.  I have  always  a sacred  veneration  for  any  one  I observe  to 
be  a little  out  of  repair  in  his  person,  as  supposing  him  either  a poet  or 
a philosopher  ; because  the  richest  minerals  are  ever  found  under  the 
most  ragged  and  withered  surface  of  the  earth. 

As  for  your  choice  of  subjects,  I have  only  to  give  you  this  caution  : 
that,  as  a handsome  way  of  praising  is  certainly  tne  most  difficult  point 
in  writing  or  speaking,  I would  by  no  means  advise  any  young  man  to 
make  his  first  essay  in  panegyric,  beside  the  danger  of  it ; for  a par- 
ticular encomium  is  ever  attended  with  more  ill-will  than  any  general 
invective,  for  which  I need  give  no  reasons  ; wherefore  my  counsel  is, 
that  you  use  the  point  of  your  pen,  not  the  feather  : let  your  first 
attempt  be  a coup  d’ eclat  in  the  way  of  libel,  lampoon,  or  satire.  Knock 
down  half  a score  reputations,  and  you  will  infallibly  raise  your  own  ; 
and  so  it  be  with  wit,  no  matter  with  how  little  justice ; for  fiction  is 
your  trade. 

Every  great  genius  seems  to  ride  upon  mankind  like  Pyrrhus  on  his 
elephant  ; and  the  way  to  have  the  absolute  ascendant  of  your  resty 
nag,  and  to  keep  your  seat,  is,  at  your  first  mounting,  to  afford  him  the 
whip  and  spurs  plentifully  ; after  which  you  may  travel  the  rest  of  the 
dav  with  great  alacrity.  Once  kick  the  world,  and  the  world  and  you 
will  live  together  at  a reasonable  good  understanding.  You  cannot 
but  know  that  those  of  your  profession  have  been  called  genus  irritabile 
vatum;  and  you  will  find  it  necessary  to  qualify  yourself  for  that 
waspish  society  by  exerting  your  talent  of  satire  upon  the  first  occasion, 
and  to  abandon  good  nature,  only  to  prove  yourself  a true  poet,  which 
you  will  allow  to  be  a valuable  consideration  : in  a word,  a young 
robber  is  usually  entered  by  a murder  ; a young  hound  is  blooded  when 
he  comes  first  into  the  field ; a young  bully  begins  with  killing  his  , 
man  ; and  a young  poet  must  show  his  wit,  as  the  other  his  courage, 
by  cutting,  and  slashing,  and  laying  about  him,  and  banging  mankind. 

Lastly,  it  will  be  your  wisdom  to  look  out  betimes  for  a good  service 
for  your  muse,  according  to  her  skill  and  qualifications,  whether  in  the 
nature  of  a dairymaid,  a cook,  or  chairwoman  : I mean  to  hire  out  your 
pen  to  a party,  which  will  afford  you  both  pay  and  protection  ; and  when 
you  have  to  do  with  the  press  (as  you  will  long  to  be  there)  take  care  to 
bespeak  an  importunate  friend,  to  extort  your  productions  with  an 
agreeable  violence  ; and  which,  according  to  the  cue  between  you,  you 
must  surrender  digito  male  per tinaci  : there  is  a decency  in  this  ; for  it 
no  more  becomes  an  author,  in  modesty,  to  have  a hand  in  publishing 
his  own  works  than  a woman  in  labour  to  lay  herself. 

I would  be  very  loth  to  give  the  least  umbrage  or  offence  by  what  I 
have  here  said,  as  I may  do,  if  I should  be  thought  to  insinuate  that 
these  circumstances  of  good  writing  have  been  unknown  to,  or  not  ob- 
served by,  the  poets  of  this  kingdom.  I will  do  my  countrymen  the 
justice  to  say,  they  have  written  by  the  foregoing  rules  with  great  exact- 
ness, and  so  far  as  hardly  to  come  behind  those  of  their  profession  in 
England  in  perfection  of  low  writing.  The  sublime  indeed  is  not  so 
common  with  us  ; but  ample  amends  is  made  for  that  want  in  great 
abundance  of  the  admirable  and  amazing,  which  appears  in  all  our 
compositions.  Our  very  good  triend  (the  knight  aforesaid),  speaking 


ADVICE  TO  A YOUNG  POET. 


43) 


of  the  force  of  poetry,  mentions  “rhyming  to  death,  which  (adds  he)  is 
said  to  be  done  in  Ireland  f and,  truly,  to  our  honour  be  it  spoken,  that 
power,  in  a great  measure,  continues  with  us  to  this  day. 

I would  now  offer  some  poor  thoughts  of  mine  for  the  encouragement 
of  poetry  in  this  kingdom,  if  I could  hope  they  would  be  agreeable.  I 
have  had  many  an  aching  heart  for  the  ill  plight  of  that  noble  profession 
here  ; and  it  has  been  my  late  and  early  study  how  to  bring  it  into  better 
circumstances.  And  surely,  considering  what  monstrous  wits  in  the 
poetic  way  do  almost  daily  start  up  and  surprise  us  in  this  town  ; what 
prodigious  geniuses  we  have  here  (of  which  I could  give  instances 
without  number),  and  withal  of  what  great  benefit  it  may  be  to  our 
trade  to  encourage  that  science  here,  for  it  is  plain  our  linen  manu- 
facture is  advanced  by  the  great  waste  of  paper  made  by  our  present 
set  of  poets  ; not  to  mention  other  necessary  uses  of  the  same  to  shop- 
keepers, especially  grocers,  apothecaries,  and  pastry-cooks,  and  I might 
add,  but  for  our  writers,  the  nation  would  in  a little  time  be  utterly 
destitute  of  bum-fodder,  and  must  of  necessity  import  the  same  from 
England  and  Holland,  where  they  have  it  in  great  abundance  by  the 
indefatigable  labour  of  their  own  wits:  I say,  these  things  considered,  I 
am  humbly  of  opinion  it  would  be  worth  the  care  of  our  governors  to 
cherish  gentlemen  of  the  quill,  and  give  them  all  proper  encouragements 
here.  And,  since  I am  upon  the  subject,  I shall  speak  my  mind  very 
freely,  and,  if  I add  saucily,  it  is  no  more  than  my  birthrignt  as  a 
Briton. 

Seriously,  then,  I have  many  years  lamented  the  want  of  a Grub- 
street  in  this  our  large  and  polite  city,  unless  the  whole  may  be  called 
one.  And  this  I have  accounted  an  unpardonable  defect  in  our  consti- 
tution, ever  since  I had  any  opinions  I could  call  my  own.  Every  one 
knows  Grub-street  is  a market  for  small  ware  in  wit,  and  as  necessary, 
considering  the  usual  purgings  of  the  human  brain,  as  the  nose  is  upon 
a man’s  face  : and  for  the  same  reason  we  have  here  a court,  a college, 
a playhouse,  and  beautiful  ladies,  and  fine  gentlemen,  and  good  claret, 
and  abundance  of  pens,  ink,  and  paper,  clear  of  taxes,  and  every  other 
circumstance  to  provoke  wit ; and  yet  those,  whose  province  it  is,  have 
not  thought  fit  to  appoint  a place  for  evacuations  of  it,  which  is  a very 
hard  case,  as  may  be  judged  by  comparisons. 

And  truly  this  defect  has  been  attended  with  unspeakable  incon- 
veniences ; for,  not  to  mention  the  prejudice  done  to  the  commonwealth 
of  letters,  I am  of  opinion  we  suffer  in  our  health  by  it.  I believe  our 
corrupted  air,  and  frequent  thick  fogs,  are  in  a great  measure  owing  to 
the  common  exposal  of  our  wit  ; and  that,  with  good  management,  our 
poetical  vapours  might  be  carried  off  in  a common  drain,  and  fall  into 
one  quarter  of  the  town  without  infecting  the  whole,  as  the  case  is  at 
present,,  to  the  great  offence  of  our  nobility  and  gentry,  and  others  of 
nice  noses.  When  writers  of  all  sizes,  like  freemen  of  the  city,  are  at 
liberty  to  throw  out  their  filth  and  excrementitious  productions  in 
every  street  as  they  please,  what  can  the  consequence  be,  but  that  the 
town  must  be  poisoned,  and  become  such  another  jakes,  as,  by  report 
of  great  travellers,  Edinburgh  is  at  night,  a thing  well  to  be  considered 
in  these  pestilential  times. 

I am  not  of  the  society  for  reformation  of  manners,  but,  without  that 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


438 

pragmatical  title,  I should  be  glad  to  see  some  amendment  in  the 
matter  before  us  wherefore,  I humbly  bespeak  the  favour  of  the  lord 
mayor,  the  court  of  aldermen,  and  common  council,  together  with  the 
whole  circle  of  arts  in  this  town,  and  do  recommend  this  affair  to  their 
most  political  consideration  ; and  I persuade  myself  they  will  not  be 
wanting  in  their  best  endeavours,  when  they  can  serve  two  such  good 
ends  at  once,  as  both  to  keep  the  town  sweet,  and  encourage  poetry  in 
it.  Neither  do  I make  any  exceptions  as  to  satirical  poets  and  lam- 
poon writers  in  consideration  of  their  office  ; for  though,  indeed,  their 
business  is  to  rake  into  kennels,  and  gather  up  the  filth  of  streets  and 
families  (in  which  respect  they  may  be,  for  aught  I know,  as  necessary 
to  the  town  as  scavengers  or  chimney-sweeps)  yet  I have  observed  they, 
mo,  have  themselves,  at  the  same  time,  very  foul  clothes,  and,  like 
dirty  persons,  leave  more  filth  and  nastiness  than  they  sweep  away. 

In  a word,  w>hat  I would  be  at  (for  I love  to  be  plain  in  matters  of 
importance  to  my  country)  is,  that  some  private  street,  or  blind  alley  of 
this  town,  may  be  fitted  up  at  the  charge  of  the  public  as  an  apart- 
ment for  the  muses  (like  those  at  Rome  and  Amsterdam  for  their 
female  relations),  and  be  wholly  consigned  to  the  uses  of  our  wits,  fur- 
nished completely  with  all  appurtenances,  such  as  authors,  supervisors, 
presses,  printers,  hawkers,  shops,  and  warehouses,  abundance  of  garrets, 
and  every  other  implement  and  circumstance  of  wit  ; the  benefit  of  - 
which  would  obviously  be  this,  viz.,  that  we  should  then  have  a safe 
repository  for  our  best  productions,  which  at  present  are  handed  about 
in  single  sheets  or  manuscripts,  and  may  be  altogether  lost  (which  were 
a pity),  or  at  the  best  are  subject,  in  that  loose  dress,  like  handsome  j 
women,  to  great  abuse. 

Another  point  that  has  cost  me  some  melancholv  reflections,  is  the 
present  state  of  the  playhouse  ; the  encouragement  of  which  has  an  i 
immediate  influence  upon  the  poetry  of  the  kingdom,  as  a good  < 
marke  improves  the  tillage  of  the  neighbouring  country,  and  enriches 
the  ploughman  ; neither  qo  we  of  this  town  seem  enough  to  know  or 
consider  the  vast  benefit  of  a playhouse  to  our  city  and  nation  : that 
single  house  is  the  fountain  of  all  our  love,  wit,  dress,  and  gallantry. 

It  is  the  school  of  wisdom,  for  there  we  learn  to  know  what's  what ; 
which,  however,  I cannot  say  is  always  in  that  place  sound  knowledge. 
There  our  young  folks  drop  their  childish  mistakes,  and  come  first  to 
perceive  their  m others'  cheat  of  the  parsley-bed  ; there,  too,  they  get  < 
rid  of  natural  prejudices,  especially  those  of  religion  and  modesty, 
which  are  great  restraints  to  a free  people.  The  same  is  a remedy  for 
the  spleen,  and  blushing,  and  several  distempers  occasioned  by  the  j 
stagnation  of  the  blood.  It  is  likewise  a school  of  common  swearing  ; 
my  young  master,  who  at  first  but  minced  an  oath,  is  taught  there  to 
'.mouth  it  gracefully,  and  to  swear,  as  he  reads  French,  ore  rotundo . 
Profaneness  was  before  to  him  in  the  nature  of  his  best  suit,  or  holiday 
clothes  ; but,  upon  frequenting  the  playhouse,  swearing,  cursing,  and 
king,  become  like  his  every  day  coat,  waistcoat,  and  breeches.  Now, 

I say  common  swearing,  a produce  of  this  country  as  plentiful  as  our 
corn,  thus  cultivated  by  the  playhouse  might,  with  management,  be  of 
wonderful  advantage  to  the  nation,  as  a projector  of  the  swearers'  bank 
has  proved  at  large.  Lastly,  the  stage  in  great  measure  supports  tho 


ADVICE  TO  A YOUNG  POET. 


439 


pulpit ; for  I know  not  what  our  divines  could  have  to  say  there 
against  the  corruptions  of  the  age,  but  for  the  playhouse,  which  is  the 
seminary  of  them.  From  which  it  is  plain,  the  public  is  a gainer  by  the 
playhouse,  and  consequently  ought  to  countenance  it ; and  were  I 
worthy  to  put  in  my  word,  or  prescribe  to  my  betters,  I could  say  in 
what  manner. 

I have  heard  that  a certain  gentleman  has  great  design  to  serve  the 
public,  in  the  way  of  their  diversion,  with  due  encouragement ; that  is, 
if  he  can  obtain  some  concordatum  money,  or  yearly  salary,  and  hand- 
some contribution  ; and  well  he  deserves  the  favours  of  the  nation  : 
for,  to  do  him  justice,  he  has  an  uncommon  skill  in  pastimes,  having 
altogether  applied  his  studies  that  way,  and  travelled  full  many  a league 
by  sea  and  land,  for  this  his  profound  knowledge.  With  that  view 
alone  he  has  visited  all  the  courts  and  cities  in  Europe,  and  has  been 
at  more  pains  than  I shall  speak  of,  to  take  an  exact  draught  of  the 
playhou^b  at  the  Hague,  as  a model  for  a new  one  here.  But  what  can 
a private  man  do  by  himself  in  so  public  an  undertaking  ? It  is  not  to 
be  doubted  but,  by  his  care  and  industry,  vast  improvements  may  be 
made,  not  only  in  our  playhouse  (which  is  his  immediate  province),  but 
in  our  gaming  ordinaries,  groom-porters,  lotteries,  bowling-greens, 
ninepin-alleys,  bear-gardens,  cock-pits,  prizes,  puppets,  and  rareeshows, 
and  whatever  else  concerns  the  elegant  divertisements  of  this  town. 
He  is  truly  an  original  genius  ; and  I felicitate  this  our  capital  city  on 
his  residence  here,  where  I wish  him  long  to  live  and  flourish,  for  the 
good  of  the  commonwealth. 

Once  more  : If  any  farther  applications  shall  be  made  on  the  other 
side,  to  obtain  a charter  for  a bank  here,  I presume  to  make  a request, 
that  poetry  may  be  a sharer  in  that  privilege,  being  a fund  as  real,  ano 
to  the  full  as  well  grounded  as  our  stocks  ; but  I fear  our  neighbours, 
who  envy  our  wit  as  much  as  they  do  our  wealth  or  trade,  will  give  no 
encouragement  to  either.  I believe,  also,  it  might  be  proper  to  erect  a 
corporation  of  poets  in  this  city.  I have  been  idle  enough  in  my  time 
to  make  a computation  of  wits  here  ; and  do  find  we  have  three 
hundred  performing  poets  and  upward,  in  and  about  this  town,  reckon- 
ing six  score  to  the  hundred,  and  allowing  for  demies,  like  pint  bottles  ; 
including  also  the  several  denominations  of  imitators,  translators,  and 
familiar  letter  writers,  &c.  One  of  these  last  has  lately  entertained  the 
town  wflth  an  original  piece,  and  such  a one  as,  I daresay,  the  late 
British  Spectator,  in  his  decline,  would  have  called,  “ an  excellent 
specimen  of  the  true  sublime  or  “ a noble  poem  or  “ a fine  copy  of 
verses,  on  a subject  perfectly  new,”  the  author  himself ; and  had  given 
it  a place  among  his  latest  lucubrations. 

But,  as  I was  saying,  so  many  poets,  I am  confident,  are  sufficient  to 
furnish  out  a corporation  in  point  of  number.  Then,  for  the  several 
degrees  of  subordinate  members  requisite  to  such  a body,  there  can  be 
no  want ; for,  although  we  have  not  one  masterly  poet,  yet  we  abound 
with  wardens  and  beadles  ; having  a multitude  of  poetasters,  poetitoes, 
parcel-poets,  poet-apes  and  philo-poets,  and  many  of  inferior  attainment? 
in  wit,  but  strong  inclinations  to  it,  which  are  by  ocids  more  than  ai 
the  **est.  Nor  shall  I ever  be  at  ease  till  this  pro  ect  of  mine  (fo 
which  I am  neartuy  thankiul  to  myself)  shall  be  reauced  to  practice. 


44<> 


DEAA  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


I long  to  see  the  day  when  our  poets  will  be  a regular  and  distinct 
body,  and  wait  upon  the  Lord  Mayor  on  public  days,  like  other  good 
citizens,  in  gowns  turned  up  with  green  instead  of  laurels  ; and  when  I 
myself,  who  make  this  proposal,  shall  be  free  of  their  company. 

To  conclude  : what  if  our  government  had  a poet  laureate  here,  as  in 
England  ? what  if  our  university  had  a professor  of  poetry  here,  as  in 
England  ? what  if  our  lord  mayor  had  a city  bard  here,  as  in  England  ? 
and,  to  refine  upon  England,  what  if  every  corporation,  parish,  and 
ward  in  this  town,  had  a poet  in  fee,  as  they  have  not  in  England  ? 
Lastly,  what  if  every  one,  so  qualified,  were  obliged  to  add  one  more 
than  usual  to  the  number  of  his  domestics,  and  beside  a fool  and  a 
chaplain  (which  are  often  united  in  one  person)  would  retain  a poet  in 
his  family  ; for,  perhaps,  a rhymer  is  as  necessary  among  servants  of  a 
house  as  a Dobbin  with  his  bells  at  the  head  ot  a team.  But  these 
things  I leave  to  the  wisdom  of  my  superiors. 

While  I have  been  directing  your  pen,  I should  not  forget  tc^govern 
my  own,  which  has  already  exceeded  the  bounds  of  a letter  : 1 must 
therefore  take  my  leave  abruptly,  and  desire  you,  without  farther  cere- 
mony, to  believe  that  I am,  Sir, 

Your  most  humble  servant, 

J.  S. 


AN  ACCOUNT  I 

OF  THE 

COURT  AND  EMPIRE  OF  JAPAN.* ••  1 

WRITTEN  IN  1728. 

REGOGE  t was  the  thirty-fourth  emperor  of  Japan,  and  began  his 
reign  in  the  year  341  of  the  Christian  era,  succeeding  to  Nena,J 
a princess  who  governed  with  great  felicity. 

There  had  been  a revolution  in  that  empire  about  twenty-six  years 
before,  which  made  some  breaches  in  the  hereditary  line ; and  j 
Regoge,  successor  to  Nena,  although  of  the  royal  family,  was  a distant 
relation. 

There  were  two  violent  parties  in  the  empire,  which  began  in  the 
time  of  the  revolution  above  mentioned  : and  at  the  death  of  the 
empress  Nena,  were  in  the  highest  degree  of  animosity,  each  charging 
the  other  with  a design  of  introducing  new  gods,  and  changing  the 

* Much  as  Swift  seems  to  have  been  disposed  to  defend  Queen  Anne  and 
her  ministers,  he  seems  to  have  been  equally  disposed  to  ridicule  her  successor 
and  his  family  ; and  it  is  probable  that  the  pieces  in  which  he  does  it  (this 

••  Account  of  the  Court  of  Japan,”  and  the  “Directions  for  making  a Birthday 
Song,”)were  the  occasion  of  most  of  the  other  posthumous  articles  having  been 
so  long  withheld  from  the  public. — Burke. 

+ King  George.  % Queen  Anne. 


COURT  AND  EMPIRE  OF  JAPAN. 


441 


civil  constitution.  The  names  of  these  two  parties  were  Husiges  and 
Yortes.*  The  latter  were  those  whom  Nena,  the  late  empress,  most 
favoured  toward  the  end  of  her  reign,  and  by  whose  advice  she 
governed. 

The  Husige  faction,  enraged  at  their  loss  of  power,  made  private 
applications  to  Regoge,  during  the  life  of  the  empress,  which  prevailed 
so  far  that,  upon  her  death,  the  new  emperor  wholly  disgraced  the 
Yortes,  and  employed  only  the  Husiges  in  all  his  affairs.  The  Japanese 
author  highly  blames  his  imperial  majesty’s  proceeding  in  this  affair  ; 
because  it  was  allowed  on  all  hands,  that  he  had  then  a happy  oppor- 
tunity of  reconciling  parties  for  ever,  by  a moderating  scheme.  But 
he,  on  the  contrary,  began  his  reign  by  openly  disgracing  the  principal 
and  most  popular  Yortes,  some  of  which  had  been  chiefly  instrumental 
in  raising  him  to  the  throne.  By  this  mistaken  step  he  occasioned  a 
rebellion  : which,  although  it  were  soon  quelled  by  some  very  surpris- 
ing turns  of  fortune  ; yet  the  fear,  whether  real  or  pretended,  of  new 
attempts,  engaged  him  in  such  immense  charges,  that  instead  of  clear- 
ing any  part  of  that  prodigious  debt,  left  on  his  kingdom  by  the  former 
war,  which  might  have  been  done,  by  any  tolerable  management,  in 
twelve  years  of  the  most  profound  peace,  he  left  his  empire  loaded  with 
a vast  addition  to  the  old  incumbrance. 

This  prince  before  he  succeeded  to  the  empire  of  Japan,  was  king  ol 
Tedsu,  a dominion  seated  on  the  continent,  10  the  west  side  of  Japan. 
Tedsu  was  the  place  of  his  birth,  and  more  beloved  by  him  than  his 
new  empire  ; for  there  he  spent  some  months  almost  every  year,  and 
thither  was  supposed  to  have  conveyed  great  sums  of  money,  saved 
out  of  his  imperial  revenues. 

There  were  two  maritime  towns  of  great  importance  bordering  upon 
Tedsu  : of  these  he  purchased  a litigated  title  ; and  to  support  it,  was 
forced  not  only  to  entrench  deeply  on  his  Japanese  revenues,  but  to 
engage  in  alliances  very  dangerous  to  the  Japanese  empire. 

Japan  was  at  that  time  a limited  monarchy,  which,  some  authors  are 
of  opinion,  was  introduced  there  by  a detachment  from  the  numerous 
army  of  Brennus,  who  ravaged  a great  part  of  Asia  ; and  those  of  them 
who  fixed  in  Japan,  left  behind  them  that  kind  of  military  institution, 
which  the  northern  people  in  ensuing  ages  carried  through  most  parts 
of  Europe  ; the  generals  becoming  kings,  the  great  officers  a senate  of 
nobles,  with  a representative  from  every  centenary  of  private  soldiers  ; 
and  in  the  assent  of  the  majority  in  these  two  bodies,  confirmed  by  the 
general,  the  legislature  consisted. 

I need  not  farther  explain  a matter  so  universally  known  ; but  return 
to  my  subject. 

The  Husige  faction,  by  a gross  piece  of  negligence  in  the  Yortes, 
had  so  far  insinuated  themselves  and  their  opinions  into  the  favour  of 
Regoge,  before  he  came  to  the  empire,  that  this  prince  firmly  believed 
them  to  be  his  only  true  friends,  and  the  others  his  mortal  enemies.  By 
this  opinion  he  governed  all  the  actions  of  his  reign. 

Theemperor  died  suddenly,  in  his  journey  to  Tedsu  ; where,  accord* 
fog  to  his  usual  custom,  he  was  going  to  pass  the  summer. 


Whigs  and  Tories. 


44* 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


This  prince,  during  his  whole  reign,  continued  an  absolute  strangei 
to  the  language,  the  manners,  the  laws,  and  the  religion  of  Japan,  and 
passing  his  whole  time  among  old  mistresses,  or  a.few  privacies,  lett 
the  whole  management  of  the  empire  in  the  hands  of  a minister,  upon 
the  condition  of  being  made  easy  in  his  personal  revenues,  and  the 
management  of  parties  in  the  senate.  His  last  minister,*  who  governed 
in  the  most  arbitrary  manner  for  several  years,  he  was  thought  to  hate 
more  than  he  did  any  other  person  in  Japan,  except  his  only  son, 
the  heir  to  the  emoire.  The  dislike  he  bore  to  the  former  was,  because 
the  minister,  under  pretence  that  he  could  not  govern  the  senate  with- 
out  disposing  of  employments  among  them,  would  not  suffer  his  master 
to  oblige  one  single  person,  but  disposed  of  all  to  his  own  relations  and 
dependents.  But,  as  to  that  continued  and  virulent  hatred  he  bore  to 
the  prince  his  son,  from  the  beginning  of  his  reign  to  his  death,  the 
historian  has  not  accounted  for  it,  farther  than  by  various  conjectures, 
which  do  not  deserve  to  be  related. 

The  minister  above  mentioned  was  of  a family  not  contemptible,  naa 
been  early  a senator,  and  from  his  youth  a mortal  enemy  to  the  Yortes. 
He  had  been  formerly  disgraced  in  the  senate  for  some  frauds  in  the 
management  of  a public  trust.  He  was  perfectly  skilled,  by  lon^ 
practice,  in  the  senatorial  forms  ; and  dextrous  in  the  purchasing  of 
votes  from  those  who  could  find  their  accounts  better  in  complying 
with  his  measures,  than  they  could  probably  lose  by  any  tax  that  might 
be  charged  on  the  kingdom.  He  seemed  to  fail,  in  point  of  policy,  by 
not  concealing  his  gettings;  never  scrupling  openly  to  lay  out  vast 
sums  of  money  in  paintings,  buildings,  and  purchasing  estates  ; when 
it  was  known  that  upon  his  first  coming  into  business,  upon  the  death 
of  the  empress  Nena,  his  fortune  was  but  inconsiderable.  He  had  the 
most  boldness,  and  the  least  magnanimity  that  ever  any  mortal  was 
endowed  with.  By  enriching  his  relations,  fnenos,  and  dependents,  m 
a most  exorbitant  manner,  he  was  weak  enough  to  imagine  that  he  had 
provided  a support  against  an  evil  day.  He  had  the  oest  among  all 
false  appearances  of  courage  ; which  was,  a most  unlimited  assurance, 
whereby  he  would  swagger  the  boldest  man  into  a dread  of  his  power  ; 
but  had  not  the  smallest  portion  of  magnanimity,  growing  jealous,  and 
disgracing  every  man  who  was  known  to  bear  the  least  civility  to  those 
he  disliked.  He  had  some  small  smattering  m books,  but  no  manner  , 
of  politeness  : nor,  in  his  whole  life,  was  ever  known  to  advance  any  one 
person,  upon  the  score  of  wit,  learning,  or  abilities  for  business.  The. 
Whole  system  of  his  ministry  was  corruption  ; and  he  never  gave  bnbe 
or  pension  without  frankly  telling  the  receivers  what  he  expected  from 
them,  and  threatening  them  to  put  an  end  to  his  bounty  it  they  tailed 
to  comply  in  every  circumstance.  . 

A few  months  before  the  emperor’s  death,  there  was  a design  con- 
certecl  between  some  eminent  persons  of  both  parties,  whom  the  aes- 
perate  state  of  the  empire  had  united,  to  accuse  the  minister  at  the  hist 
meeting  of  a new-chosen  senate,  which  was  then  to  assemble  according 
to  the  laws  of  that  empire.  And  it  was  believed,  that  the  vast  expense 
he  must  be  at,  in  choosing  an  assembly  proper  tor  his  purpose,  added 


Sir  Robert  Walpole. 


443 


COURT  AND  EMPIRE  OF  JAPAN. 

to  the  low  state  of  the  treasury,  the  increasing  number  of  pensioners, 
the  great  discontent  of  the  people,  and  the  personal  hatred  of  the  em- 
peror, would,  if  well  laid  open  in  the  senate,  be  of  weight  enough  to  sink 
the  minister,  when  it  should  appear  to  his  very  pensioners  and  creatures, 
that  he  could  not  supply  them  much  longer. 

While  this  scheme  was  in  agitation,  an  account  came  of  the  em- 
peror’s death  ; and  the  prince  his  son,*  with  universal  joy,  mounted  the 
throne  of  Japan. 

The  new  emperor  had  always  lived  a private  life,  during  the  reign  of 
his  father  ; who,  in  his  annual  absence,  never  trusted  him  more  than 
once  with  the  reins  of  government,  which  he  held  so  evenly,  that  he 
became  too  popular  to  be  confided  in  any  more.  He  was  thought  not 
unfavourable  to  the  Yortes,  at  least  not  altogether  to  approve  the 
virulence,  wherewith  his  father  proceeded  against  them  ; and  therefore, 
immediately  upon  his  succession,  the  principal  persons  of  that  deno^ 
mination  came,  in  several  bodies,  to  kiss  the  hem  of  his  garment ; 
whom  he  received  with  great  courtesy,  and  some  of  them  with  par- 
ticular marks  of  distinction. 

The  prince,  during  the  reign  of  his  father,  having  not  been  trusted 
with  any  public  charge,  employed  his  leisure  in  learning  the  language, 
the  religion,  the  customs,  and  disposition  of  the  Japanese,  wherein 
he  received  great  information,  among  others  from  Nomtoc,t  master 
of  his  finances,  and  president  of  the  Senate,  who  secretly  hated  Le- 
lop-Aw,  the  minister  ; and  likewise  from  Ramneh,J  a most  eminent 
senator,  who,  despairing  to  do  any  good  with  the  father,  had  with 
great  industry,  skill  and  decency,  used  his  endeavours  to  instil  good 
principles  into  the  young  prince. 

Upon  the  news  of  the  former  emperor’s  death,  a grand  council 
was  summoned  ot  course,  where  little  passed  beside  directing  the 
ceremony  of  proclaiming  the  successor.  But,  in  some  days  after,  the 
new  emperor,  having  consulted  with  those  persons  in  whom  he  could 
chiefly  confide,  ana  maturely  considered  in  his  own  mind  the  present 
state  of  his  affairs,  as  well  as  the  disposition  of  his  people,  convoked 
another  assembly  of  his  council ; wherein,  after  some  time  spent  in 
general  business,  suitable  to  the  present  emergency,  he  directed  Lelop- 
Aw  to  give  him,  in  as  short  terms  as  he  conveniently  could,  an  ac- 
count of  the  nation’s  debts,  of  his  management  in  the  senate  and  his 
negotiations  with  foreign  courts  : which  that  minister  having  delivered, 
according  to  his  usual  manner,  with  much  assurance  and  little  satis- 
faction, the  emperor  desired  to  be  fully  satisfied  in  the  following 
particulars. 

Whether  the  vast  expense  of  choosing  such  members  into  the  senate, 
as  would  be  content  to  do  the  public  business, were  absolutely  necessary? 

W7hether  those  members,  thus  chosen  in,  tvould  cross  and  impede 
the  necessary  course  of  affairs,  unless  they  were  supplied  with  great 
sums  of  money  and  continued  pensions  ? 

Whether  the  same  corruption  and  perverseness  were  to  be  expected 
from  the  nobles  ? 

* King  George  II. 

+ Sir  Spencer  Compton,  speaker  of  the  House  of  Common* 

J Sir  Thomas  Hanmer. 


444  DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 

Whether  the  empire  of  Japan  were  in  so  Iowa  condition,  that  the  im* 
perial  envoys  at  foreign  courts,  must  be  forced  to  purchase  alliances,  of 
prevent  a war,  by  immense  bribes  given  to  the  ministers  of  all  th<s 
neighbouring  princes  ? 

Why  the  debts  of  the  empire  were  so  prodigiously  advanced,  in  a 
peace  of  twelve  years  at  home  and  abroad  ? 

Whether  the  Yortes  were  universally  enemies  to  the  religion  and  laws 
of  the  empire,  and  to  the  imperial  family  now  reigning  ? 

Whether  those  persons,  whose  revenues  consist  in  lands,  do  not  give  i 
surer  pledges  of  fidelity  to  the  public,  and  are  more  interested  in  the 
welfare  of  the  empire,  than  others,  whose  fortunes  consist  only  m 

money?  , , , 

And  because  Lelop-Aw,  for  several  years  past,  had  engrossed  the 
whole  administration,  the  emperor  signified,  that  from  him  alone  .he 

expected  an  answer.  . . , 

This  minister,  who  had  sagacity  enough  to  cultivate  an  interest  in  the 
young  prince’s  family,  during  the  emperor’s  life,  received  early  intelli- 
gence from  one  of  his  emissaries,  of  what  was  intended  at  the  council, 
and  had  sufficient  time  to  frame  as  plausible  an  answer,  as  his  cause 
and  conduct  would  allow.  However,  having  desired  a few  minutes  to 
put  his  thoughts  in  order,  he  delivered  them  in  the  following  manners 

u Sir  • \ 

“ Upon  this  short  unexpected  warning,  to  answer  your  imperial 
majesty’s  queries,  I should  be  wholly  at  a loss,  in  your  majesty  s august 
presence,  and  that  of  this  most  noble  assembly,  if  I were  armed  with  a 
weaker  defence  than  my  own  loyalty  and  integrity,  and  the  prosperous 
success  of  mv  endeavours.  , 

“ It  is  well  known,  that  the  death  of  the  empress  Nena  happened  in 
a most  miraculous  juncture  : and  that  if  she  had  lived  two  months 
longer,  your  illustrious  family  would  have  been  deprived  of  your  right; 
and  we  should  have  seen  an  usurper  upon  your  throne,  who  would  have 
wholly  changed  the  constitution  of  this  empire,  both  civil  and  sacred ; 
and,  although  that  empress  died  in  a most  opportune  season,  yet  the 
peaceable  entrance  of  your  majesty’s  father  was  effected  by  a continual 
series  of  miracles.  The  truth  of  this  appears,  by  that  unnatural  re- 
bellion which  the  Yortes  raised,  without  the  least  provocation,  m thq 
first  year  of  the  late  emperor’s  reign  ; which  may  be  sufficient  to  com 
vince  your  majesty,  that  every  soul  of  that  denomination,  was,  is,  and 
will  be  for  ever,  a favourer  of  the  pretender,  a mortal  enemy  to  v out 
illustrious  family,  and  an  introducer  of  new  gods  into  the  empire.  Upon 
this  foundation  was  built  the  whole  conduct  of  our  affairs  : anti  since 
a great  majority  of  the  kingdom  was  at  that  time  reckoned  to  favour 
the  Yortes  faction,  who,  in  the  regular  course  of  elections,  must  certainly 
have  been  chosen  members  of  the  senate  then  to  be  convoked  ; it  was 
necessary  by  the  force  of  money,  to  influence  elections  in  such  a man- 
ner, that  your  majesty’s  father  might  have  a sufficient  number,  to  weigr 
down  the  scale  on  his  side,  and  thereby  carry  on  those  measures,  whicfc 
could  only  secure  him  and  his  family  in  the  possession  of  the  empire 
To  support  this  original  plan,  I came  into  the  service  ; but  the  member* 
of  the  senate  knowing  themselves  every  day  more  necessary,  upon  the 


445 


COURT  AND  EMPIRE  OP  JAPAN. 

Choosing  of  a new  senate,  I found  the  charges  to  increase  : and  that 
after  they  were  chosen,  they  insisted  upon  an  increase  of  their  pensions; 
because  they  well  knew,  that  the  work  could  not  be  carried  on  without 
them  : and  I was  more  general  in  my  donatives,because  I thought  it  was 
more  for  the  honour  of  the  crown,  that  every  vote  should  pass  without  a 
division,  and  that  when  a debate  was  proposed;  it  should  immediately 
be  quashed  by  putting  the  question. 

“ Sir,  the  date  of  the  present  senate  is  expired,  and  your  imperial 
majesty  is  now  to  convoke  a new  one  ; which,  I confess,  will  be  some- 
what more  expensive  than  the  last,  because  the  Yortes,  from  your 
favourable  reception,  have  begun  to  reassume  a spirit,  whereof  the 
country  had  some  intelligence ; and  we  know,  the  majority  of  the 
people,  without  proper  management,  would  be  still  in  that  fatal  interest. 
However,  I dare  undertake,  with  the  charge  only  of  four  hundred  thou- 
sand sprangs,*  to  return  as  great  a majority  of  senators  of  the  true 
stamp,  as  your  majesty  can  desire.  As  to  the  sums  of  money  paid  in 
foreign  courts,  I hope,  in  some  years,  to  ease  the  nation  of  them,  when 
we  and  our  neighbours  come  to  a good  understanding.  However,  I will 
be  bold  to  say,  they  are  cheaper  than  a war,  where  your  majesty  is  to 
be  a principal. 

“ The  pensions  indeed  to  senators  and  other  persons  must  needs 
increase  from  the  restiveness  of  some  and  scrupulous  nature  of  others  ; 
and  the  new  members  who  are  unpractised  must  have  better  encourage- 
ment. However,  I dare  undertake  to  bring  the  eventual  charge  within 
eight  hundred  thousand  sprangs.  But,  to  make  this  easy,  there  shall 
be  new  funds  raised,  of  which  I have  several  schemes  ready,  without 
taxing  bread  or  flesh,  which  shall  be  reserved  to  more  pressing  occa- 
sions. 

“ Your  majesty  knows,  it  is  the  laudable  custom  of  all  eastern  princes 
to  leave  the  whole  management  of  affairs,  both  qivil  and  military,  to 
their  viziers. 

“ The  appointments  for  your  family  and  private  purse  shall  exceed 
those  of  your  predecessors  : you  shall  be  at  no  trouble,  farther  than  to 
appear  sometimes  in  council,  and  leave  the  rest  to  me  ; you  shall  hear 
no  clamour  or  complaints  ; your  senate  shall,  upon  occasion,  declare 
you  the  best  of  princes,  the  father  of  your  country,  the  arbiter  of  Asia, 
the  defender  of  the  oppressed,  and  the  oelight  of  mankind. 

“ Sir,  hear  not  those  who  would  most  falsely,  impiously,  and  mali- 
ciously insinuate  that  your  government  can  be  carried  on  without  that 
wholesome  necessary  expedient  of  sharing  the  public  revenue  with  your 
faithful  deserving  senators.  This,  I know,  my  enemies  are  pleased  to 
call  bribery  and  corruption.  Be  it  so  ; but  I insist  that,  without  this 
bribery  and  corruption,  the  wheels  of  government  will  not  turn  ; or  at 
least  will  be  apt  to  take  fire,  like  other  wheels,  unless  they  be  greased 
at  proper  times.  If  an  angel  from  heaven  should  descend  to  govern 
this  empire  upon  any  other  scheme  than  what  our  enemies  call  corrup- 
tion, he  must  return  from  whence  he  came,  and  leave  the  work  un- 
done. 

“Sir,  it  is  well  known  we  are  a trading  nation,  and  consequently 
cannot  thrive  in  a bargain  where  nothing  is  to  be  gained.  The  poor 
# About  a million  sterling. 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


446 

electors,  who  run  from  their  shops  or  the  plough  for  the  service  of 
their  countrv,  are  they  not  to  be  considered  for  their  labour  and  their 
loyalty  ? The  candidates  who,  with  the  hazard  of  their  persons,  the 
loss  of  their  characters,  and  the  ruin  of  their  fortunes,  are  preferred  to 
the  senate,  in  a country  where  they  are  strangers,  before  the  very  lords 
of  the  soil ; are  they  not  to  be  rewarded  for  their  zeal  to  your  majesty’s 
service,  and  qualified  to  live  in  your  metropolis,  as  becomes  the  lustre 
of  their  stations? 

“ Sir,  if  I have  given  great  numbers  of  the  most  profitable  emoloy- 
ments  among  my  own  relations  and  nearest  allies,  it  was  not  out  of  any 
partiality  ; but  because  1 know  them  best,  and  can  best  depend  upon 
them.  I have  been  at  the  pains  to  mould  and  cultivate  their  opinions. 
Abler  heads  might  probably  have  been  found  ; but  they  would  not  be 
equally  under  my  direction.  A huntsman,  who  has  the  absolute  com- 
mand of  his  dogs,  will  hunt  more  effectually  than  with  a better  pack,  to 
whose  manner  and  cry  he  is  a stranger. 

“ Sir,  upon  the  whole,  I will  appeal  to  all  those  who  best  knew  your 
royal  father,  whether  that  blessed  monarch  had  ever  one  anxious 
thought  for  the  public,  or  disappointment,  or  uneasiness,  or  want  of 
money  for  all  his  occasions,  during  the  time  of  my  administration  ? 
And  how  happy  the  people  confessed  themselves  to  be  under  such  a 
king,  I leave  to  their  own  numerous  addresses  ; which  all  politicians 
will  allow  to  be  the  most  infallible  proof  how  any  nation  stands  affected 
to  their  sovereign.” 

Lelop-Aw,  having  ended  his  speech,  and  struck  his  forehead  thrice 
against  the  table,  as  the  custom  is  in  Japan,  sat  down  with  great  com- 
placency of  mind,  and  much  applause  of  his  adherents,  as  might  be 
observed  by  their  countenances  and  their  whispers.  But  the  emperor’s 
behaviour  was  remarkable  ; for,  during  the  whole  harangue,  he  ap- 
peared equally  attentive  and  uneasy.  After  a short  pause,  his  majesty 
commanded  that  some  other  counsellor  should  deliver  his  thoughts, 
either  to  confirm  or  object  against  what  had  been  spoken  by  Lelop-A,w# 


ANTIQUITY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  TONGUE. 


44> 


A 

DISCOURSE 

TO  PROVE 

THE  ANTIQUITY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  TONGUE. 

SHOWING,  FROM  VARIOUS  INSTANCES,  THAT  HEBREW,  GREEK,  AND 
LATIN,  WERE  DERIVED  FROM  THE  ENGLISH. 


DURING  the  reign  of  parties  for  about  forty  years  past,  it  is  a 
melancholy  consideration  to  observe  how  philology  has  been 
neglected,  which  was  before  the  darling  employment  of  the  greatest 
authors,  from  the  restoration  of  learning  in  Europe.  Neither  do  I 
remember  it  to  have  been  cultivated  since  the  Revolution  by  any  one 
person  with  great  success,  except  our  illustrious  modern  star,  Doctor 
Richard  Bentley,  with  whom  the  republic  of  learning  must  expire, 
as  mathematics  did  with  Sir  Isaac  Newton.  My  ambition  has  been 
gradually  attempting  from  my  early  youth  to  be  the  holder  of  a rush- 
light  before  that  great  luminary ; which,  at  least,  might  be  of  some 
little  use  during  those  short  intervals,  while  he  was  snuffing  his  candle, 
or  peeping  with  it  under  a bushel. 

My  present  attempt  is  to  assert  the  antiquity  of  our  English  tongue  ; 
which,  as  I shall  undertake  to  prove  by  invincible  arguments,  has 
varied  very  little  for  these  two  thousand  six  hundred  and  thirty-four 
years  past.  And  my  proofs  will  be  drawn  from  etymology  ; wherein  I 
shall  use  my  readers  much  fairer  than  Pezro,  Skinner,  Verstegan, 
Camden,  and  many  other  superficial  pretenders  have  done  ; for  I will 
put  no  force  upon  the  words,  nor  desire  any  more  favour  than  to  allow 
for  the  usual  accidents  of  corruption,  or  the  avoiding  a cacophonia. 

I think  I can  make  it  manifest  to  all  impartial  readers  that  our 
language,  as  we  now  speak  it,  was  originally  the  same  w ith  those  of  the 
Jews,  the  Greeks,  and  the  Romans,  however  corrupted  in  succeeding 
times  by  a mixture  of  barbarisms.  I shall  only  produce  at  present  two 
instances  among  a thousand  from  the  Latin  tongue.  Cloaca , which 
they  interpret  a necessary-house , is  altogether  an  English  word  ; the 
last  letter  a being,  by  the  mistake  of  some  scribe,  transferred  from  the 
beginning  to  the  end  of  the  word.  In  the  primitive  orthography  it  is 
called  a cloac , which  had  the  same  signification  ; and  still  continues  so 
at  Edinburgh  in  Scotland,  where  a man  in  a cloac , or  cloak,  of  large 
circumierence  and  length,  carrying  a convenient  vessel  under  it,  calls 
out,  as  he  goes  through  the  streets,  “Wha  has  need  of  me?”  What- 
ever customer  calls,  the  vessel  is  placed  in  the  corner  of  the  street ; the 
€loac , or  a cloak,  surrounds  and  covers  him ; and  thus  he  is  eased  with 
decency  and  secrecy. 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


The  second  instance  is  yet  more  remarkable.  The  Latin  word 
turpis  signifies  nasty , or  filthy . Now  this  word  tnrpis  is  a plain  com- 
position of  two  English  words  ; only,  by  a syncope,  the  last  letter  ot 
the  first  syllable,  which  is  d,  is  taken  out  of  the  middle,  to  prevent  the 
jarring  of  three  consonants  together  ; and  these  two  English  words 
express  the  most  unseemly  excrements,  that  belong  to  man. 

But,  although  I could  produce  many  other  examples  equally  con- 
vincing that  the  Hebrews,  the  Greeks,  and  the  Romans  originally  spoke 
the  same  language  which  we  do  at  present,  yet  I have  chosen  to  con- 
fine myself  chiefly  to  the  proper  names  of  persons,  because  I conceive 
they  will  be  of  greater  weight  to  confirm  what  I advance  ; the  ground 
and  reason  of  those  names  being  certainly  owing  to  the  nature,  or  some 
distinguishing  action  or  quality  in  those  persons,  and  consequently 
expressed  in  the  true  ancient  language  of  the  several  people. 

I will  begin  with  the  Grecians,  among  whom  the  most  ancient 
are  the  great  leaders  on  both  sides  in  the  siege  of  Troy  : for  it  is  plain, 
from  Homer,  that  the  Trojans  spoke  Greek  as  well  as  the  Grecians. 
Of  these  latter,  Achilles  was  the  most  valiant.  This  hero  was  of  a 
restless,  unquiet  nature,  never  giving  himself  any  repose  either  in  peace 
or  war  ; and,  therefore,  as  Guy  of  Warwick  was  called  a kill-cow,  and 
another  terrible  man  a kill-devil , so  this  general  was  called  A-kill-ease , 
or  destroyer  of  ease  ; and  at  length,  by  corruption,  Achilles . 

Hector , on  the  other  side,  was  the  bravest  among  the  Trojans.  He 
had  destroyed  so  many  of  the  Greeks  by  hacking  and  tearing  them, 
that  his  soldiers,  when  they  saw  him  fighting,  would  cry  out,  “Now  j 
the  enemy  will  be  hack't , now  he  will  be  tore A At  last,  by  putting 
both  words  together,  this  appellation  was  given  to  their  leader,  under 
the  name  of  Hacktore ; and,  for  the  more  commodious  sounding,  i 
Hector . ' % 

Dio?nedey  another  Grecian  captain,  had  the  boldness  to  fight  with 
Venus,  and  wound  her  ; whereupon  the  goddess,  in  a rage,  ordered  her 
son  Cupid  to  make  this  hero  to  be  hated  by  all  women,  repeating  it 
often  that  he  should  die  a maid  ; from  whence,  by  a small  change  in 
orthography,  he  was  called  Diomede . And  it  is  to  be  observed,  that 
the  term  maiden-head  is  frequently,  at  this  very  day,  applied  to  persons 
of  either  sex. 

Ajax  was,  in  fame,  the  next  Grecian  general  to  Achilles.  The  deri- 
vation of  his  name  from  A jakes , however  asserted  by  great  authors,  is 
in  my  opinion,  very  unworthy  both  of  them  and  of  the  hero  himself.  I 
have  often  wondered  to  see  such  learned  men  mistake  in  so  clear  a j 
point.  This  hero  is  known  to  have  been  a most  intemperate  liver,  as  it 
is  usual  with  soldiers  ; and,  although  he  was  not  old,  yet  by  conversing 
with  camp-strollers,  he  had  got  pains  in  his  bones,  which  he  pretended 
to  his  friends  were  only  age-aches  j but  they  telling  the  story  about  the 
army,  as  the  vulgar  always  confound  right  pronunciation,  he  was  after- 
wards known  by  no  other  name  than  Ajax . 

The  next  I shall  mention  is  Andro7nache , the  famous  wife  of  Hector. 
Her  father  was  a Scotch  gentleman,  of  a noble  family  still  subsisting 
in  that  ancient  kingdom.  But,  being  a foreigner  in  Troy,  to  which  city 
he  led  some  of  his  countrymen  in  the  defence  of  Priam,  as  Dictys  Cre- 
tensis  learnedly  observes,  Hector  tell  in  love  with  his  daughter,  andtha 


ANTIQUITY  OF  ThE  ENGLISH  TONGUE.  449 

father’s  name  was  Andrew  Macftay . The  young  lady  was  called  by 
the  same  name,  only  a little  softened  to  the  Grecian  accent. 

Astyanax,  was  the  son  of  Hector  and  Andromache.  When  Troy  was 
taken,  this  young  prince  had  his  head  cut  off,  and  his  body  thrown  to 
swine.  From  this  fatal  accident  he  had  his  name  ; which  has,  by  a 
peculiar  good  fortune,  been  preserved  entire,  A sty  an  ax. 

Mars  may  be  mentioned  among  these,  because  he  fought  against  the 
Greeks.  He  was  called  the  God  of  war  ; and  is  described  as  a swear- 
ing, swaggering  companion,  and  a great  giver  of  rude  language.  For, 
when  he  was  angry,  he  would  cry,  “ Kiss  my  a — se,  My  a — se  in  a 
bandbox,  My  a — se  all  over  which  he  repeated  so  commonly,  that  he 
got  the  appellation  of  My  a — se;  and  by  a common  abbreviation,  M'ars ; 
from  whence,  by  leaving  out  the  mark  of  elision,  Mars . And  this  is  a 
common  practice  among  us  at  present ; as  in  the  words  D'anvers , 
D’ avenport,  Dauby,  which  are  now  Danvers , Davenport , Dauby,  and 
many  others. 

The  next  is  Hercules , otherwise  called  Alcides . Both  these  names 
are  English,  with  little  alteration  ; and  describe  the  principal  qualities 
of  that  hero,  who  was  distinguished  for  being  a slave  to  his  mistresses, 
and  at  the  same  time  for  his  great  strength  and  courage.  Ojnphale , his 
chief  mistress,  used  to  call  her  lovers  her  cullies  ; and  because  this  hero 
was  more  and  longer  subject  to  her  than  any  other,  he  was  in  a par- 
ticular manner  called  the  chief  of  her  cullies  : which,  by  an  easy  change 
made  the  word  Hercules . His  other  name  Alcides  was  given  him  on 
account  of  his  prowess ; for,  in  fight,  he  used  to  strike  on  all  sides; 
and  was  allowed  on  all  sides  to  be  the  chief  hero  of  his  age.  For  one 
of  which  reasons,  he  was  called  All  sides , or  Alcides  : but  I am  in- 
clined to  favour  the  former  opinion. 

A certain  Grecian  youth  was  a great  imitator  of  Socrates  ; which  that 
philosopher  observing,  with  much  pleasure,  said  to  his  friends,  “ There 
is  an  Ape  o'  mine  own  day  si  After  which  the  young  man  was  called 
Epaminondas,  and  proved  to  be  the  most  virtuous  person,  as  well  as 
the  greatest  general  of  his  age. 

Ucalegon  was  a very  obliging  inn-keeper  of  Troy.  When  a guest  was 
going  to  take  horse,  the  landlord  took  leave  of  him  with  this  compliment, 
“ Sir,  I should  be  glad  to  see  you  call  again I Strangers,  who  knew 
not  his  right  name,  caught  his  last  words  ; and  thus,  by  degrees,  that 
appellation  prevailed,  and  he  was  known  by  no  other  name  even  among* 
his  neighbours,  i 

Hydra  was  a great  serpent,  which  Hercules  slew.  His  usual  out- 
ward garment  was  the  raw  hyde  of  a lion,  and  this  he  had  on  when  he 
attacked  the  serpent ; which,  therefore,  took  its  name  from  the  skin  ; 
the  modesty  of  that  hero  devolving  the  honour  of  his  victory  upon  the 
lion’s  skin,  call  that  enormous  snake  the  Hyde-raw  serpent. 

Leda  was  the  mother  of  Castor  and  Pollux  ; whom  Jupiter  embracing 
in  the  shape  of  a swan,  she  laid  a couple  of  eggs,  and  was  therefore 
called  Laid  a , or  Leda . 

As  to  Jupiter  himself,  it  is  well  known,  that  the  statues  and  pictures 
of  this  heathen  god,  in  Roman  Catholic  countries,  resemble  those  of 
St.  Peter , and  are  often  taken  the  one  for  the  other.  The  reason  is 
manifest : for,  when  the  emperors  had  established  Christianity,  the 

29 


450  * DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS . 

heathens  were  afraid  of  acknowledging  their  heathen  idols  of  the  chief 
God,  and  pretended  it  was  only  a statue  of  the  Jew  Peter . And  thus 
the  principal  heathen  god  came  to  be  called  by  the  ancient  Romans 
with  very  little  alteration,  Jupiter. 

The  Hainadryades  are  represented  by  mistaken  antiquity  as  nymphs 
of  the  groves.  But  the  true  account  is  this  : They  were  women  of  Ca- 
labria, who  dealt  in  bacon  ; and  living  near  the  seaside,  used  to  pickle 
their  bacon  in  salt  water,  and  then  set  it  up  to  dry  in  the  sun.  From 
whence  they  were  properly  called  Ham-a-dry-a-days,  and  in  process  of 
time,  misspelt  Hamadryades . 

Neptune , the  god  of  the  sea,  had  his  name  from  the  tunes  sung  to 
# him  by  the  Tritons , upon  their  shells,  every  neap  or  nep  tide.  The 
word  is  come  down  to  us  almost  uncorrupted,  as  well  as  that  of  Tritons , 
his  servants  ; who,  in  order  to  please  their  master,  used  to  try  all  tones, 
till  they  could  hit  upon  that  he  liked. 

Aristotle , was  a peripatetic  philosopher,  who  used  to  instruct  his 
scholars  while  he  was  walking.  When  the  lads  were  come,  he  would 
arise  to  tell  them  what  he  thought  proper  ; and  was  therefore  called 
arise  to  tell.  But  succeeding  ages,  who  understood  not  this  etymology, 
have,  by  an  absurd  change,  made  it  Aristotle. 

Aristophanes  was  a Greek  comedian,  full  of  levity,  and  gave  himself 
too  much  freedom  ; which  made  graver  people  not  scruple  to  say,  that 
he  had  a great  deal  of  airy  stuff  in  his  writings  : and  these  words,  often 
repeated,  made  succeeding  ages  discriminate  him  Aristophanes . Vide 
Rosin.  Antiq.  1.  iv. 

Alexander  the  Great  was  very  fond  of  eggs  roasted  in  hot  ashes* 
As  soon  as  his  cooks  heard  he  was  come  home  to  dinner  or  supper, 
they  called  aloud  to  their  under-officers, *4//  eggs  under  the  grate;  which, 
repeated  every  day  at  noon  and  evening,  made  strangers  think  it  was 
that  prince’s  real  name,  and  therefore  gave  him  no  other  ; and  posterity 
has  been  ever  since  under  the  same  delusion. 

Pygmalion  was  a person  of  very  low  stature,  but  great  valour,  which 
made  his  townsmen  call  him  Pygmy  lion : and  so  it  should  be  spelt  ; 
although  the  word  has  suffered  less  by  transcribers  than  many  others. 

Archimedes  was  a most  famous  mathematician.  His  studies  required  . 
much  silence  and  quiet : but  his  wife,  having  several  maids,  they  were 
always  disturbing  him  with  their  tattle  or  their  business  ; which  forced 
him  to  come  out  every  now  and  then  to  the  stair-head,  and  cry,  “ Hark 
ye,  maids ; if  you  will  not  be  quiet,  I shall  turn  you  out  of  doors.”  He 
repeated  these  words,  Hark  ye,  maids,  so  often,  that  the  unlucky  jades, 
when  they  found  he  was  at  his  study,  would  say,  u There  is  Hark  ye, 
maids ; let  us  speak  softly.”  Thus  the  name  went  through  the  neigh- 
bourhood ; and,  at  last,  grew  so  general,  that  we  are  ignorant  of  that 
great  man’s  true  name  to  this  day. 

Strabo  was  a famous  geographer ; and  to  improve  his  knowledge, 
travelled  over  several  countries,  as  the  writers  of  his  life  inform  us ; 
who  likewise  add,  that  he  affected  great  nicety  and  finery  in  his  clothes; 
from  whence  people  took  occasion  to  call  him  the  Stray  beau  ; which 
future  ages  have  pinned  down  upon  him,  very  much  to  his  dishonour. 

Peloponnesus , that  famous  Greek  peninsula,  got  its  name  from  a 
Greek  colony  in  Asia  the  Less  ; many  of  whom  going  for  traffic  thither, 


ANTIQUITY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  TONGUE.  451 

and  finding  that  the  inhabitants  had  but  one  well  in  the  town  of  .... , 
from  whence  certain  porters  used  to  carry  the  water  through  the  city 
in  great  pails,  so  heavy  that  they  were  often  forced  to  set  them  down 
for  ease : the  tired  porters,  after  they  had  set  down  the  pails;  and 
wanted  to  take  them  up  again,  would  call  for  assistance  to  those  who 
were  nearest,  in  these  words,  Pail  up , and  ease  us . The  stranger 
Greeks,  hearing  these  words  repeated  a thousand  times  as  they  passed 
the  street,  thought  the  inhabitants  were  pronouncing  the  name  of  their 
country,  which  made  the  foreign  Greeks  call  it  Peloponnesus , a mani- 
fest corruption  of  Pail  up,  and  ease  us. 

Having  mentioned  so  many  Grecians  to  prove  my  hypothesis,  I shall 
not  tire  the  reader  with  producing  an  equal  number  of  Romans,  as  I 
might  easily  do.  Some  few  will  be  sufficient. 

Caesar  was  the  greatest  captain  of  that  empire.  The  word  ought  to 
be  spelt  Seizer,  because  he  seized  on  not  only  most  of  the  known  world, 
but  even  the  liberties  of  his  own  country;  so  that  a more  proper  appel- 
lation could  not  have  been  given  him. 

Cicero  was  a poor  scholar  in  the  university  of  Athens,  wherewith  his 
enemies  in  Rome  used  to  reproach  him  ; and,  as  he  passed  the  streets, 
would  call  out,  O Ciser*  Cisero  / A word  still  used  in  Cambridge,  and 
answers  to  a servitor  in  Oxford. 

# Anibal  was  a sworn  enemy  to  the  Romans,  and  gained  many  glorious 
victories  over  them.  This  name  appears,  at  first  repeating,  to  be  a meta- 
phor drawn  from  tennis,  expressing  a skilful  gamester  who  can  take  any 
ball ; and  is  very  justly  applied  to  so  renowned  a commander.  Navi- 
gators are  led  into  a strange  mistake  upon  this  article.  We  have 
usually  in  our  fleet  some  large  man  of  war,  called  the  Anibal,  with  great 
propriety,  because  it  is  so  strong  that  it  may  defy  any  ball  from  a 
cannon.  And  such  is  the  deplorable  ignorance  of  our  seamen,  that  they 
miscall  it  the  Honey-balL 

Cartago  was  the  most  famous  trading  city  in  the  world  ; where,  in 
every  street,  there  was  many  a cart  a going,  probably  laden  with  mer- 
chant goods.  See  Alexander  ab  Alexandro,  and  Suidas  upon  the  word 

Cartago . 

The  word  Roman  itself  is  perfectly  English,  like  other  words  ending 
in  man  or  men,  as  hangman,  drayman,  huntsman , and  several  others. 
It  was  formerly  spelt  Rowman,  which  is  the  same  with  Waterman 
And  therefore  when  we  read  of  jesta  (or,  as  it  is  corruptly  spelt,  gesta) 
Romanorum,  it  is  to  be  understood  of  the  rough  manner  of  jesting  used 
by  the  watermen  who  upon  the  sides  of  rivers,  would  row  man  dr 
um.  This  I think  is  clear  enough  to  convince  the  most  incredulous. 

Misanthropies  was  the  name  of  an  ill-natured  man,  which  he  ob- 
tained by  a custom  of  catching  a great  number  of  mice,  then  shutting 
them  up  in  a room,  and  throwing  a cat  among  them.  Upon  which 
his  fellow  citizens  called  him  Mice  and  throw  puss . The  reader  ob« 
serves  how  much  the  orthography  has  been  changed,  without  altering 
the  sound  : but  such  depravations  we  owe  to  the  injury  of  time,  and 
gross  ignorance  of  transcribers. 

Among  the  ancients,  fortune-telling  by  the  stars  was  a very  beggarly 
trade.  The  professors  lay  upon  straw,  and  their  cabins  were  covered 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


453 

with  the  same  materials,  whence  every  one  who  followed  that  mystery 
was  called  A straw  lodger,  or  a lodger  in  straw  ; but,  in  the  new- 
fangled way  of  spelling.  Astrologer . 

It  is  remarkable  that  the  very  word  diphthong  is  wholly  English.  In 
former  times,  schoolboys  were  chastised  with  thongs  fastened  at  the 
head  of  a stick.  It  was  observed  that  young  lads  were  much  puzzled 
with  spelling  and  pronouncing  words  where  two  vowels  came  together, 
and  were  often  corrected  for  their  mistakes  in  that  point.  Upon  these 
occasions  the  master  would  dip  his  thongs  (as  we  now  do  rods)  in 
p — , which  made  that  difficult  union  of  vowels  to  be  called  diphthong . 

Bucephalus,  the  famous  horse  of  Alexander,  was  so  called  because  there 
were  many  grooms  employed  about  him,  which  fellows  were  always  busy 
in  their  office  ; and  because  the  horse  had  so  many  busy  fellows  about 
him.  it  was  natural  for  those  who  went  to  the  stable  to  say,  “ Let  us  go  to 
the  busy  fellows  f by  which  they  meant,  to  see  that  prince’s  horse. 
And  in  process  of  time,  these  words  were  absurdly  applied  to  the 
animal  itself,  which  was  thenceforth  styled  Busy  fellows , and  very 
improperly  Bucephalus. 

I shall  now  bring  a few  proofs  of  the  same  kind  to  convince  my 
readers  that  our  English  was  well  known  to  the  Jews. 

Moses,  the  great  leader  of  those  people  out  of  Egypt,  was  in  pro- 
priety of  speech  called  mow  seas,  because  he  mowed  the  seas  down  in 
the  middle  to  make  a path  for  the  Israelites. 

Abraham  was  a person  of  strong  bones  and  sinews,  and  a firm 
walker,  which  made  the  people  say,  “ He  was  a man  (in  the  Scotch 
phrase,  which  comes  nearest  to  the  old  Saxon)  of  a braw  ham  f that  is  of  « 
a brave  strong  ham,  from  whence  he  acquired  his  name. 

The  man  whom  the  Jews  called  Balaam  was  a shepherd ; who,  by 
often  crying  ba  to  his  lambs,  was  therefore  called  Baa-lamb,  or  Balaajn.  t 

Isaac  is  nothing  else  but  Eyes  ache  : because  the  Talmudists  report 
that  he  had  a pain  in  his  eyes.  Vide  Ben  Gouion  and  the  Targum  on 
Genesis. 

Thus  I have  manifestly  proved  that  the  Greeks,  the  Romans,  and  the 
Jews  spoke  the  language  we  now  do  in  England  ; which  is  an  honour 
to  our  country  that  I thought  proper  to  set  in  a true  light,  and  yet  has 
not  been  done,  as  I have  heard,  by  any  other  writer. 

And  thus  1 have  ventured  (perhaps  too  temerariously)  to  contribute 
my  mite  to  the  learned  world,  from  whose  candour  I may  hope  to  \ 
receive  some  approbation.  It  may  probably  give  me  encouragement 
to  proceed  on  some  other  speculations,  if  possible,  of  greater  import- 
ance than  what  I now  offer  ; and  which  have  been  the  labour  of  many 
years,  as  well  as  of  constant  watchings,  that  I might  be  uselul  to  man- 
kind, and  particularly  to  mine  own  country. 


( 453  > 


THE  WONDERFUL  WONDER  OF  WONDERS, 

THERE  is  a certain  person  lately  arrived  at  this  city,  Gf  whom  it  is 
very  proper  the  world  should  be  informed.  His  character  may 
perhaps  be  thought  very  inconsistent,  improbable,  and  unnatural ; 
however,  I intend  to  draw  it  with  the  utmost  regard  to  truth.  This  I 
am  the  better  qualified  to  do,  because  he  is  a sort  of  dependent  upon  our 
family,  and  almost  of  the  same  age  ; though  I cannot  directly  say  I 
have  ever  seen  him.  He  is  a nacive  of  this  country,  and  has  lived  long 
among  us  ; but,  what  appears  wonderful  and  hardly  credible,  was  never 
seen  before  by  any  mortal. 

It  is  true,  indeed,  he  always  chooses  the  lowest  place  in  company  ; 
and  contrives  it  so,  to  keep  out  of  sight.  It  is  reported,  however,  that 
in  his  younger  days  he  was  frequently  exposed  to  view,  but  always 
against  his  will,  and  was  sure  to  smart  for  it. 

As  to  his  family,  he  came  into  the  world  a younger  brother,  being  of 
six  children  the  fourth  in  order  of  birth  ;*  of  which  the  eldest  is  now 
head  of  the  house  ; the  second  and  third  carry  arms,  but  the  two 
youngest  are  only  footmen ; some  indeed  add  that  he  has  likewise  a 
twin  brother,  who  lives  over  against  him,  and  keeps  a victualling 
house  ;+  he  has  the  reputation  to  be  a close,  griping,  squeezing  fellow  ; * 

and  that  when  his  bags  are  full  he  is  often  needy ; yet,  when  the  fit 
takes  him,  as  fast  as  he  gets  he  lets  it  fly. 

When  in  office,  no  one  discharges  himself,  or  does  his  business 
better.  He  has  sometimes  strained  hard  for  an  honest  livelihood ; and 
never  got  a bit  till  everybody  else  had  done. 

One  practice  appears  very  blameable  in  him;  that  every  morning  he 
privately  frequents  unclean  houses,  where  any  modest  person  would 
blush  to  be  seen.  And  although  this  be  generally  known,  yet  the 
world,  as  censorious  as  it  is,  has  been  so  kind  to  overlook  this 
infirmity  in  him.  To  deal  impartially,  it  must  be  granted  that  he  is 
too  great  a lover  of  himself,  and  very  often  consults  his  own  ease  at  the 
expense  of  his  best  friends  ; but  this  is  one  of  his  blind  sides  ; and  the 
best  of  men  I fear  are  not  without  them. 

He  has  been  constituted  by  the  higher  powers  in  the  station  of  re- 
ceiver general,  in  which  employment  some  have  censured  him  for 
playing  fast  and  loose.  He  is  likewise  overseer  of  the  golden  mines, 
which  he  daily  inspects  when  his  health  will  permit  him. 

He  was  long  bred  under  a master  of  arts,J  who  instilled  good  prin- 
ciples into  him,  but  these  were  soon  corrupted.  I know  not  whether 
this  deserves  mention,  that  he  is  so  very  capricious  as  to  take  it  for  an 
equal  affront  to  talk  either  of  kissing  or  kicking  him,  which  has  occa- 
sioned a thousand  quarrels  ; however,  nobody  was  ever  so  great  a 
sufferer  for  faults,  which  he  neither  was,  nor  possibly  could  be  guilty  of. 

In  his  religion,  he  has  thus  much  of  the  Quaker  that  he  stands 

* He  alludes  to  the  manner  of  our  birth,  the  head  and  arms  appear  before 
the  posteriors  and  the  two  feet,  which  he  calls  the  footmen, 
t The  belly,  which  receives  and  digests  our  nourishment. 

$ Persius  : magisler  art.  s,ingeniique  largitvr  venter. 


454 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


always  covered  even  in  the  presence  of  the  King  5 in  most  other  points 
a perfect  idolater,*  although  he  endeavours  to  conceal  it ; for  he  is 
known  to  offer  daily  sacrifices  to  certain  subterraneous  nymphs,  whom 
he  worships  in  an  humble  posture  prone  on  his  face,  and  stript  stark 
naked  ; and  so  leaves  his  offerings  behind  him,  which  the  priestsf  of 
those  goddesses  are  careful  enough  to  remove,  upon  certain  seasons, 
with  the  utmost  privacy  at  midnight,  and  from  thence  maintain  them- 
selves and  families.  In  all  urgent  necessities  and  pressures,  he  applies 
himself  to  these  deities,  and  sometimes  even  in  the  streets  and  high- 
ways, from  an  opinion  that  those  powers  have  an  influence  in  all  places, 
although  their  peculiar  residence  be  in  caverns  underground.  U pon 
these  occasions,  the  fairest  ladies  will  not  refuse  to  lend  their  hands  to 
assist  him ; for,  although  they  are  ashamed  to  have  him  seen  in  their 
company,  or  even  so  much  as  to  hear  him  named,  yet  it  is  well  known 
that  he  is  one  of  their  constant  followers. 

In  politics,  he  always  submits  to  what  is  uppermost ; but  he  peruses 
pamphlets  on  both  sides  with  great  impartiality,  though  seldom  till 
everybody  else  has  done  with  them. 

His  learning  is  of  a mixed  kind,  and  he  may  properly  be  called  a 
helluo  librorum,  or  another  Jacobus  de  Voragine,  though  his  studies 
are  chiefly  confined  to  schoolmen,  commentators,  and  German  divines, 
together  with  modern  poetry  and  critics  ; and  he  is  an  atomic  philoso- 
pher, strongly  maintaining  a void  in  nature,  which  he  seemS  to  hava 
fairly  proved  by  many  experiments. 

I shall  now  proceed  to  describe  some  peculiar  qualities,  which,  in 
several  instances,  seem  to  distinguish  this  person  from  the  common  ! 
race  of  other  mortals. 

His  grandfather  was  a member  of  the  rump  parliament,  as  the 
grandson  is  of  the  present,  where  he  often  rises,  sometimes  grumbles,  * 
but  never  speaks.  However,  he  lets  nothing  pass  willingly,  but  what 
is  well  digested.  His  courage  is  indisputable,  for  he  will  take  the 
boldest  man  alive  by  the  nose. 

He  is  generally  the  first  abed  in  the  family,  and  the  last  up ; which  j 
is  to  be  lamented,  because,  when  he  happens  to  rise  before  tne  rest,  it 
has  been  thought  to  forebode  some  good  fortune  to  his  superiors. 

As  wisdom  is  acquired  by  age,  so,  by  every  new  wrinkle?  in  his  face, 
he  is  reported  to  gain  some  new  knowledge. 

In  him  we  may  observe  the  true  effects  and  consequences  of  tyranny 
in  a state,  for,  as  he  is  a great  oppressor  of  all  below  him,  so  there  is 
nobody  more  oppressed  by  those  above  him  ; yet,  in  his  time,  he  has 
been  so  highly  in  favour,  that  many  illustrious  persons  have  been 
entirely  indebted  to  him  for  their  preferments. 

He  has  discovered,  from  his  own  experience,  the  true  point  wherein 
all  human  actions,  projects,  and  designs  do  chiefly  terminate ; and 
how  mean  and  sordid  they  are  at  the  bottom. 

* Alludes  to  the  sacrifices  offered  by  the  Romans  to  the  goddess  Cloacina. 

f Gold-finders,  who  perform  their  office  in  the  night  time  ; but  our  author 
further  seems  to  have  an  eye  to  the  custom  of  the  heathen  priests  stealing  he 
offerings  in  the  night ; of  which  see  more  in  the  story  of  Bel  and  the  Dragon. 

? This  refers  to  a proverb — you  have  one  wrinkle  in  your  a-se  more  than  yon 
had  before. 


THE  WONDER  OF  WONDERS.  45  J 

It  behoves  the  public  to  keep  him  qiyet ; for  his  frequent  murmurs 
are  a certain  sign  of  intestine  tumults. 

No  philosopher  ever  lamented  more  the  luxury  for  which  these 
nations  are  so  justly  taxed ; it  has  been  known  to  cost  him  tears  of 
blood,*  for  in  his  own  nature  he  is  far  from  being  profuse,  though, 
indeed,  he  never  stays  a night  at  a gentleman's  house  without  leaving 
something  behind  him.  * 

He  receives  with  great  submission  whatever  his  patrons  think  fit  to 
give  him  ; and  when  they  lay  heavy  burdens  upon  him,  which  is  fre- 
quently enough,  he  gets  rid  of  them  as  soon  as  he  can  ; but  not  without 
some  labour  and  much  grumbling. 

He  is  a perpetual  hanger-on,  yet  nobody  knows  how  to  be  without 
him.  He  patiently  suffers  himself  to  be  kept  under,  but  loves  to  be 
well  used,  and  in  that  case  will  sacrifice  his  vitals  to  give  you  ease ; 
and  he  has  hardly  one  acquaintance,  for  whom  he  has  not  been  bound, 
yet,  as  far  as  we  can  find,  was  never  known  to  lose  anything  by  it. 

He  is  observed  to  be  very  unquiet  in  the  company  of  a Frenchman 
in  new  clothes,  or  a young  coquette. 

He  is,  in  short,  the.  subject  of  much  mirth  and  raillery,  which  he 
seems  to  take  well  enough  ; though  it  has  not  been  observed  that  ever 
any  good  thing  came  from  himself. 

There  is  so  general  an  opinion  of  his  justice,  that  sometimes  very 
hard  cases  are  left  to  his  decision  ; and  while  he  sits  upon  them  he 
carries  himself  exactly  even  between  both  sides,  except  where  some 
knotty  point  arises  ; and  then  he  is  observed  to  lean  a little  to  the 
right  or  left,  as  the  matter  inclines  him  ; but  his  reasons  for  it  are  so 
manifest  and  convincing  that  every  man  approves  them. 

POSTSCRIPT. 

GENTLE  Reader, — Though  I am  not  insensible  how  many  thou- 
sand persons  have  been,  and  still  are,  with  great  dexterity  handling  this 
subject,  and  no  less  aware  of  what  infinite  reams  of  paper  have  been 
laid  out  upon  it ; however,  in  my  opinion,  no  man  living  has  touched 
it  with  greater  nicety,  and  more  delicate  turns  than  our  author.  But, 
because  there  is  some  intended  obscurity  in  this  relation  ; and  curiosity, 
inquisitive  of  secrets,  may  possibly  not  enter  into  the  bottom  and  depth 
of  the  subject,  it  was  thought  not  improper  to  take  off  the  veil,  and  gain 
the  reader's  favour  by  enlarging  his  insight.  Ars  enim  non  habet 
inimicum , nisi  ignorantem . It  is  well  known  that  it  ha^s  been  the  policy 
of  all  times,  to  deliver  down  important  subjects  by  emblem  and  riddle, 
and  not  to  suffer  the  knowledge  of  truth  to  be  derived  to  us  in  plain 
and  simple  terms,  which  are  generally  as  soon  forgotten  as  conceived. 
For  this  reason,  the  heathen  religion  is  mostly  couched  under  mytho- 
logy. For  the  like  reason  (this  being  a fundamental  in  its  kind)  the 
author  has  thought  fit  to  wrap  up  his  treasure  in  clean  linen,  which  it 
is  our  business  to  lay  open,  and  set  in  a due  light ; for  I have  observed, 

# Hemorrnoids,  according  to  the  physicians,  are  a frequent  consequence  ol 
•intemperance. 

1 Their  tails  being  generally  observed  to  be  most  restless. 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


456 

upon  any  accidental  discovery,  the  least  glimpse  has  given  a great 
diversion  to  the  eager  spectator,  as  many  ladies  could  testify,  were  it 
proper,  or  the  case  would  admit. 

The  politest  companies  have  vouchsafed  to  smile  at  the  bare  name  ; 
and  some  people  of  fashion  have  been  so  little  scrupulous  of  bringing 
it  in  play,  that  it  was  the  usual  saying  of  a knight  and  a man  of  good 
breeding,  that  whenever  he  rose,  his  a-se  rose  with  him. 


THE 

WONDER  OF  ALL  THE  WONDERS. 

THAT  EVER  THE 

* WORLD  WONDERED  AT. 

FOR  ALL  PERSONS  OF  QUALITY  AND  OTHERS* 

NEWLY  arrived  at  this  city  of  Dublin,  the  famous  artist,  John 
Emanuel  Schoitz,  who,  to  the  great  surprise  and  satisfaction  of 
all  spectators,  is  ready  to  do  the  following  wonderful  performances  ; the 
like  before  never  seen  in  this  kingdom. 

He  will  heat  a bar  of  iron  red  hot,  and  thrust  it  into  a barrel  of  gun- 
powder before  all  the  company,  and  yet  it  shall  not  take  fire. 

He  lets  any  gentleman  charge  a blunderbuss  with  the  same  gun- 
powder, and  twelve  leaden  bullets,  which  blunderbuss  the  said  artist 
discharges  full  in  the  face  of  the  said  company,  without  the  least  hurt, 
the  bullets  sticking  in  the  wall  behind  them. 

He  takes  any  gentleman’s  own  sword,  and  runs  it  through  the  said 
gentleman’s  body,  so  that  the  point  appears  bloody  at  the  back  to  all 
the  spectators  ; then  he  takes  out  the  sword,  wipes  it  clean,  and  re- 
turns it  to  the  owner,  who  receives  no  manner  of  hurt. 

He  takes  a pot  of  scalding  oil,  and  throws  it  by  great  ladlefuls 
directly  at  the  ladies,  without  spoiling  their  clothes  or  burning  their 
skins. 

He  takes  any  person  of  quality’s  child  from  two  years  old  to  six,  and 
lets  the  child’s  own  father  or  mother  take  a pike  in  their  hands  ; then 
the  artist  takes  the  child  in  his  arms,  and  tosses  it  upon  the  point  of 
the  pike,  where  it  sticks  to  the  great  satisfaction  of  all  spectators  ; and 
is  then  taken  off  without  so  much  as  a hole  in  his  coat. 

He  mounts  u)3on  a scaffold  just  over  the  spectators,  and  from  thence 
throws  down  a great  quantity  of  large  tiles  and  stones,  which  fall  like 
so  many  pillows,  without  so  much  as  discomposing  either  perukes  or 
headdresses. 

He  takes  any  person  of  quality  up  to  the  said  scaffold,  which  person 
pulls  off  his  shoes,  and  leaps  nine  foot  directly  down  on  a board  pre- 
pared on  purpose,  full  of  sharp  spikes  six  inches  long,  without  hurting 
his  feet  or  damaging  his  stockings. 

He  places  the  said  board  on  a chair,  upon  which  al?dy  sits  down 
with  another  lady  in  her  lap,  while  the  spikes,  instead  of  entering  into* 
the  under  lady’s  flesh,  will  feel  like  a velvet  cushion. 


THE  WONDER  OF  ALL  THE  WONDERS. 


457 


He  takes  any  person  of  quality’s  footman,  ties  a rope  about  his  bare 
neck,  and  draws  him  up  by  pullies  to  the  ceiling,  and  there  keeps  him 
hanging  as  long  as  his  master  or  the  company  pleases,  the  said  footman, 
to  the  wonder  and  delight  of  all  beholders,  having  a pot  of  ale  in  one 
hand  and  a pipe  in  the  other  ; and  when  he  is  let  down,  there  will  not 
appear  the  least  mark  of  the  cord  about  his  neck. 

He  bids  a lady’s  maid  put  her  finger  into  a cup  of  clear  liquor  like 
water,  upon  which  her  face  and  both  her  hands  are  immediately 
withered  like  an  old  woman  of  fourscore  ; her  belly  swells  as  if  she 
were  within  a week  of  her  time,  and  her  legs  are  as  thick  as  millposts  : 
but  upon  putting  her  finger  into  another  cup  she  becomes  as  young  and 
handsome  as  she  was  before. 

He  gives  any  gentleman  leave  to  drive  forty  twelvepenny  nails  up  to 
the  head  in  a porter’s  backside,  and  then  places  the  said  porter  on  a 
loadstone  chair,  which  draws  out  every  nail,  and  the  porter  feels  no 
pain. 

He  likewise  draws  the  teeth  of  half  a dozen  gentlemen,  mixes  and 
jumbles  them  in  a hat,  gives  any  person  leave  to  blindfold  him,  and 
returns  each  their  own,  and  fixes  them  as  well  as  ever. 

With  his  forefinger  and  thumb,  he  thrusts  several  gentlemen’s  and 
ladies’  eyes  out  of  their  heads  without  the  least  pain,  at  which  time 
they  see  an  unspeakable  number  of  beautiful  colours  ; and  after  they 
are  entertained  to  the  full,  he  places  them  again  in  their  proper  sockets, 
without  any  damage  to  the  sight. 

He  lets  any  gentleman  drink  a quart  of  hot  melted  lead,  and  by  a 
draught  of  prepared  liquor,  of  which  he  takes  part  himself,  he  makes 
the  said  lead  pass  through  the  said  gentleman,  before  all  the 
spectators,  without  any  damage  ; after  which  it  is  produced  in  a cake 
to  the  company. 

With  many  other  wonderful  performances  of  art,  too  tedious  here  to 
mention. 

The  said  artist  has  performed  before  most  kings  and  princes  in 
Europe  with  great  applause. 

He  performs  everyday  (except  Sundays)  from  ten  of  the  clock  to  one 
in  the  forenoon  ; and  from  four  till  seven  in  the  evening,  at  the  New 
Inn  in  Smithfield. 

The  first  seat  a British  crown,  the  second  a British  half-crown,  and 
the  lowest  a British  shilling. 

N.  B.— The  best  hands  in  town  are  to  play  at  the  said  show* 


( 459  ) 


MISCELLANIES  IN  VERSE. 


WRITTEN  IN  A LADY'S  IVORY  TABLE-BOOI^ 
1698. 

PERUSE  my  leaves  through  every  part, 

And  think  thou  seest  my  owner’s  heart, 
Scrawl’d  o’er  with  trifles  thus,  and  quite 
As  hard,  as  senseless,  and  as  light ; 

Exposed  to  every  coxcomb’s  eyes, 

But  hid  with  caution  from  the  wise. 

Here  you  may  read,  “ Dear  charming  saint  f 

Beneath  “ A new  receipt  for  paint 

Here,  in  beau-spelling,  “ Tru  tel  deth 

There,  in  her  own,  “For  an  el  breth 

Here,  “ Lovely  nymph,  pronounce  my  doom  i* 

There,  “ A safe  way  to  use  perfume 

Here,  a page  fill’d  with  billets-doux  ; 

On  t’other  side,  “ Laid  out  for  shoes 
4*  Madam,  I die  without  your  grace”— 

* Item,  for  half  a yard  of  lace.” 

Who  that  had  wit  would  place  it  here* 

For  every  peeping  fop  to  jeer? 

To  think  that  your  brains'  issue  is 
Exposed  to  th’  excrement  of  his, 

In  power  of  spittle  and  a clout, 

Whene’er  he  please  to  blot  it  out  5 
And  then,  to  heighten  the  disgracef 
Clap  his  own  nonsense  in  the  placet 
Whoe’er  expects  to  hold  his  part 
In  such  a book,  and  such  a hearty 
If  he  be  wealthy,  and  a fool. 

Is  in  all  points  the  fittest  tool ; 

Of  whom  it  may  be  justly  said, 

He’s  a gold  pencil  tipp’d  with  lead. 


460 


LEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


TO  MRS.  BIDDY  FLOYD  5 

OR,  THE  RECEIPT  TO  FORM  A BEAUTY,  I70& 


HEN  Cupid  did  his  grandsire  Jove  entreat 


To  form  some  Beauty  by  a new  receipt, 
Jove  sent,  and  found,  far  in  a country  scene, 
Truth,  innocence,  good  nature,  look  serene  : 
From  which  ingredients  first  the  dextrous  boy 
Pick’d  the  demure,  the  awkward,  and  the  coy. 
The  Graces,  from  the  court  did  next  provide 
Breeding,  and  wit,  and  air,  and  decent  pride  : 
These  Venus  cleans  from  every  spurious  grain 
Of  nice,  coquet,  affected,  pert,  and  vain. 

Jove  mix’d  up  all,  and  the  best  clay  employ’d  5 
Then  call’d  the  happy  composition  FLOYD. 


VANBRUGH’S  HOUSE, 

BUILT  FROM  THE  RUINS  OF  WHITEHALL  THAT  WAS  BURNT,  I703 


IN  times  of  old,  when  Time  was  young, 
And  Poets  their  own  verses  sung, 

A verse  would  draw  a stone  or  beam, 
That  now  would  overload  a team  ; 

Lead  them  a dance  of  many  a mile, 

Then  rear  them  to  a goodly  pile. 

Each  number  had  its  different  power  1 
Heroic  strains  could  build  a tower ; 
Sonnets,  or  elegies  to  Chloris, 

Might  raise  a house  about  two  stories  ; 
A*lyric  ode  would  slate  ; a catch 
Would  tile  ; an  epigram  would  thatch. 

But,  to  their  own  or  landlord’s  cost, 
Now  Poets  feel  this  art  is  lost. 

Not  one  of  all  our  tuneful  throng 
Can  raise  a lodging  for  a song. 

For  Jove  consider’d  well  the  case, 
Observed  they  grew  a numerous  race : 
And  should  they  build  as  fast  as  write, 
'T would  ruin  undertakers  quite. 

This  evil  therefore  to  pi  event, 

He  wisely  changed  their  element : 

On  earth  the  God  of  Wealth  was  made 
Sole  patron  of  the  building  trade  ; 
Leaving  the  Wits  the  spacious  air, 

With  licence  to  build  castles  there  : 

And  ’tis  conceived,  their  old  pretence 
To  lodge  in  garrets  comes  from  thence. 
Premising  thus,  in  modern  way, 

The  better  half  we  have  to  say  ; 

Sing,  Muse,  the  house  of  poet  Van, 

In  higher  strains  than  we  began. 


VANBRLGtTS  HOUSE. 

Van  (for  ’tis  fit  the  reader  know  ») 

Is  both  a Herald  * and  a Poet ; 

No  wonder  then  if  nicely  skill’d 
In  both  capacities  to  build. 

As  Herald,  he  can  in  a day 
Repair  a house  gone  to  decay  ; 

Or,  by  achievement,  arms,  device^ 

Erect  a new  one  in  a trice  ; 

And  as  a Poet,  he  has  skill 
To  build  in  speculation  still. 

“ Great  Jove  !”  he  cried,  “ the  art  restore 
To  build  by  verse  as  heretofore, 

And  make  my  Muse  the  architect ; 

What  palaces  shall  we  erect  ! 

No  longer  shall  forsaken  Thames 
Lament  his  old  Whitehall  in  flames  ; 

A pile  shall  from  its  ashes  rise, 

Fit  to  invade  or  prop  the  skies.” 

Jove  smiled,  and  like  a gentle  god* 
Consenting  with  the  usual  nod, 

Told  Van,  he  knew  his  talent  best, 

And  left  the  choice  to  his  own  breast* 

So  Van  resolved  to  write  a farce  ; 

But  well  perceiving  wit  was  scarce, 

With  cunning  that  defect  supplies  : 

Takes  a French  play  as  lawful  prize  ; 

Steals  thence  his  plot  and  every  joke, 

Not  once  suspecting  Jove  would  smoke  } 

And  (like  a wag  set  down  to  write) 

Would  whisper  to  himself  “ A bite? 

Then,  from  this  motley  mingled  styles 
Proceeded  to  erect  his  pile. 

So  men  of  old  to  gain  renown,  did 
Build  Babel  with  their  tongues  confounded, 
Jove  saw  the  cheat,  but  thought  it  best 
To  turn  the  matter  to  a jest  : 

Down  from  Olympus’  top  he  slides, 

Laughing  as  if  he’d  burst  his  sides  : 

Ay,  thought  the  god,  are  these  your  tricks? 
Why  then  old  plays  deserve  old  bricks  ; 

And  since  you’re  sparing  of  your  stuff, 

Your  building  shall  be  small  enough. 

He  spake,  and  grudging,  lent  his  aid  ; 

Th’  experienced  bricks,  that  knew  their  trader 
(As  being  bricks  at  second-hand) 

Now  move,  and  now  in  order  stand* 

The  building,  as  the  Poet  writ, 

Rose  in  proportion  to  his  wit : 


*6ir  John  Vanbrugh  held  the  office  of  Clarencieux  king  of  arms. 


LEAK  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


And  first  the  prologue  built  a wall ; 

So  wide  as  to  encompass  all. 

The  scene,  a wood,  produced  no  mors 
Than  a few  scrubby  trees  before. 

The  plot  as  yet  lay  deep  ; and  so 
A cellar  next  was  dug  below  : 

But  this  a work  so  hard  was  found. 

Two  acts  it  cost  him  under  ground*. 

Two  other  acts,  we  may  presume, 

Were  spent  in  building  each  a room ; 

Thus  far  advanced,  he  made  a shift 
To  raise  the  roof  with  act  the  fifth. 

The  epilogue  behind  did  frame 
A place  not  decent  here  to  name. 

Now  Poets  from  all  quarters  ran 
To  see  the  house  of  brother  Van  : 

Look’d  high  and  low,  walk’d  often  round  f 
But  no  such  house  was  to  be  found. 

One  asks  the  watermen  hard  by, 
u Where  may  the  Poet’s  palace  lie 
Another  of  the  Thames  inquires. 

If  he  had  seen  its  gilded  spires  ? 

At  length  they  in  the  rubbish  spy 
A thing  resembling  a goose-pie. 

Thither  in  haste  the  poets  throng, 

And  gaze  in  silent  wonder  long. 

Till  one  in  raptures  thus  began 
To  praise  the  pile  and  builder  Van  : 

“ Thrice  happy  poet  1 who  may’st  trail 
Thy  house  about  thee  like  a snail ; 

Or,  harness’d  to  a nag,  at  ease 
Take  journeys  in  it  like  a chaise ; 

Or  in  a boat  whene’er  thou  wilt, 

Canst  make  it  serve  thee  for  a tilt ! 

Capacious  house ! ’tis  own’d  by  all 
Thou’rt  well  contrived,  though  thou  art  small  5 
For  every  Wit  in  Britain’s  isle 
May  lodge  within  thy  spacious  pile. 

Like  Bacchus  thou,  as  Poets  feign, 

Thy  mother  burnt,  art  born  again, 

Born  like  a phoenix  from  the  flame  ; 

But  neither  bulk  nor  shape  the  same ; 

As  animals  of  larger  size 

Corrupt  to  maggots,  worms  and  flies ; 

A type  of  modern  wit  and  style, 

The  rubbish  of  an  ancient  pile  ; 

So  chemists  boast  they  have  a power, 

From  the  dead  ashes  of  a flower 
Some  faint  resemblance  to  produce* 

But  on  the  virtue,  taste,  or  juice. 


VANBRUGH'S  HOUSE, 


463 


So  modern  rhymers  wisely  blast 
The  poetry  of  ages  past ; 

Which,  after  they  have  overthrown. 

They  from  its  ruins  build  their  own.* 

THE  HISTORY  OF  VANBRUGH’S  HOUSE. 
1708. 

WHEN  mother  Clud  had  rose  from  play. 
And  call’d  to  take  the  cards  away, 

Van  saw,  but  seem’d  not  to  regard, 

How  Miss  pick’d  every  painted  card, 

And  busy  with  both  hand  and  eye, 

Soon  rear’d  a house  two  stories  high. 

Van’s  genius,  without  thought  or  lecture, 

Is  hugely  turn’d  to  architecture  : 

He  view’d  the  edifice,  and  smiled, 

Vow’d  it  was  pretty  for  a child  : 

It  was  so  perfect  in  its  kind, 

He  kept  the  model  in  his  mind. 

But,  when  he  found  the  boys  at  play. 

And  saw  them  dabbling  in  their  clay, 

He  stood  behind  a stall  to  lurk, 

And  mark  the  progress  of  their  work  ; 

With  true  delight  observed  them  all 
Raking  up  mud  to  build  a wall. 

The  plan  he  mtich  admired,  and  took 
The  model  in  his  table-book  : 

Thought  himself  now  exactly  skill’d, 

And  so  resolved  a house  to  build  : 

A real  house,  with  rooms,  and  stairs. 

Five  times  at  least  as  big  as  theirs  ; 

Taller  than  Miss’s  by  two  yards  ; 

Not  a sham  thing  of  clay  or  cards  : 

And  so  he  did  : for  in  a while, 

He  built  up  such  a monstrous  pile, 

That  no  two  chairmen  could  be  found 
Able  to  lift  it  from  the  ground. 

Still  at  Whitehall  it  stands  in  view, 

Just  in  the  place  where  first  it  grew  : 

There  all  the  little  schoolboys  run. 

Envying  to  see  themselves  outdone. 

From  such  deep  rudiments  as  these, 

Van  is  become,  by  due  degrees, 

For  building  famed,  and  justly  reckon’d, 

At  court,  Vitruvius  the  second  : 

No  wonder,  since  wise  authors  show, 

That  best  foundation  must  be  low  : 

And  now  the  duke  has  wisely  ta’en  hint 
To  be  his  architect  at  Blenheim. 


<6* 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


But,  raillery  at  once  apart, 

If  this  rule  holds  in  every  art ; 

Or  if  his  grace  were  no  more  skill’d  in 
The  art  of  battering  walls  than  buildings 
We  might  expect  to  see  next  year 
A mouse-trap  man  chief  engineer. 


MRS.  FRANCES  HARRIS’S  PETITION. 

1700. 

TO  their  excellencies  the  Lords  Justices  of  Ireland,® 

The  humble  petition  of  Frances  Harris, 

Who  must  starve  and  die  a maid  if  it  miscarries  ; 

Humbly  sheweth,  that  I went  to  warm  myself  in  Lady  Betty’s  f cham- 
ber, because  I was  cold  ; 

And  I had  in  a purse  seven  pounds,  four  shillings,  and  sixpence,  besides 
farthings,  in  money  and  gold  ; 

So  because  I had  been  buying  things  for  my  lady  last  night, 

I was  resolved  to  tell  my  money,  to  see  if  it  was  right. 

Now,  you  must  know,  because  my  trunk  has  a very  bad  lock, 

Therefore  all  the  money  I have,  which,  God  knows,  is  a very  small 
stock, 

I keep  in  my  pocket,  tied  about  my  middle,  next  my  smock. 

So  when  I went  to  put  up  my  purse,  as  God  would  have  it,  my  smock 
was  unripp’d, 

And  instead  of  putting  it  into  my  pocket,  down  it  slipp’d  ; 

Then  the  bell  rung,  and  I went  down  to  put  my  lady  to  bed  ; 

And,  God  knows,  I thought  my  money  was  as  safe  as  my  maiden- 
head. 

So,  when  I came  up  again,  I found  my  pocket  feel  very  light ; 

But  when  I search’d,  and  miss’d  my  purse,  Lord ! I thought  I should 
have  sunk  outright. 

“ Lord  ! madam,”  says  Mary,  “how  d’ye  do?” — “Indeed,”  says  I, 
“ never  worse: 

But  pray,  Mary,  can  you  tell  me  what  I have  done  with  my 
purse  ?” 

“ Lord  help  me  !”  says  Mary,  “ I never  stirr’d  out  of  this  place  !” 

“ Nay,”  said  I,  “ I had  it  in  Lady  Betty’s  chamber,  that’s  a plain 
case.” 

So  Mary  got  me  to  bed,  and  cover’d  me  up  warm: 

However,  she  stole  away  my  garters,  that  I might  do  myself  no 
harm. 

So  I tumbled  and  toss’d  all  night,  as  you  may  very  well  think, 

But  hardly  ever  set  my  eyes  together,  or  slept  a wink. 

• The  Earls  of  Berkeley  and  of  Galway. 

♦ Lady  Betty  Berkeley,  afterwards  Gennaia. 


MRS.  HARRIS'S  PETITION.  465 

So  I was  a dream’d,  methought,  that  we  went  and  search’d  the 
folks  round, 

And  in  a corner  of  Mrs.  Dukes’s*  box,  tied  in  a rag,  the  money 
was  found.  % 

So  next  morning  we  told  Whittlef,  and  he  fell  a swearing: 

Then  my  dame  WadgarJ  came  ; and  she,  you  know,  is  thick  of 
hearing. 

“ Dame,”  said  I,  as  loud  as  I could  bawl,  “ do  you  know  what  a loss  1 
have  had  ?” 

u Nay,”  said  she,  “ my  Lord  Colway’s§  folks  are  all  very  sad: 

For  my  Lord  Dromedary||  comes  a Tuesday  without  fail.” 

“Pugh  !”  said  I,  “but  that’s  not  the  business  that  I ail.” 

Says  Cary, IT  says  he,  “ I have  been  a servant  this  five  and  twenty  years, 
come  spring, 

And  in  all  the  places  I lived  I never  heard  of  such  a thing.” 

“ Yes,”  says  the  steward,**  “ I remember  when  I was  at  my  Lady 
Shrewsbury’s. 

Such  a thing  as  this  happen’d,  just  about  the  time  of  gooseberries? 

So  I went  to  the  party  suspected,  and  I found  her  full  of  grief : 

(Now,  you  must  know,  of  all  things  in  the  world,  I hate  a thief:) 
However,  I was  resolved  to  bring  the  discourse  slily  about: 

“ Mrs.  Dukes,”  said  I,  “ here’s  an  ugly  accident  has  happen’d  out: 

’Tis  not  that  I value  the  money  three  skips  of  a louse 
But  the  thing  I stand  upon  is  the  credit  of  the  house. 

’Tis  true,  seven  pounds,  four  shillings,  and  sixpence,  make  a great  hole 
in  my  wages  ; 

Besides,  as  they  say,  service  is  no  inheritance  in  these  ages. 

Now,  Mrs.  Dukes,  you  know,  and  everybody  understands, 

That  though  ’tis  hard  to  judge,  yet  money  can’t  go  without  hands.” 

“ The  devil  take  me  !”  said  she  (blessing  herself)  “ if  ever  I saw’t  !” 

So  she  roared  like  a bedlam,  as  though  I had  call’d  her  all  to 
naught. 

So  you  know,  what  could  I say  to  her  any  more? 

I e’en  left  her  and  came  away  as  wise  as  I was  before. 

Well  ; but  then  they  would  have  had  me  gone  to  the  cunning 
man ! 

“ No,”  said  I,  “’tis  the  same  thing,  the  Chaplain JJ  will  be  here 
anon.” 

So  the  Chaplain  came  in.  Now  the  servants  say  he  is  my  sweet- 
heart, 

Because  he’s  always  in  my  chamber,  and  I always  take  his  part. 

So,  as  the  devil  would  have  it,  before  I was  aware,  out  I blunder’d, 

“ Parson?  said  I,  “ can  you  cast  a nativity , when  a body’s  plunder’d?” 

* Wife  to  one  of  the  footmen.  + Earl  of  Berkeley’s  valet. 

J The  old  deaf  housekeeper.  § Galway. 

||  The  Earl  of  Drogheda,  who  with  the  primate  was  to  succeed  the  two 
carls.  . IT  Clerk  of  the  kitchen. 

**  Ferris;  of  whom,  see  Journal  to  Stella,  Dec.  21,  1710. 
t+  A usual  saying  of  hers.  Dr.  Swift. 


30 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


*65 

(Now  you  must  know,  he  hates  to  be  call’d  Parson , like  the  devil!) 
“Truly,”  says  he,  “ Mrs.  Nab,  it  might  become  you  to  be  more 
civil ; 

If  your  jponey  be  gone,  as  a learned  Divine  says,  d’ye  see, 

You  are  no  text  for  my  handling  ; so  take  that  from  me: 

I was  never  taken  for  a Conjurer  before,  I’d  have  you  to  know.” 

‘‘Lord!”  said  I,  “don’t  be  angry,  I am  sure  I never  thought 
you  so ; 

You  know  I honour  the  cloth;  I design  to  be  a Parson’s  wife ; 

I never  took  one  in  your  coat  for  a conjurer  in  all  my  life.” 

With  that  he  twisted  his  girdle  at  me  like  a rope,  as  who  should 
say, 

“Now  you  may  go  hang  yourself  for  me!”  and  so  went  away. 

Well:  I thought  I should  have  swoon’d.  “Lord!”  said  I, “What  shall 
I do? 

I have  lost  my  money,  and  shall  lose  my  true  love  too  !” 

Then  my  lord  call’d  me:  “Harry,*”  said  my  lord,  “don’t  cry  ; 

I’ll  give  you  something  toward  thy  loss;”  “And,”  says  my  lady,  “ so 
will  I.” 

“ Oh  ! but,”  said  I,  “ what  if,  after  all,  the  Chaplain  won’t  come  to  ? 

For  that,  he  said,  (an’t  please  your  Excellencies,)  I must  petition 
you. 

The  premises  tenderly  consider’d,  I desire  your  Excellencies’  pro- 
tection, 

And  that  I may  have  a share  in  next  Sunday’s  collection; 

And,  over  and  above,  that  I may  have  your  Excellencies’  letter. 

With  an  order  for  the  Chaplain  aforesaid,  or,  instead  of  him,  a 
better:  j 

And  then  your  poor  petitioner,  both  night  and  day,  , 

Or  the  chaplain  (for  ’tis  his  trade ),  as  in  duty  bound,  shall  ever 
pray? 

# A cant  word  of  Lord  and  Lady  Berkeley  to  Mrs.  Harris. 


EPIGRAM  ON  WOOD’S  BRASS  MONEY. 

CARTERET  was  welcomed  to  the  shore 
First  with  the  brazen  cannon’s  roar ; 

To  meet  him  next  the  soldier  comes, 

With  brazen  trumps  and  brazen  drums  ; 
Approaching  near  the  town,  he  hears 
The  brazen  bells  salute  his  ears: 

But  when  Wood’s  brass  began  to  sound, 

Guns,  trumpets,  drums,  and  bells,  were  drown’d 


TOLAND'S  INVITATION  TO  DISMAL. 


46) 


TOLAND’S  INVITATION  TO  DISMAL, 

TO  DINE  WITH  THE  CALF’S-HEAD  CLUB. 

Imitated  from  Horace,  Lib.  i.  Epist.  5* 

IF,  dearest  Dismal,  you  for  once  can  dine 
Upon  a single  dish,  and  tavern  wine, 

Toland  to  you  this  invitation  sends, 

To  eat  the  calt’s-head  with  your  trusty  friends. 

Suspend  awhile  your  vain  ambitious  hopes, 

Leave  hunting  after  bribes,  forget  your  tropes* 
To-morrow  we  our  mystic  feast  prepare, 

Where  thou,  our  latest  proselyte,  shalt  share: 

When  we,  by  proper  signs  and  symbols,  tell, 

How  by  brave  hands,  the  royal  traitor  fell ; 

The  meat  shall  represent  the  tyrant’s  head, 

The  wine  his  blood  our  predecessors  shed  ; 

While  an  alluding  hymn  some  artist  sings, 

We  toast  “ Confusion  to  the  race  of  kings  \* 

At  monarchy  we  nobly  show  our  spite, 

And  talk,  what  fools  call  tiva  son,  all  the  night. 

Who,  by  disgraces  or  ill  fortune  sunk, 

Feels  not  his  soul  enliven’d  when  he’s  drunk? 

Wine  can  clear  up  Godolphin’s  cloudy  face, 

And  fill  Jack  Smith  with  hopes  to  keep  his  place: 

By  force  of  wine,  even  Scarborough  is  brave, 

Hal  grows  more  pert,  and  Somers  not  so  grave: 

Wine  can  give  Portland  wit,  and  Cleveland  sense, 
Montague  learning,  Bolton  eloquence: 

Cholmondeley,  when  drunk,  can  never  lose  his  wand; 
And  Lincoln  then  imagines  he  has  land. 

My  province  is,  to  see  that  all  be  right, 

Glasses  and  linen  clean,  and  pewter  bright  5 
From  our  mysterious  club  to  keep  out  spies. 

And  tories  (dress’d  like  waiters)  in  disguise. 

You  shall  be  coupled  as  you  best  approve, 

Seated  at  table  next  the  men  you  love. 

Sunderland,  Orford,  Bovle,  and  Richmond’s  grace, 

Will  come  ; and  Hampden  shall  have  Walpole’s  place  $ 
Wharton,  unless  prevented  by  a whore, 

Will  hardly  fail ; and  there  is  room  for  more. 

But  I love  elbow-room  whene’er  I drink  • 

And  honest  Harry  is  too  apt  to  stink. 


463 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WO  RES. 


Let  no  pretence  of  business  make  you  stay  ; 

Yet  take  one  word  of  counsel  by  the  way. 

It  Guernsey  calls,  send  word  you’re  gone  abroad  ; 
He’ll  teaze  you  with  King  Charles,  and  Bishop  Laud, 
Or  make  you  fast,  and  carry  you  to  prayers: 

But,  if  he  will  break  in,  and  walk  up  stairs, 

Steal  by  the  back-door  out,  and  leave  him  thera  j 
Then  order  Squash  to  call  a hackney  chair. 


Of  her  entirely-English  * heart. 

For  want  of  which,  by  way  of  botch, 

She  pieced  it  up  again  with  SCOTCH. 

Blest  revolution  ! which  creates 
Divided  hearts,  united  states  ! 

See  how  the  double  nation  lies, 

Like  a rich  coat,  with  skirts  of  frieze  i 
As  if  a man,  in  making  posies, 

Should  bundle  thistles  up  with  roses. 

Who  ever  yet  a union  saw 
Of  kingdoms  without  faith  or  law  ? 
Henceforward  let  no  statesman  dare 
A kingdom  to  a ship  compare  ; 

Lest  he  should  call  our  commonweal 
A vessel  with  a double-keel : 

Which,  just  like  ours,  new  rigg’d  and  maim'd, 
And  got  about  a league  from  land, 

By  change  of  wind  to  leeward  side, 

The  pilot  knew  not  how  to  guide. 

So  tossing  faction  wall  overwhelm 
Our  crazy  double-bottom’d  realm. 

* The  motto  on  Queen  Anne’s  coronation  medal 


ON  THE  UNION. 
HE  queen  has  lately  lost  a part 


A GRUB-STREET  ELEGY. 


469 


A GRUB-STREET  ELEGY 

ON  TI1E  SUPPOSED  DEATH  OF  PARTRIDGE  THE  ALMANACK 
MAKER,  1708. 

WELL ; *tis  as  Bickerstaff  has  guess’d. 

Though  we  all  took  it  for  a jest ; 

Partridge  is  dead  ; nay,  more,  he  died 
Ere  he  could  prove  the  good  squire  lied. 

Strange,  an  astrologer  should  die 
Without  one  wonder  in  the  sky ; 

Not  one  of  all  his  crony  stars 
To  pay  their  duty  at  his  hearse  f 
No  meteor,  no  eclipse  appear’d  ! 

No  comet  with  a flaming  beard  ! 

The  sun  has  rose,  and  gone  to  bed, 

Tust  as  if  Partridge  were  not  dead  ; 

Nor  hid  himself  behind  the  moon 
To  make  a dreadful  night  at  noon. 

He  at  first  periods  walks  through  Aries, 

Howe'er  our  earthly  motion  varies  ; 

And  twice  a year  he’ll  cut  the  Equator, 

As  if  there  had  been  no  such  matter. 

Some  wits  have  wonder’d  what  analogy 
There  is  ’twixt  cobbling*  and  astrology  ; 

How  Partridge  made  his  optics  rise 
From  a shoe-sole  to  reach  the  skies. 

A list  the  cobbler’s  temples  ties, 

To  keep  the  hair  out  of  his  eyes  ; 

From  whence  ’tis  plain  the  diadem 
That  princes  wear  derives  from  them  ; 

And  therefore  crowns  are  nowadays 
Adorn’d  with  golden  stars  and  rays  ; 

Which  plainly  shows  the  near  alliance 
*Twixt  cobbling  and  the  planets’  science; 

Besides,  that  slow-paced  sign  Bootes, 

As  ’tis  miscalled,  we  know  not  who  ’tis  : 

But  Partridge  ended  all  disputes  ; 

He  knew  his  trade,  and  call’d  it  boots.f 
The  horned  moon,  which  heretofore 
Upon  their  shoes  the  Romans  wore, 

Whose  wideness  kept  their  toes  from  cornj 
And  whence  we  claim  our  shoeing -ho ms, 

# Partridge  was  a cobbler. 

+ See  his  Almanack. 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS* 


Shows  how  the  art  of  cobbling  bears 
A near  resemblance  to  the  spheres. 

A scrap  of  parchment  hung  by  geometry 
(A  great  refiner  in  barometry), 

Can,  like  the  stars,  foretell  the  weather ; 
And  what  is  parchment  else  but  leather? 
Which  an  astrologer  might  use 
Either  for  Almanacks  or  shoes. 

Thus  Partridge,  by  his  wit  and  part% 

At  once  did  practise  both  these  arts  : 

And  as  the  boding  owl  (or  rather 
The  bat,  because  her  wings  are  leather) 
Steals  from  her  private  cell  by  night. 

And  flies  about  the  candle-light ; 

So  learned  Partridge  could  as  well 
Creep  in  the  dark  from  leathern  ceU 
And  in  his  fancy  fly  as  far 
To  peep  upon  a twinkling  star. 

Besides,  he  could  confound  the  sphere% 
And  set  the  planets  by  the  ears  ; 

To  show  his  skill,  he  Mars  could  join 
To  Venus  in  aspect  malign  ; 

Then  call  in  Mercury  for  aid, 

And  cure  the  wounds  that  Venus  made. 

Great  scholars  have  in  Lucian  read, 
When  Philip,  king  of  Greece,  was  dead. 
His  soul  and  spirit  did  divide, 

And  each  part  took  a different  side: 

One  rose  a star ; the  other  fell 
Beneath,  and  mended  shoes  in  Hell, 

Thus  Partridge  still  shines  in  each  art^ 
The  cobbling  and  star-gazing  part, 

And  is  install’d  as  good  a star 
As  any  of  the  Caesars  are. 

Triumphant  star  ! some  pity  shot* 

On  cobblers  militant  below, 

Whom  roguish  boys,  in  stormy  nights, 
Torment  by  pissing  out  their  lights, 

Or  through  a chink  convey  their  smoke^ 
Enclosed  artificers  to  choke. 

Thou,  high  exalted  in  thy  sphere, 

Mayst  follow  still  thy  calling  there. 

To  thee  the  Bull  will  lend  his  hide, 

By  Phoebus  newly  tann’d  and  dried  s 
For  thee  they  Argo’s  hulk  will  tax, 

And  scrape  her  pitchy  sides  for  wax  l 

Then  Ariadne  kindly  lends 

Her  braided  hair  to  make  thee  ends  | 

The  points  of  Sagittarius’  dart 
Turns  to  an  awl  by  heavenly  art ; 


A GRUB-STREET  ELEGY. 


And  Vulcan,  wheedled  by  his  wife^ 

Will  forge  for  thee  a paring-knife. 

For  want  of  room  by  Virgo’s  side, 

Sha’ll  strain  a point  and  sit  astride. 

To  take  thee  kindly  in  between  ; 

And  then  the  Signs  will  be  Thirteen, 

THE  EPITAPH. 

Here,  five  feet  deep,  lies  on  his  bade 
A cobbler,  starmonger,  and  quack; 
Who,  to  the  stars  in  pure  good  will. 
Does  to  his  best  look  upward  still* 
Weep,  all  you  customers  that  use 
His  pills,  his  almanacks,  or  shoes  : 

And  you  that  did  your  fortune  seek. 

Step  to  his  grave  but  once  a week; 

This  earth,  which  bears  his  body’s  prints 
You’ll  find  has  so  much  virtue  in’t, 

That  I durst  pawn  my  ears  ’twill  tell, 
Whate’er  concerns  you  full  as  well, 

In  physic,  stolen  goods,  or  love, 

As  he  himself  could,  when  above. 


A DESCRIPTION  OF  A CITY  SHOWER 

IN  IMITATION  OF  VIRGIL’S  GEORGICS.* 

CAREFUL  observers  may  foretell  the  hour, 

(By  sure  prognostics)  when  to  dread  a showfifc 
While  rain  depends,  the  pensive  cat  gives  o’er 
Her  frolics,  and  pursues  her  tail  no  more. 

Returning  home  at  night,  you’ll  find  the  sink 
Strike  your  offended  sense  with  double  stink. 

If  you  be  wise,  then  go  not  far  to  dine-; 

You’ll  spend  in  coach-hire  more  than  save  in  winew 
A coming  shower  your  shooting  corns  presage, 

Old  aches  will  throb,  your  hollow  tooth  will  rage ; 
Sauntering  in  coffee-house  is  Dulman  seen  ; 

He  damns  the  climate,  and  complains  of  spleen. 

Meanwhile  the  South,  rising  with  dabbled  winga* 
A sable  cloud  athwart  the  welkin  flings. 

That  swill’d  more  liquor  than  it  could  contain, 

And,  like  a drunkard,  gives  it  up  again. 

Brisk  Susan  whips  her  linen  from  the  rope, 

While  the  first  drizzling  shower  is  borne  aslope: 

Such  is  that  sprinkling  whicji  some  careless  quean 
Flirts  on  you  from  her  mop,  but  not  so  clean: 

• Written  in  October,  1710 ; and  first  printed  in  the  Taller. 


17* 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


You  fly,  invoke  the  gods  ; then,  turning,  stop 
To  rail ; she,  singing,  still  whirls  on  her  mop. 

Not  yet  the  dust  had  shunned  th’  unequal  strife# 

But,  aided  by  the  wind,  fought  still  for  life,  * 

And  wafted  with  its  foe  by  violent  gust, 

#Twas  doubtful  which  was  rain  and  which  was  dust# 

Ah  ! where  must  needy  poet  seek  for  aid, 

When  dust  and  rain  at  once  his  coat  invade? 

Sole  coat ! where  dust,  cemented  by  the  rain, 

Erects  the  nap,  and  leaves  a cloudy  stain  ! 

Now  in  contiguous  drops  the  flood  comes  down* 
Threatening  with  deluge  this  devoted  town. 

To  shops  in  crowds  the  daggled  females  fly, 

Pretend  to  cheapen  goods,  but  nothing  buy. 

The  Templar  spruce,  while  every  spout’s  abroach. 

Stays  till  ’tis  fair,  yet  seems  to  call  a coach. 

The  tuck’d-up  sem stress  walks  with  hasty  strides. 

While  streams  roll  down  her  oil’d  umbrellas  sides® 

Here  various  kinds,  by  various  fortunes  led, 

Commence  acquaintance  underneath  a shed. 

Triumphant  Tories,  and  desponding  Whigs 
Forget  their  feuds,  and  join  to  save  their  wigs# 

Box’d  in  a chair  the  Beau  impatient  sits, 

While  spouts  run  clattering  o’er  the  roof  by  fits, 

And  ever  and  anon  with  frightful  din 

The  leather  sounds  ; he  trembles  from  within. 

So  when  Troy  chairmen  bore  the  wooden  steed* 
Pregnant  with  Greeks  impatient  to  be  freed, 

(Those  bully  Greeks,  who,  as  the  moderns  do, 

Instead  of  paying  chairmen,  ran  them  through) 

Laocoon  struck  the  outside  with  his  spear, 

And  each  imprison’d  hero  quaked  for  fear. 

Now  from  all  parts  the  swelling  kennels  flow. 

And  bear  their  trophies  with  them  as  they  go: 

Filths  of  all  hues  and  odour,  seem  to  tell 

What  street  they  sail’d  from,  by  their  sight  and  smelt 

They,  as  each  torrent  drives  with  rapid  force, 

From  Smithfieldto  St.  Pulchre’s  shape  their  course* 

And  in  huge  confluence  join’d  at  Snowhill  ridge, 

Fall  from  the  conduit  prone  to  Holborn  bridge. 
Sweepings  from  butchers’  stalls,  dung,  guts,  and  blood. 
Drown’d  puppies,  stinking  sprats,  all  drench’d  in  mud. 
Dead  cats, and  turnip-tops,  come  tumbling  down  the  flood* 


THE  LITTLE  HOUSE  OF  CASTLE-KNOCK \ 


473 


ON  THE  LITTLE  HOUSE 
BY 

THE  CHURCHYARD  OF  CASTLE-KNOCK.  I7I0b 

WHOEVER  pleases  to  inquire 

Why  yonder  steeple  wants  a spire^ 
The  grey  old  fellow,  poet  Joe,* 

The  philosophic  cause  will  show. 

Once  on  a time  a western  blast 
At  least  twelve  inches  overcast, 

Reckoning  roof,  weathercock,  and  all, 

Which  came  with  a prodigious  fall; 

And  tumbling  topsy-turvy  round, 

Lit  with  its  bottom  on  the  ground: 

For,  by  the  laws  of  gravitation, 

It  fell  into  its  proper  station. 

This  is  the  little  strutting  pile, 

You  see  just  by  the  churchyard  stile  ; 

The  walls  in  tumbling  gave  a knock, 

And  thus  the  steeple  got  a shock  ; 

From  whence  the  neighbouring  farmer  calls 
The  steeple,  Knock  ; the  vicar,  t Walls. 

The  vicar  once  a week  creeps  in, 

Sits  with  his  knees  up  to  his  chin  ; 

Here  cons  his  notes,  and  takes  a wet, 

Till  the  small  ragged  flock  is  met. 

A traveller,  who  by  did  pass, 

Observed  the  roof  behind  the  grass  ; 

On  tiptoe  stood,  and  rear’d  his  snout,  1 
And  saw  the  parson  creeping  out  ; 

Was  much  surprised  to  see  a crow 
Venture  to  build  his  nest  so  low. 

A schoolboy  ran  unto’t  and  thought, 

The  crib  was  down,  the  blackbird  caught. 

A third,  who  lost  his  way  by  night, 

Was  forced  for  safety  to  alight, 

And  stepping  o’er  the  fabric  roof, 

His  horse  had  like  to  spoil  his  hoof. 

Warburton  J took  it  in  his  noddle, 

This  building  was  design’d  a model ; 

Or  of  a pigeon-house  or  oven, 

To  bake  one  loaf,  and  keep  one  dove  in. 

• Kr.  Beaumont  of  Trim. 

T Archdeacon  Walls,  a correspondent  of  Swift’s. 

{ Swift’s  curate  at  Larac  r. 


474 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


Then  Mrs.  Johnson*  gave  her  verdict. 

And  every  one  was  pleased  that  heard  it: 

“ All  that  you  make  this  stir  about 
Is  but  a still  which  wants  a spout.” 

The  reverend  Dr.  Raymondf  guess'd 
More  probably  than  all  the  rest ; 

He  said  but  that  it  wanted  room 
It  might  have  been  a pigmy’s  tomb. 

The  doctor’s  family  came  by, 

And  little  miss  began  to  cry: 

“ Give  me  that  house  in  my  own  hand  P 
Then  madam  bade  the  chariot  stand, 

Call’d  to  the  clerk,  in  manner  mild, 

“ Pray,  reach  that  thing  here  to  the  child  : 

That  thing,  I mean,  among  the  kale  ; 

And  here’s  to  buy  a pot  of  ale.” 

The  clerk  said  to  her  in  a heat, 

“ What,  sell  my  master’s  country-seat, 

Where  he  comes  every  week  from  town  t 
He  would  not  sell  it  for  a crown.” 
u Poh  ! fellow,  keep  not  such  a pother  ; 

In  half  an  hour  thou’lt  make  another.” 

Says  Nancy, X “ I can  make  for  miss 
A finer  house  ten  times  than  this  ; 

The  dean  will  give  me  willow  sticks, 

And  Joe  my  apron-lull  of  bricks.” 

A TOWN  ECLOGUE.  17N). 
(first  printed  in  the  tatler). 

Scene,  the  Royal  Exchange . 


No  hail  descends,  and  frost  can  pinch  no  more. 


ile  other  girls  confess  the  genial  spring, 

And  laugh  aloud,  or  amorous  ditties  sing, 

Secure  from  cold  their  lovely  necks  display. 

And  throw  each  useless  chafing-dish  away  ; 

Why  sits  my  Phillis  discontented  here, 

Nor  feels  the  turn  of  the  revolving  year? 

Why  on  that  brow  dwell  sorrow  and  dismay, 

Where  Loves  were  wont  to  sport,  and  Smiles  to  play? 

PHILLIS.  Ah,  Corydon  ! survey  the  ’Change  around, 
Through  all  the  ’Change  no  wretch  like  me  is  found  : 
Alas  ! the  day,  when  I,  poor  heedless  maid, 

Was  to  your  rooms  in  Lincoln’s  Inn  betray’d  ; 

Then  how  you  swore,  how  many  vows  you  made  ! 

* Stella.  f Vicar  of  Trim.  X The  waiting-woman. 


Corydon. 

OW  the  keen  rigour  of  the  winter’s  o’er, 


A TOWN  ECLOGUE. 


475 


Ye  listening  Zephyrs,  that  o’erheard  his  love, 

Waft  the  soft  accents  to  the  gods  above. 

Alas  ! the  day  ; for  (O,  eternal  shame  !) 

I sold  you  handkerchiefs,  and  lost  my  fame. 

COR.  When  I forget  the  favour  you  bestov/’d. 

Red  herrings  shall  be  spawn’d  in  Tyburn  Road  : . 

Fleet  Street  transform’d  become  a flowery  green, 

And  mass  be  sung  where  operas  are  seen. 

The  wealthy  cit,  and  the  St.  James’s  beau, 

Shall  change  their  quarters,  and  their  joys  forego  5 
Stock-jobbing  this  to  Jonathan’s  shall  come, 

At  the  Groom  Porter’s  that  play  off  his  plum. 

Phil.  But  what  to  me  does  all  that  love  avail, 

If,  while  I doze  at  home  o’er  Porter’s  ale, 

Each  night  with  wine  and  wenches  you  regale  ? 

My  livelong  hours  in  anxious  cares  are  past, 

And  raging  hunger  lays  my  beauty  waste. 

On  Templars  spruce  in  vain  I glances  throw. 

And  with  shrill  voice  invite  them  as  they  go# 

Expos’d  in  vain  my  glossy  ribands  shine. 

And  unregarded  wave  upon  the  twine. 

The  week  flies  round  ; and  when  my  profit’s  known, 

1 hardly  clear  enough  to  change  a crown. 

Cor.  Hard  fate  of  virtue,  thus  to  be  distrest, 

Thou  fairest  of  thy  trade,  and  far  the  best ; 

As  fruitmen’s  stalls  the  summer  market  grace. 

And  ruddy  peaches  them  ; as  first  in  place 
Plumcake  is  seen  o’er  smaller  pastry  ware, 

And  ice  on  that ; so  Phillis  does  appear 
In  playhouse  and  in  park,  above  the  rest 
Of  belies  mechanic,  elegantly  drest. 

Phil.  And  yet  Crepundia,  that  conceited  fair, 

Amid  her  toys,  affects  a saucy  air, 

And  views  me  hourly  with  a scornful  eye. 

Cor.  She  might  as  well  with  bright  Cleora  vie. 
Phil.  With  this  large  petticoat  I strive  in  vain 
To  hide  my  folly  past,  and  coming  pain  ; 

*Tis  now  no  secret ; she,  and  fifty  more, 

Observe  the  symptoms  I had  once  before ; 

A second  babe  at  Wapping  must  be  placed, 

When  I scarce  bear  the  charges  of  the  last. 

COR.  What  I could  raise  I sent ; a pound  of  plums, 
Five  shillings,  and  a coral  for  his  gums  ; 

To-morrow  I intend  him  something  more. 

Phil.  I sent  a frock  and  pair  of  shoes  before. 

Cor.  However,  you  shall  home  with  me  to-night, 
Forget  your  cares,  and  revel  m delight 
I have  in  store  a pint  or  two  of  wine, 

Some  cracknels,  and  the  remnant  of  a chine. 

And  now  on  either  side,  and  all  around, 

The  weighty  shopboards  fall,  and  bars  resound ; 


478 


MAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 

Each  ready  semstress  slips  her  pattins  on, 
And  ties  her  hood,  preparing  to  be  gone* 


THE  FABLE  OF  MIDAS.* 


M 


I7II— 12. 

IDAS,  we  are  in  story  told, 

Turn’d  every  thing  he  touch’d  to  gold  3 

innM  hl«  rrmrirl 


ll 


He  chipp’d  his  bread  ; the  pieces  round 
Glitter’d  like  spangles  on  the  ground : 

A codling,  ere  it  went  his  lip  in, 

Would  straight  become  a golden  pippin  X 
He  call’d  for  drink  ; you  saw  him  sup 
Potable  gold  in  golden  cup  : 

His  empty  paunch  that  he  might  fill. 

He  suck’d  his  victuals  through  a quill. 

Untouch’d  it  pass’d  between  his  grindery 
Or’t  had  been  happy  for  gold  finders  : 

He  cock’d  his  hat,  you  would  have  said 
Mambrino’s  helm  adorn’d  his  head  ; 

Whene’er  he  chanced  his  hands  to  lay 
On  magazines  of  corn  or  hay, 

Gold  ready  coin’d  appear’d  instead 
Of  paltry  provender  and  bread  ; 

Hence  by  wise  farmers  we  are  told* 

Old  hay  is  equal  to  old  gold  : 

And  hence  a critic  deep  maintains. 

We  learn’d  to  weigh  our  gold  by  grains* 

This  fool  had  got  a lucky  hit  ; 

And  people  fancied  he  had  wit. 

Two  gods  their  skill  in  music  tried* 

And  both  chose  Midas  to  decide : 

He  against  Phoebus’  harp  decreed* 

And  gave  it  for  Pan’s  oaten  reed  : 

The  god  of  wit,  to  show  his  grudge* 

Clapt  asses’  ears  upon  the  judge ; 

A goodly  pair,  erect  and  wide, 

Which  he  could  neither  gild  nor  hide; 

And  now  the  virtue  of  his  hands 
Was  lost  among  Pactolus  sands, 

Against  whose  torrent  while  he  swims*  - 
The  golden  scurf  peels  off  his  limbs  : 

Fame  spreads  the  news  and  people  travel 
F rom  far  to  gather  golden  gravel : 

Midas,  exposed  to  all  their  jeers, 

Had  lost  his  art,  and  kept  his  ears. 

• *f  To  day  I published  1 The  Fable  of  Midas/  a poem  printed  on  a loose  half 
sheet  of  paper.  I know  not  how  it  will  sell ; but  it  passed  wonderfully  at  our 
society  to-night ; and  Mr.  Secretary  read  it  before  me  the  other  night,  to  Lord 
Treasurer,  at  Lord  Masham’s  where  they  equally  approved  of  it.  Tell  me  hew 
it  passes  with  you.1’— -Journal  to  Stella,  Fob.  14, 1711—12.  N. 


THE  FABLE  OF  MIDAS. 


47 1 


This  tale  inclines  the  gentle  reader 
To  think  upon  a certain  leader  ; 

To  whom  from  Midas  down,  descends 
That  virtue  in  the  fingers'  ends. 

What  else  by  perquisites  are  meant. 

By  pensions,  bribes,  and  three  per  cent  ? 

By  places  and  commissions  sold. 

And  turning  dung  itself  to  gold  ? 

By  starving  in  the  midst  of  store. 

As  t'other  Midas  did  before  ? 

None  e'er  did  modern  Midas  choose. 

Subject  or  patron  of  his  Muse, 

But  found  him  thus  their  merit  scan, 
That*Phoebus  must  give  place  to  Pan  : 

He  values  not  the  poet’s  praise, 

Nor  will  exchange  his  plums  for  bays. 

To  Pan  alone  rich  misers  call : 

And  there's  the  jest  for  Pan  is  ALL. 

Here  English  wits  will  be  to  seek, 

Howe'er,  'tis  all  one  in  the  Greek. 

Besides,  it  plainly  now  appears 
Our  Midas  too  has  asses'  ears  ; 

Where  every  fool  his  mouth  applies, 

And  whispers  in  a thousand  lies  ; 

Such  gross  delusions  could  not  pass 
Through  any  ears  but  of  an  ass. 

But  gold  defiles  witli  frequent  touch, 

There’s  nothing  fouls  the  hand  so  much  * 

And  scholars  give  it  for  the  cause 
Of  British  Midas'  dirty  paws  ; 

Which  while  the  senate  strove  to  scour, 

They  wash'd  away  the  chemic  power. 

While  he  his  utmost  strength  applied, 

To  swim  against  this  popular  tide, 

The  golden  spoils  flew  off  apace, 

Here  fell  a pension,  there  a place  : 

The  torrent  merciless  imbibes 
Commissions,  perquisites,  and  bribes  5 
By  their  own  weight  sunk  to  the  bottom  ; 

Much  good  may  do  them  that  have  caught  *em  ! 
And  Midas  now  neglected  stands 
With  asses'  ears,  and  dirty  hands. 


478 


BEAN  SWIFT’S  WORSTS, 


CADENUS  AND  VANESSA. 

WRITTEN  AT  WINDSOR,  1713. 


HE  shepherds  and  the  nymphs  were  see® 


Pleading  before  the  Cyprian  queen. 
The  counsel  for  the  fair  began, 

Accusing  the  false  creature  man. 

The  brief  with  weighty  crimes  was  charged^ 
On  which  the  pleader  much  enlarged  ; 

That  Cupid  now  has  lost  his  art, 

Or  blunts  the  point  of  every  dart; 

His  altar  now  no  longer  smokes. 

His  mother’s  aid  no  youth  invokes; 

This  tempts  freethinkers  to  refine. 

And  bring  in  doubt  their  powers  divine  ; 
Now  love  is  dwindled  to  intrigue. 

And  marriage  grown  a money  league  ; 
Which  crimes  aforesaid  (with  her  leave) 
Were  (as  he  humbly  did  conceive) 

Against  our  sovereign  lady’s  peace. 

Against  the  statute  in  that  case, 

Against  her  dignity  and  crown  : 

Then  pray’d  an  answer,  and  sat  down. 

The  nymphs  with  scorn  beheld  their  foes 
When  the  defendant’s  counsel  rose. 

And,  what  no  lawyer  ever  lack’d, 

With  impudence  own’d  all  the  fact ; 

But,  what  the  gentlest  heart  would  vej^ 

Laid  all  the  fault  on  t’other  sex. 

That  modern  love  is  no  such  thing 
As  what  those  ancient  poets  sing  ; 

A fire  celestial,  chaste,  refined, 

Conceived  and  kindled  in  the  mind  ; 

Which,  having  found  an  equal  flame^ 

Unites,  and  both  become  the  same. 

In  different  breasts  together  burn, 

Together  both  to  ashes  turn. 

But  women  now  feel  no  such  fire, 

And  only  know  the  gross  desire. 

Their  passions  move  in  lower  spheres. 
Where’er  caprice  or  folly  steers, 

A dog,  a parrot,  or  an  ape, 

Or  some  worse  brute  in  human  shape. 
Engross  the  fancies  of  the  fair, 

The  few  soft  moments  they  can  spare 


CADENUS  AND  VANESSA. 


479 


From  visits  to  receive  and  pay, 

From  scandal,  politics,  and  play: 

From  fans,  and  flounces,  and  brocades, 
From  equipage  and  park  parades. 

From  all  the  thousand  female  toys, 

From  every  trifle  that  employs 
The  out  or  inside  of  their  heads, 
between  their  toilets  and  their  beds. 

In  a dull  stream,  which  moving  slow. 

You  hardly  see  the  current  flow ; 

If  a small  breeze  obstruct  the  course, 

It  whirls  about  for  want  of  force, 

And  in  its  narrow  circle  gathers 
Nothing  but  chaff,  and  straws,  and  feathers* 
The  current  of  a female  mind 
Stops  thus,  and  turns  with  every  wind ; 

Thus  whirling  round  together  draws 
F ools,  fops,  and  rakes,  for  chaff  and  straw* 
Hence  we  conclude,  no  women’s  hearts 
Are  won  by  virtue,  wit,  and  parts  : 

Nor  are  the  men  of  sense  to  blame 
For  breasts  incapable  of  flame ; 

Tke  fault  must  on  the  nymphs  be  placed. 
Grown  so  corrupted  in  their  taste. 

lhe  pleader,  having  spoke  his  best. 

Had  witness  ready  to  attest, 

Who  fairly  could  on  oath  depose, 

When  questions  on  the  fact  arose. 

That  every  article  was  true  ; 

Nor  further  those  deponents  knew:  • 
Therefore  he  humbly  would  insist, 

The  bill  might  be  with  costs  dismiss’d. 

The  cause  appear’d  with  so  much  weight* 
That  Venus,  from  her  judgment-seat, 
Desired  them  not  to  talk  so  loud, 

Else  she  must  interpose  a cloud  : 

For  if  the  heavenly  folks  should  know 
These  pleadings  in  the  courts  below, 

That  mortals  here  disdain  to  love, 

She  ne’er  could  show  her  face  above ; 

For  gods,  their  betters,  are  too  wise 
To  value  that  which  men  despise. 

And  then,  said  she,  my  son  and  I 
Must  stroll  in  air,  ’twixt  land  and  sky; 

Or  else,  shut  out  from  Heaven  and  earthg 
Fly  to  the  sea,  my  place  of  birth  ; 

There  live,  with  daggled  mermaids  pent, 
And  keep  on  fish  perpetual  Lent. 

But,  since  the  case  appear’d  so  nice* 

She  thought  it  best  to  take  advice*, 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


The  Muses,  by  the  king’s  permission, 
Though  foes  to  love,  attend  the  session. 
And  on  the  right  hand  took  their  places 
In  order  ; on  the  left,  the  Graces  : 

To  whom  she  might  her  doubts  propose 
On  all  emergencies  that  rose. 

The  Muses  oft  were  seen  to  frown  ; 

The  Graces  half  ashamed  look  down ; 
And  ’twas  observed,  there  were  but  few 
Of  either  sex  among  this  crew, 

Whom  she  or  her  assessors  knew. 

The  goddess  soon  began  to  see, 

Things  were  not  ripe  for  a decree  ; 

And  said,  she  must  consult  her  books. 
The  lovers’  Fletas,  Bractons,  Cokes. 

First  to  a dapper  clerk  she  beckon’d 
To  turn  to  Ovid,  book  the  second ; 

She  then  referr’d  them  to  a place 
In  Virgil,  vide  Dido’s  case : 

As  for  Tibullus’s  reports, 

They -never  pass’d  for  law  in  courts  t 
For  Cowley’s  briefs,  and  pleas  of  Waller* 
Still  their  authority  was  smaller. 

There  was  on  both  sides  much  to  sayf 
She’d  hear  the  cause  another  day. 

And  so  she  did  ; and  then  a third 
She  heard  it — there  she  kept  her  word : 
But,  with  rejoinders  or  replies, 

Long  bills,  and  answers  stuff’d  with  lies* 
Demur,  imparlance,  and  essoign, 

The  parties  ne’er  could  issue  join  : 

For  sixteen  years  the  cause  was  spun, 
And  then  stood  where  it  first  begun. 

Now,  gentle  Clio,  sing,  or  say, 

What  Venus  meant  by  this  delay? 

The  goddess  much  perplex’d  in  mind 
To  see  her  empire  thus  declined  ; 

When  first  this  grand  debate  arose, 
Above  her  wisdom  to  compose, 
Conceived  a project  in  her  head 
To  work  her  ends  ; which,  if  it  sped, 
Would  show  the  merits  of  the  cause 
Far  better  than  consulting  laws. 

In  a glad  hour  Lucina’s  aid 
Produced  on  earth  a wondrous  maid, 

On  whom  the  Queen  of  Love  was  bent 
To  try  a new  experiment. 

She  threw  her  law-books  on  the  shelf, 
And  thus  debated  with  herself : 

“ Since  men  allege  they  ne’er  can  find 
Those  beauties  in  a lemale  mind. 


CADENUS  AND  VANESSA . 


4S1 


Which  raise  a flame  that  will  endure 
For  ever  uncorrupt  and  pure  ; 

If  ^tis  with  reason  they  complain, 

This  infant  shall  restore  my  reign. 

Pll  search  where  every  virtue  dwells, 

From  courts  inclusive  down  to  cells  : 

What  preachers  talk,  or  sages  write ; 

These  I will  gather  and  unite, 

And  represent  them  to  mankind 
Collected  in  that  infant’s  mind.” 

This  said,  she  plucks  in  Heaven’s  high  bowers 
A sprig  of  amaranthine  dowers. 

In  nectar  thrice  infuses  bays, 

Three  times  refined  in  Titan’s  rays  ; 

Then  calls  the  Graces  to  her  aid, 

And  sprinkles  thrice  the  new-born  maid : 

From  whence  the  tender  skin  assumes 
A sweetness  above  all  perfumes  : 

From  whence  a cleanliness  remains, 

Incapable  of  outward  stains  : 

From  whence  that  decency  of  mind, 

So  lovely  in  the  female  kind. 

Where  not  one  careless  thought  intrudes  ; 

Less  modest  than  the  speech  of  prudes  ; 

Where  never  blush  was  call’d  in  aid, 

That  spurious  virtue  in  a maid, 

A virtue  but  at  second-hand  ; 

They  blush,  because  they  understand. 

The  Graces  next  would  act  their  part* 

And  show’d  but  little  of  their  art ; 

Their  work  was  half  already  done, 

The  child  with  native  beauty  shone  ; 

The  outward  form  no  help  required  : 

Each,  breathing  on  her  thrice,  inspired 
That  gentle,  soft,  engaging  air, 

Which  in  old  times  adorn’d  the  fair : 

And  said,  “ Vanessa  be  the  name 
By  which  thou  shalt  be  known  to  fame : 
Vanessa,  by  the  gods  enroll’d  : 

Her  name  on  earth  shall  not  be  told.* 

But  still  the  work  was  not  complete ; 

When  Venus  thought  on  a deceit. 

Drawn  by  her  doves,  away  she  dies, 

And  finds  out  Pallas  in  the  skies. 
u Dear  Pallas,  I have  been  this  morn 
To  see  a lovely  infant  born  ; 

A boy  in  yonder  isle  below, 

So  like  my  own  without  his  bow, 

By  beauty  could  your  heart  be  won, 

You’d  swear  it  is  Apollo’s  son: 


3* 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


& 


But  it  shall  ne’er  be  said,  a child 
So  hopeful  has  by  me  been  spoiPd  : 

I have  enough  besides  to  spare, 

And  give  him  wholly  to  your  care.” 

Wisdom’s  above  suspecting  wiles  : 

The  Queen  of  Learning  gravely  smileSU 
Down  from  Olytnpus  comes  with  joy, 
Mistakes  Vanessa  for  a boy  ; 

Then  sows  within  her  tender  mind 
Seeds  long  unknown  to  womankind  ; 

For  manly  bosoms  chiefly  fit, 

The  seeds  of  knowledge,  judgment,  wit* 

Her  soul  was  suddenly  endued 
With  justice,  truth,  and  fortitude  ; 

With  honour,  which  no  breath  can  stain. 
Which  malice  must  attack  in  vain  ; 

With  open  heart  and  bounteous  hand, 

But  Pallas  here  was  at  a stand ; 

She  knew,  in  our  degenerate  days, 

Bare  virtue  could  not  live  on  praise ; 

That  meat  must  be  with  money  bought  X 
She,  therefore,  upon  second  thought, 

Infused,  yet  as  it  were  by  stealth, 

Some  small  regard  for  state  and  wealth  5 
Of  which,  as  she  grew  up,  there  stay’d, 

A tincture  in  the  prudent  maid  ; 

She  managed  her  estate  with  care, 

Yet  liked  three  footmen  to  her  chair. 

But,  lest  he  should  neglect  his  studies 
Like  a young  heir,  the  thrifty  goddess 
(For  fear  young  master  should  be  spoil’d) 
Would  use  him  like  a younger  child ; 

And,  after  long  computing,  found 
*Twould  come  to  just  five  thousand  pound. 

The  Queen  of  Love  was  pleased  and  proud, 
To  see  Vanessa  thus  endow’d  : 

She  doubted  not  but  such  a dame 
Through'  every  breast  would  dart  a flame ; 
That  every  rich  and  lordly  swain 
With  pride  would  drag  about  her  chain ; 

That  scholars  would  forsake  their  books, 

To  study  bright  Vanessa’s  looks  : 

As  she  advanced,  that  womankind 
Would  by  her  model  form  their  mind. 

And  all  their  conduct  would  be  tried 
By  her,  as  an  unerring  guide  ; 

Offending  daughters  oft  would  hear 
Vanessa’s  praise  rung  in  their  ear : 

Miss  Betty,  when  she  does  a fault, 

Lets  fall  her  knife,  or  spills  the  salt, 


CADENUS  AND  VANESSA. 


483 


Will  thus  be  by  her  mother  chid, 

“’Tis  what  Vanessa  never  did  !” 

<l  Thus  by  the  nymphs  and  swains  adored. 
My  power  shall  be  again  restored, 

And  happy  lovers  bless  my  reign — ” 

So  Venus  hoped,  but  hoped  in  vain. 

For  when  in  time  the  martial  Maid 
Found  out  the  trick  that  Venus  play’d, 

She  shakes  her  helm,  she  knits  her  uroivs. 
And,  fired  with  indignation,  vows, 

To  -morrow,  ere  the  setting  sun. 

She’d  all  undo  that  she  had  done. 

But  in  the  poets  we  may  find 
A wholesome  law,  time  out  of  mind, 

Had  been  confirm’d  by  Fates’  decree, 

That  gods,  of  whatsoe’er  degree, 

Resume  not  what  themselves  have  given. 
Or  any  brother  god  in  heaven  : 

Which  keeps  the  peace  among  the  gods, 

Or  they  must  always  be  at  odds  : 

And  Pallas,  if  she  broke  the  laws, 

Must  yield  her  foe  the  stronger  cause  ; 

A shame  to  one  so  much  adored 
For  wisdom  at  Jove’s  council-board. 
Besides,  she  fear’d  the  Queen  of  Love 
Would  meet  with  better  friends  above. 

And  though  she  must  with  grief  reflect, 

To  see  a moral  virgin  deck’d 
With  graces  hitherto  unknown 
To  female  breasts,  except  her  own  5 
Yet  she  would  act  as  best  became 
A goddess  of  unspotted  fame. 

She  knew,  by  augury  divine, 

Venus  would  fail  in  her  design  ; 

She  studied  well  the  point,  and  found 
Her  foe’s  conclusions  were  not  sound, 
From  promises  erroneous  brought 
And  therefore  the  deduction’s  nought 
And  must  have  contrary  effects, 

To  what  her  treacherous  toe  expects. 

In  proper  seasons  Pallas  meets 
The  Queen  of  Love,  whom  thus  she  greets^ 
(For  gods,  we  are  by  Homer  told, 

Can  in  celestial  language  scold) 

44  Perfidious  goddness  ! but  in  vain 
You  form’d  this  project  in  your  brain  ; 

A project  for  thy  talents  fit, 

With  much  deceit  and  little  wit. 

Thou  hast,  as  thou  shalt  quickly  see, 
Deceived  thyself,  instead  of  me  ; 

For  how  can  heavenly  wisdom  prove 


4*4  DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORK:'. 

An  instrument  to  earthly  love  ? 

Know’st  thou  not  yet,  that  men  commence 
Thy  votaries  for  want  of  sense  ? 

Nor  shall  Vanessa  be  the  theme 
To  manage  thy  abortive  scheme  : 

She’ll  prove  the  greatest  of  thy  foes  ; 

And  yet  I scorn  to  interpose, 

But,  using  neither  skill  nor  force, 

Leave  all  things  to  their  natural  course.” 
The  goddess  thus  pronounced  her  doom 
When  lo  ! Vanessa  in  her  bloom 
Advanced,  like  Atalanta’s  star, 

But  rarely  seen,  and  seen  from  far : 

In  a new  world  with  caution  stept. 

Watch’d  all  the  company  she  kept, 

Well  knowing,  from  the  books  she  read, 
What  dangerous  paths  young  virgins  tread 
Would  seldom  at  the  park  appear; 

Nor  saw  the  playhouse  twice  a year  ; 

Yet,  not  incurious,  was  inclined 
To  know  the  converse  of  mankind. 

First  issued  from  perfumers’  shops, 

A crowd  of  fashionable  fops  : 

They  ask’d  her  how  she  liked  the  play ; 
Then  told  the  tattle  of  the  day  ; 

A duel  fought  last  night  at  two, 

About  a lady — you  know  who  ; 

Mention’d  anew  Italian, come 
Either  from  Muscovy  or  Rome  ; 

Gave  hints  of  who  and  who’s  together ; 
Then  fell  to  talking  of  the  weather  ; 

Last  night  was  so  extremely  fine. 

The  ladies  walk’d  till  after  nine  ; 

Then  in  soft  voice  and  speech  absurd, 
Wifh  nonsense  every  second  word, 

With  fustian  from  exploded  plays, 

They  celebrate  her  beauty’s  praise  ; 

Run  o’er  their  cant  of  stupid  lies, 

And  tell  the  murders  of  her  eyes. 

With  silent  scorn  Vanessa  sat, 

Scarce  listening  to  their  idle  chat ; 

Further  than  sometimes  by  a frown, 

When  they  grew  pert,  to  pull  them  down. 
At  last  she  spitefully  was  bent 
To  try  their  wisdom’s  full  extent ; 

And  said,  she  valued  nothing  less 
Than  titles,  figure,  shape,  and  dress ; 

That  merit  should  be  chiefly  placed 
In  judgment,  knowledge,  wit,  and  taste} 
And  these,  she  offer’d  to  dispute, 

Alone  distinguish’d  man  irom  brute ; 


CADENUS  AND  VANESSA > 


4*5 


That  present  times  have  no  pretence 
To  virtue,  in  the  noble  sense 
By  Greeks  and  Romans  understood, 

To  perish  for  our  country’s  good. 

She  named  the  ancient  heroes  round. 
Explained  for  what  they  were  renown’d  ; 
Then  spoke  with  censure  or  applause 
Of  foreign  customs,  rites,  and  laws  ; 

Through  nature  and  through  art  she  ranged. 
And  gracefully  her  subject  changed; 

In  vain  ! her  hearers  had  no  share 
In  all  she  spoke,  except  to  stare. 

Their  judgment  was,  upon  the  whole, 

* — That  lady  is  the  dullest  soul ! — * 

Then  tapped  their  forehead  in  a jeer, 

As  who  should  say — “ She  wants  it  here! 
She  may  be  handsome,  young,  and  rich, 

But  none  will  burn  her  for  a witch  !” 

A party  next  of  glittering  dames. 

From  round  the  purlieux  of  St.  James, 

Came  early,  out  of  pure  good  will, 

To  see  the  girl  in  dishabille. 

Their  clamour,  lighting  from  their  chair^ 
Grew  louder  all  the  way  upstairs  ; 

At  entrance  loudest,  where  they  found 
The  room  with  volumes  litter’d  round, 
Vanessa  held  Montaigne,  and  read. 

While  Mrs.  Susan  comb’d  her  head. 

They  call’d  for  tea  and  chocolate, 

And  fell  into  their  usual  chat, 

Discoursing  with  important  face, 

On  ribands,  fans,  and  gloves,  and  lace  ; 
Show’d  patterns  just  from  India  brought* 
And  gravely  ask’d  her  what  she  thought, 
Whether  the  red  or  green  were  best, 

And  what  they  cost  ? Vanessa  guess’d. 

As  came  into  her  fancy  first ; 

Named  half  the  rates,  and  liked  the  worst. 
To  scandal  next — “ What  awkward  thing 
Was  that  last  Sunday  in  the  ring? 

I’m  sorry  Mopsa  breaks  so  fast : 

I said  her  face  would  never  last, 

Corinna,  with  that  youthful  air, 

Is  thirty,  and  a bit  to  spare  ; 

Her  fondness  for  a certain  earl 
Began  when  I was  but  a girl  1 
Phillis,  who  but  a month  ago 
Was  married  to  the  Tunbridge  beau, 

1 saw  coquetting  t’other  night 
In  public  with  that  odious  knight  ! * 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


They  rallied  next  Vanessa’s  dress  : 
“That  gown  was  made  for  old  queen  Bess. 
Dear  madam,  let  me  see  your  head  : 

Don’t  you  intend  to  put  on  red? 

A petticoat  without  a hoop  ! 

Sure,  you  are  not  ashamed  to  stoop ! 

With  handsome  garters  at  your  knees, 

No  matter  what  a fellow  sees.” 

Fill’d  with  disdain,  with  rage  inflamed. 
Both  of  herself  and  sex  ashamed, 

The  nymph  stood  silent  out  of  spite, 

Nor  would  vouchsafe  to  set  them  right. 
Away  the  fair  detractors  went, 

And  gave  by  turns  their  censures  vent. 

“ She’s  not  so  handsome  in  my  eyes  ; 

For  wit,  I wonder  where  it  lies  ! 

She’s  fair  and  clean,  and  that’s  the  most  S 
But  why  proclaim  her  for  a toast  ? 

A baby  face  : no  life,  no  airs, 

But  what  she  learn’d  at  country  fairs  ; 
Scarce  knows  what  difference  is  between 
Rich  Flanders  lace  and  Colberteen. 

I’ll  undertake,  my  little  Nancy 
In  flounces  has  a better  fancy  ; 

With  all  her  wit,  I would  not  ask 
Her  judgment  how  to  buy  a mask. 

We  begg’d  her  but  to  patch  her  face, 

She  never  hit  one  proper  place  : 

Which  every  girl  at  five  years  old 
Can  do  as  soon  as  she  is  told. 

I own,  that  out-of-fashion  stuff 
Becomes  the  creature  well  enough. 

The  girl  might  pass,  if  we  could  get  her 
To  know  the  world  a little  better.” 

(To  know  the  world  ! a modern  phra-e 
For  visits,  ombre,  balls,  and  plays.) 

Thus,  to  the  world’s  perpetual  sin  me, 
The  Queen  of  Beauty  lost  her  aim  ; 

Too  late  with  grief  she  understood. 

Pallas  had  done  more  harm  than  good  ; 
For  great  examples  are  but  vain, 

Where  ignorance  begets  disdain. 

Both  sexes,  arm’d  with  guilt  and  spite, 
Against  Vanessa’s  power  unite  : 

To  copy  her  few  nymphs  aspired  ; 

Her  virtues  fewer  swains  admired. 

So  stars  beyond  a certain  height, 

Give  mortals  neither  heat  nor  light. 

Yet  some  of  either  sex,  endow’d 
With  gifts  superior  to  the  crowd, 


CADENUS  AND  VANESSA. 


487 


With  virtue,  knowledge,  taste,  and  wit. 
She  condescended  to  admit  : 

With  pleasing  arts  she  could  reduce 
Men’s  talents  to  their  proper  use  ; 

And  with  address  each  genius  held 
To  that  wherein  it  most  excelPd  ; 

Thus,  making  others’  wisdom  known. 
Could  please  them,  and  improve  her  owxa* 
A modest  youth  said  something  new  ; 

She  placed  it  in  the  strongest  view. 

All  humble  worth  she  strove  to  raise, 
Would  not  be  praised,  yet  loved  to  praise® 
The  learned  met  with  free  approach, 
Although  they  came  not  in  a coach  ; 

Some  clergy  too  she  would  allow, 

Nor  quarrell’d  at  their  awkward  bow| 

But  this  was  for  Cadenus’  sake, 

A gownman  of  a different  make  ; 

Whom  Pallas  once,  Vanessa’s  tutor. 

Had  fix’d  on  for  her  coadjutor. 

But  Cupid,  full  of  mischief,  longs 
To  vindicate  his  mother's  wrongs. 

On  Pallas  all  attempts  are  vain  : 

One  way  he  knows  to  give  her  pain ; 

Vows  on  Vanessa’s  heart  to  take 
Due  vengeance  for  her  patron’s  sake  ; 
Those  early  seeds  by  Venus  sown, 

In  spite  of  Pallas,  now  were  grown  ; 

And  Cupid  hoped  they  would  improve 
By  time,  and  ripen  into  love. 

The  boy  made  use  of  all  his  craft, 

In  vain  discharging  many  a shaft, 

Pointed  at  colonels,  lords,  and  beaux  S 
Cadenus  warded  off  the  blows  ; 

For,  placing  still  some  book  betwixt, 

The  darts  were  in  the  cover  fix’d, 

Or,  often  blunted  and  recoil’d, 

On  Plutarch’s  Morals  struck,  were  spoilt 
The  Queen  of  Wisdom  could  foresee, 
But  not  prevent,  the  Fates’  decree  : 

And  human  caution  tries  in  vain 
To  break  that  adamantine  chain. 

Vanessa,  though  by  Pallas  taught, 

By  Love  invulnerable  thought, 

Searching  in  books  for  wisdom’s  aid, 
Was,  in  the  very  search  betray’d. 

Cupid,  though  ail  his  darts  were  lost, 
Yet  still  resolved  to  spare  no  cost : 

He  could  not  answer  to  his  fame 
The  triumphs  of  that  stubborn  dame, 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 

A nymph  so  hard  to  be  subdued, 

Who  neither  was  coquette  nor  prude. 

“I  find,”  said  he,  “ she  wants  a doctor,* 
Both  to  adore  her,  and  instruct  her  : 

Til  give  her  what  she  most  admires, 
Among  those  venerable  sires. 

Cadenus  is  a subject  fit, 

Grown  old  in  politics  and  wit, 

Caress’d  by  ministers  of  state, 

Of  half  mankind  the  dread  and  hate, 
Whate’er  vexations  love  attend, 

She  need  no  rivals  apprehend. 

Her  sex,  with  universal  voice, 

Must  laugh  at  her  capricious  choice.* 
Cadenus  many  things  had  writ : 
Vanessa  much  esteem’d  his  wit,  s 
And  call’d  for  his  poetic  works  : 

Meantime  the  boy  in  secret  lurks  ; 

And,  while  the  book  was  in  her  hand. 

The  urchin  from  his  private  stand 
Took  aim,  and  shot  with  all  his  strength 
A dart  of  such  prodigious  length, 

It  pierced  the  feeble  volume  through. 

And  deep  transfix’d  her  bosom  too. 

Some  lines,  more  moving  than  the  rest, 
Stuck  to  the  point  that  pierced  her  breast, 
And,  borne  directly  to  the  heart, 

With  pains  unknown,  increased  her  smart* 
Vanessa,  not  in  years  a score, 

Dreams  of  a gown  of  forty-four; 

Imaginary  charms  can  find 
In  eyes  with  reading  almost  blind 
Cadenus  now  no  more  appears 
Declined  in  health,  advanced  in  years. 

She  fancies  music  in  his  tongue  ; 

Nor  further  looks,  but  thinks  him  young. 
What  mariner  is  not  afraid 
To  venture  in  a ship  decay’d  ? 

What  planter  will  attempt  to  yoke 
A sapling  with  a fallen  oak  ? 

As  years  increase,  she  brighter  shines  ; 
Cadenus  with  each  day  declines  . 

And  he  must  fall  a prey  to  time, 

While  she  continues  in  her  prime# 
Cadenus,  common  forms  apart, 

In  every  scene  had  kept  his  heart ; 

Had  sigh’d,  and  languish’d,  vow’d  and  writ* 
For  pastime,  or  to  show  his  wit, 

But  books,  and  time,  and  state  affairs 
Had  spoil’d  his  fashionable  airs  : 


CADENUS  AND  VANESSA . 


He  now  could  praise,  esteem,  approve, 

But  understood  not  what  was  love. 

His  conduct  might  have  made  him  styled 
A father,  and  the  nymph  his  child, 

That  innocent  delight  he  took 
To  see  the  virgin  mind  her  book, 

Was  but  the  master’s  secret  joy 
In  school  to  hear  the  finest  boy. 

Her  knowledge  with  her  fancy  grew; 

She  hourly  press’d  for  something  new  5 
Ideas  came  into  her  mind 
So  fast,  his  lessons  lagg’d  behind  ; 

She  reason’d,  without  plodding  long, 

Nor  ever  gave  her  judgment  wrong. 

But  now  a sudden  change  was  wrought: 

She  minds  no  longer  what  he  taught. 

Cadenus  was  amazed  to  find 
Such  marks  of  a distracted  mind  : 

For,  though  she  seem’d  to  listen  rfiore 
To  all  he  spoke,  than  e’er  before, 

He  found  her  thoughts  would  absent  range, 

Yet  guess’d  not  whence  could  spring  the  change^ 
And  first  he  modestly  conjectures 
His  pupil  might  be  tired  with  lectures; 

Which  help’d  to  mortify  his  pride, 

Yet  gave  him  not  the  heart  to  chide: 

But,  in  a mild  dejected  strain, 

At  last  he  ventured  to  complain: 

Said,  she  should  be  no  longer  teased, 

Might  have  her  freedom  when  she  pleased: 
Was  now  convinced  he  acted  wrong 
To  hide  her  from  the  world  so  long, 

And  in  dull  studies  to  engage 
One  of  her  tender  sex  and  age: 

That  every  nymph  with  envy  own’d, 

How  she  might  shine  in  the  grand  monde$ 

And  every  shepherd  was  undone 
To  see  her  cloister’d  like  a nun. 

This  was  a visionary  scheme: 

He  waked,  and  found  it  but  a dream; 

A project  far  above  his  skill; 

For  nature  must  be  nature  stilL 
If  he  were  bolder  than  became 
A scholar  to  a courtly  dame, 

She  might  excuse  a man  of  letters* 

Thus  tutors  often  treat  their  betters; 

And,  since  his  talk  offensive  grew, 

He  came  to  take  his  last  adieu. 

Vanessa,  fill’d  with  just  disdain. 

Would  still  her  dignity  maintain, 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 

Instructed  from  her  early  years 
To  scorn  the  art  of  female  tears. 

Had  he  employ’d  his  time  so  long 
To  teach  her  what  was  right  and  wrong  5 
Yet  could  such  notions  entertain 
That  all  his  lectures  were  in  vain  ? 

She  own’d  the  wandering  of  her  thoughts  J 
But  he  must  answer  for  her  faults. 

She  well  remember’d,  to  her  cost, 

That  all  his  lessons  were  not  lost. 

Two  maxims  she  could  still  produce, 

And  sad  experience  taught  their  use; 

That  virtue,  pleased  by  being  shown, 
Knows  nothing  which  it  dares  not  own  ; 
Can  make  us  without  fear  disclose 
Our  inmost  secrets  to  our  foes  ; 

That  common  forms  were  not  design’d 
Directors  to  a noble  mind. 

“ Now,”  said  the  nymph,  “ to  let  you  see 
My  actions  with  your  rules  agree  ; 

That  I can  vulgar  forms  despise, 

And  have  no  secrets  to  disguise  ; 

I knew,  by  what  you  said  and  writ, 

How  dangerous  things  were  men  of  wit ; 
You  caution’d  me  against  their  charms, 
But  never  gave  me  equal  arms  ; 

Your  lessons  found  the  weakest  part, 
Aim’d  at  the  head,  but  reach’d  the  heart.* 
Cadenus  felt  within  him  rise 
Shame,  disappointment,  guilt,  surprise. 

He  knew  not  how  to  reconcile 
Such  language  with  her  usual  style  : 

And  yet  her  words  were  so  exprest, 

He  could  not  hope  she  spoke  in  jest. 

His  thought  had  wholly  been  cor  tined 
To  form  and  cultivate  her  mind. 

He  hardly  knew,  till  he  was  told, 

Whether  the  nymph  were  young  or  old  ; 
Had  met  her  in  a public  place, 

Without  distinguishingher  face: 

Much  less  could  his  declining  age 
Vanessa’s  earliest  thoughts  engage  ; 

And,  if  her  youth  indifference  met 
His  person  must  contempt  beget : 

Or,  grant  her  passion  be  sincere, 

How  shall  his  innocence  be  clear  ? 
Appearances  were  all  so  strong, 

The  world  must  think  him  in  the  wrong; 
Would  say  he  made  a treacherous  use 
Of  wit,  to  flatter  and  seduce ; 


CADENUS  AND  VANESSA. 


49* 


The  town  would  swear,  he  had  betray’d 
By  magic  spells  the  harmless  maid: 

And  every  beau  would  have  his  jokes, 
That  scholars  were  like  other  folks  ; 

And,  when  Platonic  flights  were  over. 
The  tutor  turn’d  a mortal  lover  ! 

So  tender  of  the  young  and  fair  ! 

It  show’d  a true  paternal  care — 

Five  thousand  guineas  in  her  purse  ! 

The  doctor  might  have  fancied  worse.— * 
Hardly  at  length  he  silence  broke, 

And  falter’d  every  word  he  spoke ; 
Interpreting  her  complaisance, 

Just  as  a man  sans  consequence, 

She  rallied  well,  he  always  knew: 

Her  manner  now  was  something  new} 
And  what  she  spoke  was  in  an  air 
As  serious  as  a tragic  player. 

But  those  who  aim  at  ridicule 
Should  fix  upon  some  certain  rule. 
Which  fairly  hints  they  are  in  jest, 

Else  he  must  enter  his  protest: 

For,  let  a man  be  ne’er  so  wise, 

He  may  be  caught  with  sober  lies  $ 

A science  which  he  never  taught, 

And,  to  be  free,  was  dearly  bought ; 

For,  take  it  in  its  proper  light, 

*Tis  just  what  coxcombs  call  a bite. 

But,  not  to  dwell  on  things  minute^ 
Vanessa  finish’d  the  dispute  ; 

Brought  weighty  arguments  to  prove 
That  reason  was  her  guide  in  love. 

She  thought  he  had  himself  described 
His  doctrines  when  she  first  imbibed; 
What  he  had  planted,  now  was  grown; 
His  virtues  she  might  call  her  own; 

As  he  approves,  as  he  dislikes, 

Love  or  contempt  her  fancy  strikes. 
Self-love,  in  nature  rooted  fast, 

Attends  us  first,  and  leaves  us  last: 

Why  she  likes  him,  admire  not  at  her; 
She  loves  herself,  and  that’s  the  matter. 
How  was  her  tutor  wont  to  praise 
The  geniuses  of  ancient  days  1 
(Those  authors  he  so  oft  had  named. 
For  learning  wit,  and  wisdom,  famed) 
Was  struck  with  love,  esteem,  and  awe^ 
For  persons  whom  he  never  saw. 
Suppose  Cat  enus  flourish’d  then, 

He  must  adc  re  such  god-like  men. 


DEAN  S WIFT'S  WORKS. 


If  one  short  volume  could  comprise 
All  that  was  witty,  learn’d,  and  wise. 

How  would  it  be  esteem’d  and  reaa, 
Although  the  writer  long  were  dead  ! 

If  such  an  author  were  alive, 

How  all  would  for  his  friendship  strive^ 

And  come  in  crowds  to  see  his  face  ! 

And  this  she  takes  to  be  her  case. 

Cadenus  answers  every  end, 

The  book,  the  author,  and  the  friend; 

The  utmost  her  desires  will  reach, 

Is  but  to  learn  what  he  can  teach : 

His  converse  is  a system  fit 
Alone  to  fill  up  all  her  wit ; 

While  every  passion  of  her  mind 
In  him  is  centred  and  confined. 

Love  can  with  speech  inspire  a mute, 
And  taught  Vanessa  to  dispute. 

This  topic,  never  touch’d  before, 

Display’d  her  eloquence  the  more; 

Her  knowledge,  with  such  pains  acquired* 
By  this  new  passion  grew  inspired  ; 

Through  this  she  made  all  objects  pass 
Which  gave  a tincture  o’er  the  mass  ; 

As  rivers,  though  they  bend  and  twine, 

Still  to  the  sea  their  course  incline ; 

Or,  as  philosophers,  who  find 
Some  favourite  system  to  their  mind. 

In  every  point  to  make  it  fit, 

Will  force  all  nature  to  submit. 

Cadenus,  who  could  ne’er  suspect 
His  lessons  would  have  such  effect. 

Or  be  so  artfully  applied, 

Insensibly  came  on  her  side. 

It  was  an  unforeseen  event; 

Things  took  a turn  he  never  meant. 

Whoe’er  excels  in  what  we  prize, 

Appears  a hero  in  our  eyes  : 

Each  girl,  when  pleased  with  what  is  taught. 
Will  have  the  teacher  in  her  thought. 

When  miss  delights  in  her  spinnet, 

A fiddler  may  a fortune  get ; 

A blockhead,  with  melodious  voice, 

In  boarding  schools  may  have  his  choice; 
And  oft  the  dancing-master’s  art 
Climbs  from  the  toe  to  touch  the  heart. 

In  learning  let  a nymph  delight, 

The  pedant  gets  a mistress  by’t. 

Cadenus,  to  his  grief  and  shame, 

Could  scarce  oppose  Vanessa’s  flame  • 


CADENUS  AND  VANESSA . 


493 


And,  though  her  arguments  were  strong. 

At  least  could  hardly  wish  them  wrong. 
Howe’er  it  came,  he  could  not  tell, 

But  sure  she  never  talk’d  so  well. 

His  pride  began  to  interpose  ; 

Preferr’d  before  a crowd  of  beaux  ! 

So  bright  a nymph  to  come  unsought  ! 
Such  wonder  by  his  merit  wrought  1 
*Tis  merit  must  with  her  prevail  ! 

He  never  knew  her  judgment  fail ! 

She  noted  all  she  ever  read  1 
And  had  a most  discerning  head ! 

*Tis  an  old  maxim  in  the  schools^ 

That  flattery’s  the  food  of  fools  ; 

Yet  now  and  then  your  men  of  wit 
Will  condescend  to  take  a bit 

So,  when  Cadenus  could  not  hide, 

He  chose  to  justify  his  pride  ; 

Construing  the  passion  he  had  shown. 

Much  to  her  praise,  more  to  his  own. 
Nature  to  him  had  merit  placed, 

In  her  a most  judicious  taste. 

Love,  hitherto  a transient  guest, 

Ne’er  held  possession  of  his  breast ; 

So  long  attending  at  the  gate, 

Disdain’d  to  enter  in  so  late. 

Love  why  do  we  one  passion  call, 

When  ’tis  a compound  of  them  all  ? 

Where  hot  and  cold,  where  sharp  and  swee^ 
In  all  their  equipages  meet ; 

Where  pleasures  mix’d  with  pains  appear, 
Sorrow  with  joy,  and  hope  with  fear  ; 
Wherein  his  dignity  and  age 
Forbid  Cadenus  to  engage. 

But  friendship,  in  its  greatest  height, 

A constant,  rational  delight, 

On  virtue’s  basis  fix’d  to  last, 

When  love  allurements  long  are  past, 

Which  gently  warms,  but  cannot  burn* 

He  gladly  offers  in  return ; 

His  want  of  passion  will  redeem 
With  gratitude,  respect,  esteem  j 
With  that  devotion  we  bestow 
When  goddesses  appear  below. 

While  thus  Cadenus  entertains 
Vanessa  in  exalted  strains, 

The  nymph  in  sober  words  entreats 
A truce  with  all  sublime  conceits  : 

For  why  such  raptures,  flights,  and  fancies, 
To  her  who  durst  not  read  romances  ? 


494  DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 

In  lofty  style  to  make  replies, 

Which  he  had  taught  her  to  despise? 

But  when  her  tutor  will  affect 
Devotion,  duty,  and  respect, 

He  fairly  abdicates  the  throne ; 

The  government  is  now  her  own  f 
He  has  a forfeiture  incurred  ; 

She  vows  to  take  him  at  his  word, 

And  hopes  he  will  not  think  it  strange, 

If  both  should  now  their  stations  change  J 
The  nymph  will  have  her  turn  to  be 
The  tutor,  and  the  pupil,  he  : 

Though  she  already  can  discern 
Her  scholar  is  not  apt  to  learn; 

Or  wants  capacity  to  reach 
The  science  she  designs  to  teach  j 
Wherein  his  genius  was  below 
The  skill  of  every  common  beau, 

Who,  though  he  cannot  spell,  is  wise 
Enough  to  read  a lady's  eyes. 

And  will  each  accidental  glance 
Interpret  for  a kind  advance. 

But  what  success  Vanessa  met 
Is  to  the  world  a secret  yet.  # 

Whether  the  nymph,  to  please  her  swain. 
Talks  in  a high  romantic  strain  ; 

Or  whether  he  at  last  descends 
To  act  with  less  seraphic  ends  ; 

Or,  to  compound  the  business,  whether 
They  temper  love  and  books  together; 
Must  never  to  mankind  be  told, 

Nor  shall  the  conscious  Muse  unfold. 

Meantime  the  mournful  Queen  of  Lov© 
Led  but  a weary  life  above. 

She  ventures#now  to  leave  the  skies, 
Grown  by  Vanessa’s  conduct  wise  : 

For,  though  by  one  perverse  event 
Pallas  had  cross’d  her  first  intent ; 

Though  her  design  was  not  obtain’d  j 
Yet  had  she  much  experience  gain'd, 

And,  by  the  project  vainly  tried. 

Could  better  now  the  cause  decide. 

She  gave  due  notice,  that  both  parties. 
Coram  Regina,  proof  die  Martis, 

Should  at  their  peril,  without  fail, 

Come  and  appear,  and  save  their  bail. 

All  met ; and,  silence  thrice  proclaimed. 
One  lawyer  to  each  side  was  named. 

The  judge  discover’d  in  her  face 
Resentments  for  her  late  disgrace ; 


CADENVS  AND  VANESSA. 


495 


And,  full  of  anger,  shame,  and  grief, 
Directed  them  to  mind  their  brief ; 

Nor  spend  their  time  to  show  their  reading} 
She'd  have  a summary  proceeding. 

She  gather’d  under  every  head 
The  sum  of  what  each  lawyer  said, 

Gave  her  own  reasons  last,  and  then 
Decreed  the  cause  against  the  men. 

But,  in  a weighty  case  like  this, 

To  show  she  did  not  judge  amiss, 

Which  evil  tongues  might  else  report^ 

She  made  a speech  in  open  court ; 

Wherein  she  grievously  complains, 

“ How  she  was  cheated  by  the  swains  5 
On  whose  petition  (humbly  shewing, 

That  women  were  not  worth  the  wooing* 
And  that  unless  the  sex  would  mend, 

The  race  of  lovers  soon  must  end) — 

She  was  at  Lord  knows  what  expense 
To  form  a nymph  of  wit  and  sense, 

A model  for  her  sex  design’d, 

Who  never  could  one  lover  find. 

She  saw  her  favour  was  misplaced ; 

The  fellows  had  a wretched  taste  : 

She  needs  must  tell  them  to  their  fac% 

They  were  a stupid,  senseless  race ; 

And,  were  she  to  begin  again, 

She’d  study  to  reform  the  men  ; 

Or  add  some  grains  of  folly  more 
To  women,  than  they  had  before, 

To  put  them  on  an  equal  foot ; 

And  this,  or  nothing  else,  would  do*!. 

This  might  their  mutual  fancy  strike  : 

Since  every  being  loves  its  like. 

“ But  now,  repenting  what  was  done* 

She  left  all  business  to  her  son  ; 

She  put  the  world  in  his  possession, 

And  let  him  use  it  at  discretion." 

The  crier  was  order’d  to  dismiss 
The  court,  so  made  his  last  “ O yes  P 
The  goddess  would  no  longer  wait ; 

But,  rising  from  her  chair  of  state, 

Left  all  below  at  six  and  seven, 

Harness’d  her  doves,  and  dew  to  Heave* 


♦9® 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS* 


I 


THE  FAGGOT. 


WRITTEN  WHEN  THE  MINISTRY  WERE  AT  VARIANCE^ 


BSERVE  the  dying  father  speak ; 

“ Try,  lads,  can  you  this  bundle  break!® 


Then  bids  the  youngest  of  the  six 
Take  up  a well-bound  heap  of  sticks. 

They  thought  it  was  an  old  man’s  maggot ; 
And  strove  by  turns  to  break  the  faggot : 

In  vain,  the  complicated  wands 

Were  much  too  strong  for  all  their  hands, 

“ See,”  said  the  sire,  “ how  soon  ’tis  done  i* 
Then  took  and  broke  them  one  by  one. 

* So  strong  you’ll  be,  in  friendship  tied  ; 

So  quickly  broke,  if  you  divide. 

Keep  close  then,  boys,  and  never  quarrel:® 
Here  ends  the  fable,  and  the  moral. 

This  Tale  may  be  applied  in  few  words 
To  treasurers,  comptrollers,  stewards  ; 

And  others,  who  in  solemn  sort 
Appear  with  slender  wands  at  court  ; 

Not  firmly  join’d  to  keep  their  ground, 

But  lashing  one  another  round  : 

While  wise  men  think  they  ought  to  fight 
With  quarter-staffs  instead  of  white  ; 

Or  constable  with  staff  of  peace, 

Should  come  and  make  the  clattering  ceasfc* 
Which  now  disturbs  the  queen  and  court, 
And  gives  the  Whigs  and  rabble  sport. 

In  history  we  never  found 
The  consul’s  fasces  were  unbound  : 

Those  Romans  were  too  wise  to  think  on% 
Except  to  lash  some  grand  delinquent 
How  would  they  blush  to  hear  it  said, 

The  praetor  broke  the  consul’s  head  ! 

Or  consul,  in  his  purple  gown, 

Came  up,  and  knock’d  the  praetor  down ! 

Come,  courtiers  : every  man  his  stick  I 
Lord  treasurer,  for  once  be  quick  : 

And  that  they  may  the  closer  cling. 

Take  your  blue  ribbon  for  a string. 

Come,  trimming  Harcourt,  bring  your  mac© 
And  squeeze  it  in  or  quit  your  place  : 


*713. 


IMITA  T10N  OF  HORA  CE. 


497 


Dispatch,  or  else  that  rascal  Northey* 

Will  undertake  to  do  it  for  thee  : 

And  be  assured,  the  court  will  find  him 
Prepared  to  leap  o'er  sticks,  or  bind  them. 

To  make  the  bundle  strong  and  safe. 

Great  Ormond,  lend  thy  general's  staff : 

And,  if  the  crozier  could  be  cramm'd  in, 

A fig  for  Lechmere,  King,  and  Hambaen  f 
You'll  then  defy  the  strongest  whig 
With  both  his  hands  to  bend  a twig; 

Though  with  united  strength  they  all  pull, 

From  Somers,  down  to  Craggs  and  Walpole, 

HORACE,  BOOK  I.  EP.  VII. 

ADDRESSED  TO  THE  EARL  OF  OXFORD.  171& 

HARLEY,  the  nation’s  great  support, 

Returning  home  one  day  from  court* 

(His  mind  with  public  cares  possess'd, 

All  Europe's  business  in  his  breast) 

Observed  a parson  near  Whitehall 
Cheapening  old  authors  on  a stall. 

The  priest  was  pretty  well  in  case, 

And  show'd  some  humour  in  his  face  t 
Look'd  with  an  easy,  careless  mien, 

A perfect  stranger  to  the  spleen  ; 

Of  size  that  might  a pulpit  fill. 

But  more  inclining  to  sit  still. 

My  lord  (who,  if  a man  may  say't, 

Loves  mischief  better  than  his  meat) 

Was  now  disposed  to  crack  a jest, 

And  bid  friend  Lewisf  go  in  quest 
(This  Lewis  is  a cunning  shaver, 

And  very  much  in  Harley’s  favour) 

In  quest  who  might  this  parson  be, 

What  was  his  name,  of  what  degree  ; 

If  possible,  to  learn  his  story, 

And  whether  he  were  whig  or  torv. 

Lewis  his  patron's  humour  knows, 

Away  upon  his  errand  goes, 

And  quickly  did  the  matter  sift ; 

Found  out  that  it  was  Doctor  Swift  ; 

A clergyman  of  special  note 

For  shunning  those  of  his  own  coat ; 

Which  made  his  brethren  of  the  gown 
Take  care  betimes  to  run  him  down  : 

No  libertine,  nor  over  nice, 

Addicted  to  no  sort  of  vice, 

* Sir  Edward  Northey,  Attorney-General, 
f Eramus  Lewis,  the  Treasurer's  secretary 


3* 


49* 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS 


Went  were  he  pleased,  said  what  he  thought  * 
Not  rich,  but  owed  no  man  a groat: 

In  state  opinions  a la  mode , 

He  hated  Wharton  like  a toad, 

Had  given  the  faction  many  a wound. 

And  libeird  all  the  junto  round  ; 

Kept  company  with  men  of  wit, 

Who  often  father’d  what  he  writ : 

His  works  were  hawk’d  in  every  street, 

But  seldom  rose  above  a sheet ; 

Of  late  indeed  the  paper  stamp 
Did  very  much  his  genius  cramp  ; 

And  since  he  could  not  spend  his  fire^ 

He  now  intended  to  retire. 

Said  Harley,  “ I desire  to  know 
From  his  own  mouth  if  this  be  so  ; 

Step  to  the  doctor  straight,  and  say, 

I'd  have  him  dine  with  me  to  day.” 

Swift  seem’d  to  wonder  what  he  meanly 
Nor  would  believe  my  lord  had  sent : 

So  never  offer’d  once  to  stir  ; 

But  coldly  said  Your  servant,  sir!” 

“ Does  he  refuse  me  ?”  Harley  cried  : 

“He  does,  with  insolence  and  pride.” 

Some  few  days  after,  Harley  spies 
The  doctor  fasten’d  by  the  eyes 
At  Charing-cross  among  the  rout, 

Where  painted  monsters  are  hung  out : 

He  pull’d  the  string,  and  stopt  his  coac1% 
Beckoning  the  doctor  to  approach. 

Swift,  who  could  neither  fly  nor  hide. 

Came  sneaking  to  the  chariot  side. 

And  offer’d  many  a lame  excuse  : 

He  never  meant  the  least  abuse — 

“ My  lord — the  honour  you  design’d— 
Extremely  proud— but  I had  dined— 

I’m  sure  I never  should  neglect — 

No  man  alive  has  more  respect — ” 

“ Well,  I shall  think  of  that  no  more. 

If  you’ll  be  sure  to  come  at  four.” 

The  doctor  now  obeys  the  summons, 

Likes  both  his  company  and  commons  | 
Displays  his  talents,  sits  till  ten  ; 

Next  day  invited  comes  again  : 

Soon  grows  domestic,  seldom  fails 
Either  at  morning  or  at  meals  : 

Came  early,  and  departed  late  ; 

In  short  the  gudgeon  took  the  bait^ 

My  lord  would  carry  on  the  jest, 

And  down  to  Windsor  takes  his  guest 


IMITATION  OF  HORACE. 


m 


Swift  much  admires  the  place  and  air. 

And  longs  to  be  a canon  there ; 

In  summer  round  the  park  to  ride, 

In  winter — never  to  reside. 

“A  canon!  that’s  a place  too  mean; 

No,  doctor,  you  shall  be  a dean  ; 

Two  dozen  canons  round  your  stall. 

And  you  the  tyrant  o’er  them  all ; 

You  need  but  cross  the  Irish  seas, 

To  live  in  plenty,  power,  and  ease.” 

Poor  Swift  departs  ; and  what  is  worsen 
With  borrow’d  money  in  his  gurse, 

Travels  at  least  a hundred  leagues. 

And  suffers  numberless  fatigues. 

Suppose  him  now  a dean  complete^ 

Demurely  lolling  in  his  seat ; 

The  silver  verge,  with  decent  pride, 

Stuck  underneath  his  cushion  side  ; 

Suppose  him  gone  through  all  vexation^ 

Patents,  instalments,  abjurations, 

First  fruits  and  tenths,  and  chapter-treats  ; 

Dues,  payments,  fees,  demands,  and  cheats — 

The  wicked  laity's  contriving 
To  hinder  clergymen  from  thriving. 

Now  all  the  doctor’s  money  spent, 

His  tenants  wrong  himin  his  rent  ; 

The  farmers  spitefully  combined. 

Force  him  to  take  his  tithes  in  kind; 

And  Parvisol*  discounts  arrears 
By  bills  for  taxes  and  repairs. 

Poor  Swift,  with  all  his  losses  vex'd, 

Not  knowing  where  to  turn  him  next. 

Above  a thousand  pounds  in  debt, 

Takes  horse,  and  in  a mighty  fret 
Rides  day  and  night  at  such  a rate. 

He  soon  arrives  at  Harley’s  gate  ; 

But  was  so  dirty,  pale  and  thin, 

Old  Readf  would  hardly  let  him  in. 

Said  Harley,  “ Welcome,  reverend  Dean  t 
What  makes  your  worship  look  so  lean  ? 

Why,  sure  you  won’t  appear  in  town 
In  that  old  wig  and  rusty  gown  ? 

I doubt  your  heart  is  set  on  pelf 
So  much,  that  you  neglect  yourself. 

What ! I suppose  now  stocks  are  high, 

You’ve  some  good  purchase  in  your  eye? 

Or  is  your  money  out  at  use  ?” — 

“ Truce,  good  my  lord,  I beg  a truce/ 

(The  Doctor  in  a passion  cried) 

“Your  raillery  is  misapplied; 

* The  Dean’s  agent,  a Frenchman. — Ed.  f The  Lord-Treasurer’s  portett 

32—2 


5o» 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS* 


Experience  I have  dearly  bought ; 

You  know  I am  not  worth  a groat : • 

But  you  resolved  to  have  your  jest, 

And  ’twas  a folly  to  contest  ; 

Then  since  you  now  have  done  your  worsf^ 
Pray  leave  me  where  you  found  me  first*1 


IMITATION 

OF  PART  OF  THE  SIXTH  SATIRE  OF  THE  SECOND  BOOK  OP  HORACE, 
* 1714. 

I’VE  often  wish’d  that  I had  clear, 

For  life,  six  hundred  pounds  a year, 

A handsome  house  to  lodge  a friend, 

A river  at  my  garden’s  end, 

A terrace  walk,  and  half  a rood 
Of  land  set  out  to  plant  a wood. 

Well,  now  I have  all  this  and  more^ 

I ask  not  to  increase  my  store ; 

In  short,  I’m  perfectly  content, 

Let  me  but  live  on  this  side  Trent ; 

Nor  cross  the  channel  twice  a year, 

To  spend  six  months  with  statesmen  her& 

I must  by  all  means  come  to  town; 

*Tis  for  the  service  of  the  crown. 

“ Lewis,  the  Dean  will  be  of  use, 

Send  for  him  up,  take  no  excuse.’* 

The  toil,  the  danger  of  the  seas, 

Great  ministers  ne’er  think  of  these  ; 

Or  let  it  cost  five  hundred  pound, 

No  matter  where  the  money’s  found, 

It  is  but  so  much  more  in  debt, 

And  that  they  ne’er  consider’d  yet. 

“ Good  Mr.  Dean,  go  change  your  gown, 

Let  my  lord  know  you’re  come  to  town.** 

I hurry  me  in  haste  away, 

Not  thinking  it  is  levee-day  • 

And  find  his  honour  in  a pound, 

Hemm’d  by  a triple  circle  round, 

Chequer’d  with  ribbons  blue  and  green  S 
How  should  I trust  myself  between  ? 

Some  wag  observes  me  thus  perplex’d, 

And,  smiling,  whispers  to  the  next, 
u I thought  the  Dean  had  been  too  proud* 

To  justle  here  among  a crowd  1** 

Another  in  a surly  fit, 

Tells  me  I have  more  zeal  than  wit 
1 So  eager  to  express  your  love, 

You  ne’er  consider  whom  you  shove^ 


IMITA  TION  OF  HORACE. 


501 

But  rudely  press  before  a duke.* 

I own,  I’m  pleased  with  this  rebuke^ 

And  take  it  kindly  meant,  to  show 
What  1 desire  the  world  should  know; 

I get  a whisper  and  withdraw ; 

When  twenty  fools  I never  saw 
Come  with  petitions  fairly  penn’d, 

Desiring  I would  stand  their  friend. 

This  humbly  offers  me  his  case— 

That  begs  my  interest  for  a place— 

A hundred  other  men’s  affairs. 

Like  bees,  are  humming  in  my  ears. 

44  To-morrow  my  appeal  comes  on, 

Without  your  help,  the  cause  is  gone—1 9 
The  duke  expects  my  lord  and  you, 

About  some  great  affair  at  two — 

* Put  my  Lord  Bolingbroke  in  mind* 

To  get  my  warrant  quickly  sign’d  l 
Consider,  ’tis  my  first  request*”— 

Be  satisfied,  I’ll  do  my  best : 

Then  presently  he  falls  to  tease, 

44  You  may  for  certain,  if  you  please  § 

I doubt  not  if  his  lordship  knew  ; 

And,  Mr.  Dean,  one  word  from  you — m 

*Tis  (let  me  see)  three  years  and  more^ 

(October  next  it  will  be  four) 

Since  Harley  bid  me  first  attend. 

And  chose  me  for  an  humble  friend  ; 

Would  take  mein  his  coach  to  chat, 

And  question  me  of  this  and  that ; 

As  “What’s  o’clock  ?”  and  “ How’s  the  windP 
64  Whose  chariot’s  that  we  left  behind?” 

Or  gravely  try  to  read  the  lines 
Writ  underneath  the  country  signs  ; 

Or, 44  Have  you  nothing  new  to-day 
From  Pope,  from  Parnell,  or  from  Gay?® 

Such  tattle  often  entertains 
My  lord  and  me  as  far  as  Staines, 

As  once  a week  we  travel  down 
To  Windsor,  and  again  to  town, 

Where  all  that  passes  inter  nos 
Might  be  proclaim’d  at  Charing-cros& 

Yet  some  I know  with  envy  swell, 

Because  they  see  me  used  so  well : 

€4  How  think  you  of  our  friend  the  Dean? 

1 wonder  what  some  people  mean  ! 

My  lord  and  he  are  grown  so  great, 

Always  together,  tete-a-tete  : 

What ! they  admire  him  for  his  jokes  t 
See  but  the  fortune  of  some  folks 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


There  flies  about  a strange  report 
Of  some  express  arrived  at  court : 

I’m  stopp’d  by  all  the  fools  I meet. 

And  catechised  in  every  street. 

“ You,  Mr.  Dean,  frequent  the  great  ? 

Inform  us,  will  the  emperor  treat  ? 

Or  do  the  prints  and  papers  lie  ?” 

^Faith,  sir,  you  know  as  much  as  I# 

“ Ah,  Doctor,  how  you  love  to  jest  ! 

*Tis  now  no  secret” — I protest 
*Tis  one  to  me — “ Then  tell  us,  pray, 

When  are  the  troops  to  have  their  pay?® 
And,  though  I solemnly  declare 
I know  no  more  than  my  lord  mayor, 

They  stand  amazed,  and  think  me  growa 
The  closest  mortal  ever  known. 

Thus  in  a sea  of  folly  toss’d 
My  choicest  hours  of  life  are  lostj 
Yet  always  wishing  to  retreat, 

O,  could  I see  my  country  seat ! 

There  leaning  near  a gentle  brook, 

Sleep,  or  peruse  some  ancient  book  ; 

And  there  in  sweet  oblivion  drown 
Those  cares  that  haunt  the  court  and  town, 


HORACE,  BOOK  II.  ODE  I.  PARAPHRASED 

ADDRESSED  TO  RICHARD  STEELE,  1714. 

DICK,  thou’rt  resolved,  as  I am  told, 

Some  strange  arcana  to  unfold, 

And,  with  the  help  of  Buckley’s  pen, 

To  vamp  the  good  old  cause  again  : 

Which  thou  (such  Burnet’s  shrewd  advice  is) 
Must  furbish  up,  and  nickname  Crisis. 

Thou  pompously  wilt  let  us  know 
W’hat  all  the  world  knew*iong  ago, 

(E’er  since  Sir  William  Gore  was  mayor. 

And  Harley  fill’d  the  commons*  chair) 

That  we  a German  prince  must  own, 

When  Anne  for  Heaven  resigns  her  throne. 

But,  more  than  that,  thou’lt  keep  a rout 
With — who  is  in,  and  who  is  out ; 

Thou’lt  rail  devoutly  at  the  peace, 

And  all  its  secret  causes  trace, 

The  bucket-play  ’twixt  whigs  and  tories. 

Their  ups  and  downs,  with  fifty  stories 
Of  tricks  the  Lord  of  Oxford  kno  ws, 

And  errors  of  our  plempoes. 


IMITATION  OF  HORACE. 


S&3 


Thou’It  tell  of  leagues  among  the  great, 

Portending  ruin  to  our  state  ; 

And  of  that  dreadful  coup  d? eclat, 

Which  has  afforded  thee  much  chat. 

The  queen,  forsooth  (despotic,)  gave 
Twelve  coronets  without  thy  leave  1 
A breach  of  liberty,  ;tis  own'd, 

For  which  no  heads  have  yet  atoned 
Believe  me,  what  thou’st  undertaken 
May  bring  in  jeopardy  thy  bacon  ; 

For  madmen,  children,  wits,  and  fools. 

Should  never  meddle  with  edged  tools. 

But,  since  thou’rt  got  into  the  tire,  k 

And  canstnot  easily  retire, 

Thou  must  no  longer  deal  in  farce, 

Nor  pump  to  cobble  wicked  verse  ; 

Until  thou  shalt  have  eased  thy  conscience 
Of  spleen,  of  politics,  and  nonsense ; 

And,  when  thou’st  bid  adieu  to  cares, 

And  settled  Europe’s  grand  affairs, 

'Twill  then,  perhaps,  be  worth  thy  while 
For  Drury  Lane  to  shape  thy  style ; 

To  make  a pair  of  jolly  fellows, 

The  son  and  father,  join  to  tell  us, 

How  sons  may  safely  disobey, 

And  fathers  never  should  say  nay ; 

By  which  wise  conduct  they  grow  friends 
At  last — and  so  the  story  ends.”* 

When  first  I knew  thee,  Dick,  thou  wert 
Renown’d  for  skill  in  Faustus’  art  ;+ 

Which  made  thy  closet  much  frequented 
By  buxom  lasses — some  repented 
Their  luckless  choice  of  husbands — others, 

Impatient  to  be  like  their  mothers. 

Received  from  thee  profound  directions 
How  best  to  settle  their  affections. 

Thus  thou,  a friend  to  the  distress’d, 

Didst  in  thy  calling  do  thy  best. 

But  now  the  senate  (if  things  hit 
And  thou  at  Stockbridge  wert  not  bit) 

Must  feel  thy  eloquence  and  fire, 

Approve  thy  schemes,  thy  wit  admire, 

Thee  with  immortal  honours  crown, 

While,  patriot-like,  thou’lt  strut  and  frown 
What  though  by  enemies  ’tis  said, 

The  laurel,  which  adorns  thy  head, 

• This  is  said  to  be  a plot  of  a comedy  with  which  Mr.  Steele  has  long 
threatened  the  town.  [In  some  particulars  it  would  apply  to  “ The  Consciom 
Lovers.” — Ed.] 

+ There  were  some  tolerable  grounds  for  this  reflection.  Steele  ha'3 
•dually  a laboratory  at  Poplar. — Ed. 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


Must  one  day  come  in  competition, 

By  virtue  of  some  sly  petition  : 

Yet  mum  for  that ; hope  still  the  best, 

Nor  let  such  cares  disturb  thy  rest. 

Methinks  I hear  thee  loud  as  trumpet 
As  bagpipe  shrill,  or  oyster-strumpet ; 
Methinks  I see  thee,  spruce  and  fine, 

With  coat  embroider’d  richly  shine, 

And  dazzle  all  the  idol  faces, 

As  through  the  hall  thy  worship  paces  ; 
(Though  this  I speak  but  at  a venture,  * 
Supoosing  thou  hast  tick  with  Hunter) 
Methinks  I see  a blackguard  rout 
Attend  thy  coach,  and  hear  them  shout 
In  approbation  of  thy  tongue, 

Which  (in  their  style)  is  purely  hung. 

Now  ! now  you  carry  all  before  you  ! 

Nor  dares  one  Jacobite  or  Tory 
Pretend  to  answer  one  syllable, 

Except  the  matchless  hero  Abel.* 

What  though  her  highness  and  her  spouse^ 

In  Antwerpf  keep  a frugal  house. 

Yet,  not  forgetful  of  a friend, 

They’ll  soon  enable  thee  to  spend, 

If  to  Macartney  X thou  wilt  toast* 

And  to  his  pious  patron’s  ghost 
Now  manfully  thou’lt  run  atilt 
u On  popes,  for  all  the  blood  they’ve  spilt* 
For  massacres,  and  racks,  and  flames, 

For  lands  enrich’d  by  crimson  streams, 

For  inquisitions  taught  by  Spain, 

Of  which  the  Christian  world  comploin.* 
Dick,  we  agree — all’s  true  thou’st  said. 

As  that  my  Muse  is  yet  a maid. 

But,  if  I may  with  freedom  talk, 

All  this  is  foreign  to  thy  walk  : 

Thy  genius  has  perhaps  a knack 
At  trudging  in  a beaten  track, 

But  is  for  state  affairs  as  fit 
As  mine  for  politics  and  wit. 

Then  let  us  both  in  time  grow  wise, 

Nor  higher  than  our  talents  rise  ; 

To  some  snug  cellar  let’s  repair 

From  duns  and  debts,  and  drown  our  care  ; 

Now  quaff  of  honest  ale  a quart, 

N ow  venture  at  a pint  of  port ; 

# Abel  Roper. 

f Where  the  Duke  of  Marlborough  then  resided. 
% General  Macartney,  who  killed  Duke  Hamilton. 


IMITATION  OF  HORACE. 


505 

With  which  inspired,  we’ll  club  each  night 
Some  tender  sonnet  to  indite, 

And  with  Tom  D’Urfey,  Philips,  Dennis, 

Immortalize  our  Dolls  and  Jennys. 


HORACE,  BOOi:  I.  EP.  V. 

JOHI4  DENNIS,  THE  SHELTERING  POET'S  INVITATION 
TO  RICHARD  STEELE,  THE  SECLUDED  PARTY  WRITER  AND  MEMBER* 
TO  COME  AND  LIVE  WITH  HIM  IN  THE  MINT.  1714. 


IFjhoti  canst  lay  aside  a spendthrift’s  air, 

And  condescend  to  feed  on  homely  fare, 

Such  as  we  minters,  with  ragouts  unstored, 

Will,  in  defiance  of  the  law,  afford  : 

Quit  thy  patrols  with  Toby’s  Christmas  box, 

And  come  to  me  at  The  Two  Fighting  Cocks; 

Since  printing  by  subscription  now  is  grown 
The  stalest,  idlest  cheat  about  the  town  ; 

And  even  Charles  Gild  on,  who,  a papist  bred, 

Has  an  alarm  against  that  worship  spread, 

Is  practising  those  beaten  paths  of  cruising, 

And  for  new  levies  on  Proposals  musing. 

5Tis  true,  that  Bloomsbury  Square’s  a noble  places 
But  what  are  lofty  buildings  in  thy  case  ? 

What’s  a fine  house  embellish’d  to  profusion, 

Where  shoulder  dabbers  are  in  execution  ? 

Or  whence  its  timorous  tenant  seldom  sallies 
But  apprehensive  of  insulting  bailiffs  ? 

This  once  be  mindful  of  a friend’s  advice, 

And  cease  to  be  improvidently  nice ; 

Exchange  the  prospects  that  delude  thy  sight, 

From  Highgate’s  steep  ascent  and  Hampstead’s  height. 
With  verdant  scenes,  that,  from  St.  George’s  field, 
More  durable  and  safe  enjoyments  yield. 

Here  I,  even  I,  that  ne’er  till  now  could  find 
Ease  to  my  troubled  and  suspicious  mind, 

But  ever  was  with  jealousies  possess’d, 

Am  in  a state  of  indolence  and  rest ; 

Fearful  no  more  of  Frenchmen  in  disguise, 

Nor  looking  upon  strangers  as  on  spies, 

But  quite  divested  of  my  former  spleen, 

Am  unprovoked  without,  and  calm  within  : 

And  here  I’ll  wait  thy  coming,  till  the  sun 
Shall  its  diurnal  course  completely  run. 

Think  not  that  thou  of  sturdy  bub  shalt  fail, 

My  landlord’s  cellar’s  stock’d  with  beer  and  ale, 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS . 


With  every  sort  of  malt  that  is  in  use, 

And  every  county’s  generous  produce. 

The  ready  (for  here  Christian  faith  is  sick, 

Which  makes  us  seldom  trespass  upon  tick) 
Instantly  brings  the  choicest  liquors  out, 

Whether  we  ask  for  home-brew’d  or  for  stout, 

For  mead  or  cider,  or,  with  dainties  fed, 

Ring  for  a flash  or  two  of  white  or  red, 

Such  as  the  drawer  will  not  fail  to  swear 
Was  drunk  by  Pilkington  when  third  time  irjayof# 
That  name,  methinks,  so  popularly  known  m 
For  opposition  to  the  church  and  crown. 

Might  make  the  Lusitanian  grape  to  pass. 

And  almost  give  a sanction  to  the  glass ; 

Especially  with  thee,  whose  hasty  zeal 
Against  the  late  rejected  commerce  bill  9 
Made  thee  rise  up,  like  an  audacious  elf. 

To  do  the  speaker  honour,  not  thyself. 

But,  if  thou  soar’st  above  the  common  prices, 

By  virtue  of  subscription  to  thy  Crisis, 

And  nothing  can  go  down  with  thee  but  wines 
Press’d  from  Burgundian  and  Campanian  vines, 

Bid  them  be  brought;  for,  though  I hate  the  Frenchf 
I love  their  liquors,  as  thou  lovest  a wench ; 

Else  thou  must  humble  thy  expensive  taste, 

And,  with  us,  hold  contentment  for  a feast. 

The  fire’s  already  lighted,  and  the  maid 
Has  a clean  cloth  upon  the  table  laid, 

Who  never  on  a Saturday  had  struck 
But  for  thy  entertainment,  up  a buck. 

Think  of  this  act  of  grace,  which  by  your  leave 
Susan  would  not  have  done  on  Easter  Eve, 

Had  she  not  been  inform’d  over  and  over 
*Twas  for  th’  ingenious  author  of  The  Lever. 

Cease  therefore  to  beguile  thyself  with  hopes, 
Which  is  no  more  than  making  sandy  ropes, 

And  quit  the  vain  pursuit  of  loud  applause, 

That  must  bewilder  thee  in  faction’s  cause. 

Prithee  what  is’t  to  thee  who  guides  the  state? 

Why  Dunkirk’s  demolition  is  so  late  ? 

Or  why  her  Majesty  thinks  fit  to  cease 
The  din  of  war,  and  hush  the  world  to  peace  ? 

The  clergy  too,  without  thy  aid,  can  tell 
What  texts  to  choose,  and  on  what  topics  dwell  ; 
And,  uninstructed  by  thy  babbling,  teach 
Their  flocks  celestial  happiness  to  reach. 

Rather  let  such  poor  souls  as  you  and  I, 

Say  that  the  holidays  are  drawing  nigh, 

And  that  to-morrow’s  sun  begins  the  week, 

Which  will  abound  with  store  of  ale  and  cake, 


IMITATION  OF  NO  FACE. 


507 


With  hams  of  bacon,  and  with  powder'd  beef, 

Stuff'd  to  give  field-itinerants  relief. 

Then  I,  who  have  within  these  precincts  kept, 

And  ne'er  beyond  the  chimney-sweeper’s  stept, 

Will  take  a loose,  and  venture  to  be  seen, 

Since  'twill  be  Sunday,  upon  Shanks's  Green  ; 

There,  with  erected  looks  and  phrase  sublime, 

To  talk  of  unity  of  place  and  time, 

And  with  much  malice,  mix'd  with  little  satire, 

Explode  the  wits  on  t'other  side  o'  th'  water. 

Why  has  my  Lord  Godolphin's  special  grace 
Invested  me  with  a queen's  waiter's  place, 

If  I,  debarr'd  of  festival  delights, 

Am  not  allow’d  to  spend  the  perquisites  ? 

He's  but  a short  remove  from  being  mad, 

Who  at  a time  of  jubilee  is  sad, 

And,  like  a griping  usurer,  does  spare 
His  money  to  be  squander’d  by  his  heir  5 
Flutter'd  away  in  liveries,  and  in  coaches, 

And  washy  sorts  of  feminine  debauches. 

As  for  my  part,  whate'er  the  world  may  think, 

I'll  bid  adieu  to  gravity,  and  drink  : 

And,  though  I can't  put  off  a woful  mien, 

Will  be  all  mirth  and  cheerfulness  within  : 

As,  in  despite  of  a censorious  race, 

I most  incontinently  suck  my  face. 

What  mighty  projects  does  not  he  design, 

Whose  stomach  flows,  and  brain  turns  round  with  wine? 
Wine,  powerful  wine,  can  thaw  the  frozen  cit, 

And  fashion  him  to  humour  and  to  wit ; 

Makes  even  to  disclose  his  art, 

By  racking  every  secret  from  his  heart, 

As  he  flings  off  the  statesman's  sly  disguise, 

To  name  the  cuckold's  wife  with  whom  he  lies. 

Even  Sarum,  when  he  quaffs  it  stead  of  tea, 

Fancies  himself  in  Canterbury's  see, 

And  S******  when  he  carousing  reels, 

Imagines  that  he  has  regain'd  the  seals  2 
W******,  by  virtue  of  his  juice,  can  fight, 

And  Stanhope  of  commissioners  make  light 
Wine  gives  Lord  Wingham  aptitude  of  parts, 

And  swells  him  with  his  family's  deserts  : 

Whom  can  it  not  make  eloquent  of  speech  ; 

Whom  in  extremest  poverty  not  rich  ? 

Since,  by  the  means  of  the  prevailing  grape, 

Th*^**n  can  Lechmere's  warmth  not  only  ape* 

But,  half  seas  o'er,  by  its  inspiring  bounties, 

Can  qualify  himself  in  several  counties. 

What  I have  promised,  thou  may’st  rest  assured, 

Shall  faithlully  and  gladly  be  procured. 


goS 


LEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS 


Nay,  I’m  already  better  than  my  word, 

New  plates  and  knives  adorn  the  jovial  board : 

And,  lest  thou  at  their  sight  shouldst  make  wry  faces. 

The  girl  has  scour’d  the  pots,  and  wash’d  the  glasses, 

Ta’en  care  so  excellently  we.ll  to  clean  ’em. 

That  thou  mayst  see  thine  own  dear  picture  in  ’em. 

Moreover,  due  provision  has  been  made, 

That  conversation  may  not  be  betray’d  ; 

3 have  no  company  but  what  is  proper 
To  sit  with  the  most  flagrant  whig  at  supper. 

There’s  not  a man  among  them  but  must  please^ 

Since  they’re  as  like  each  other  as  are  peas. 

Toland  and  Hare  have  jointly  sent  me  word 
They’ll  come  ; and  Kennet  thinks  to  make  a third. 

Provided  he’s  no  other  invitation, 

From  men  of  greater  quality  and  station. 

Room  will  for  Oldmixon  and  J — s be  left: 

But  their  discourses  smell  so  much  of  theft, 

There  would  be  no  abiding  in  the  room, 

Should  two  such  ignorant  pretenders  come* 

However  by  this  trusty  bearer  write, 

If  I should  any  other  scabs  invite  ; 

Though  if  I may  my  serious  judgment  give, 

I’m  wholly  for  King  Charles’s  number  five  : 

That  was  the  stint  in  which  that  monarch  fix’d, 

Who  would  not  be  with  noisiness  perplex’d : 

And  that,  if  thou’lt  agree  to  think  it  best, 

Shall  be  our  tale  of  heads,  without  one  other  guest# 

I’ve  nothing  more,  now  this  is  said,  to  say,  \ 

But  to  request  thou’lt  instantly  away,  < 

And  leave  the  duties  of  thy  present  post. 

To  some  well-skill’d  retainer  in  a host : 

Doubtless  he’ll  carefully  thy  place  supply. 

And  o’er  his  grace’s  horses  have  an  eye. 

While  thou,  who  slunk  through  postern  more  than  once, 

Dost  by  that  means  avoid  a crowd  of  duns, 

And,  crossing  o’er  the  Thames  at  Temple  Stairs, 

Leavest  Philips  with  good  words  to  cheat  their  cars. 

' 

INSICKNESS. 

WRITTEN  IN  IRELAND  IN  OCTOBER,  1714. 

•HT' IS  true — then  why  should  I repine 
X To  see  my  life  so  fast  decline? 

But  why  obscurely  here  alone, 

Where  I am  neither  loved  nor  known  ? 

My  state  of  health  none  care  to  learn  ; 

My  life  is  here  no  soul’s  concern  : 

And  those  with  whom  I now  converse 
Without  a tear  will  tend  my  hearse. 


THE  FABLE  OF  THE  BITCHES. 


Removed  from  kind  Arbuthnot’s  aid, 
Who  knows  his  art  but  not  his  trade, 
Preferring  his  regard  for  me 
Before  his  credit,  or  his  fee. 

Some  formal  Visits,  looks,  and  words, 
What  mere  humanity  affords, 

I meet  perhaps  from  three  or  four, 

From  whom  I once  expected  more ; 
Which  those  who  tend  the  sick  for  pay 
Can  act  as  decently  as  they  : 

But  no  obliging  tender  friend 
To  help  at  my  approaching  end. 

My  life  is  now  a burden  grown 
To  others,  ere  it  be  my  own. 

Ye  formal  weepers  for  the  sick, 

In  your  last  offices  be  quick  ; 

And  spare  my  absent  friends  the  grief 
To  hear,  yet  give  me  no  relief ; 

Expired  to-day,  intomb’d  to-morrow, 
When  known,  will  save  a double  sorrow. 


THE  FABLE  OF  THE  BITCHES. 

WRITTEN  IN  THE  YEAR  1715. 

ON  AN  ATTEMPT  TO  REPEAL  THE  TEST  ACT. 

A BITCH  that  was  full  pregnant  grown. 

By  all  the  dogs  and  curs  in  town, 

Finding  her  ripen’d  time  was  come, 

Her  litter  teeming  from  her  womb. 

Went  here  and  there,  and  everywhere, 

To  find  an  easy  place  to  lay  her. 

At  length  to  Music’s  house*  she  came, 

And  begg’d  like  one  both  blind  and  lame ; 

“ My  only  friend,  my  dear,”  said  she, 

u You  see  ’tis  mere  necessity 

Hath  sent  me  to  your  house  to  whelp : 

I die  if  you  refuse  your  help.” 

With  fawning  whine,  and  rueful  tone, 

With  artful  sigh,  and  feigned  groan, 

With  couchant  cringe,  and  flattering  tale, 

Smooth  Bawtyf  did  so  far  prevail, 

That  Music  gave  her  leave  to  litter  ; 

(But  mark  what  follow’d — ’faith  ! she  bit  her) 

Whole  baskets  full  of  bits  and  scraps, 

And  broth  enough  to  fill  her  paps  ; 

• The  Church  of  England. 

+ A Scotch  name  for  a bitch,  alluding  to  the  Kir*. 


5io 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


For,  well  she  knew,  her  numerous  brood, 

For  want  of  milk,  would  suck  her  blood. 

But  when  she  thought  her  pains  were,  dona. 

And  now  ’twas  high  time  to  be  gone  ; 

In  civil  terms,— “ My  friend,”  said  she, 

“ My  house  you’ve  had  on  courtesy  ; 

And  now  I earnestly  desire 

That  you  would  with  your  cubs  retire  ; 

For,  should  you  stay  but  one  week  longer, 

I shall  be  starved  with  cold  and  hunger.” 

The  guest  replied—4  My  friend,  your  leave 
I must  a little  longer  crave  ; 

Stay  till  my  tender  cubs  can  find 

Their  way— for  now,  you  see  they’re  blind  ; 

But,  when  we’ve  gather’d  strength,  I swear, 

We’ll  to  our  barn  again  repair.” 

The  time  pass’d  on  ; and  Music  came, 

Her  kennel  once  again  to  claim  ; 

But  Bawtv,  lost  to  shame  and  honour, 

Set  all  her  cubs  at  once  upon  her  ; 

Made  her  retire,  and  quit  her  right, 

And  loudly  cried — “ A bite ! a bite  l* 

THE  MORAL. 

Thus  did  the  Grecian  wooden  horse 
Conceal  a fatal  armed  force : 

No  sooner  brought  within  the  walls, 

But  Ilium’s  lost  and  Priam  ialls.  j 

\ 

HORACE,  BOOK  III.  ODE  If. 

TO  THE  EARL  OF  OXFORD,  LATE  LORD  TREASURER* 
SENT  TO  HIM  WHEN  IN  THE  TOWER,  1716. 

HOW  blest  is  he,  who  for  his  country  dies. 

Since  death  pursues  the  coward  as  he  dies  ! 

The  youth  in  vain  would  fly  from  Fate’s  attack, 

With  trembling  knees  and  Terror  at  his  back  ; ; 

Though  Fear  should  lend  him  pinions  like  the  wind. 

Yet  swifter  Fate  will  seize  him  from  behind. 

Virtue  repulsed,  yet  knows  not  to  repine ; 

But  shall  with  unattainted  honour  shine  ; 

Nor  stoops  to  take  the  staff,*  nor  lays  it  down, 

Just  as  the  rabble  please  to  smile  or  frown. 

Virtue,  to  crown  her  favourites,  loves  to  try 
Some  new  unbeaten  passage  to  the  sky  ; 

Where  Jove  a seat  among  the  gods  will  give 
To  those  who  die,  for  meriting  to  live. 

* The  ensign  of  the  Lord  Treasurer’s  office. 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  LOVE, 


Next  faithful  Silence  hath  a sure  reward  ; 
Within  our  breast  be  every  secret  barr’d  ! 

He,  who  betrays  his  friend,  shall  never  be 
Under  one  roof,  or  in  one  ship  with  me. 

For  who  with  traitors  would  his  safety  trust, 
Lest  with  the  wicked  Heaven  involve  the  just  f 
And,  though  the  villain  ’scape  awhile,  he  feels 
Slow  vengeance  like  a bloodhound  at  his  heel*. 


PHYLLIS  ; 

OR*  THE  PROGRESS  OF  LOVE,  1716. 

DESPONDING  Phyllis  was  endued 
With  every  talent  of  a prude  : 

She  trembled  when  a man  drew  near ; 

Salute  her,  and  she  turn’d  her  ear  : 

If  o’er  against  her  you  were  placed, 

She  durst  not  look  above  your  waist : 

She’d  rather  take  you  to  her  bed, 

Than  let  you  see  her  dress  her  head  ; 

In  church  you  hear  her  through  the  crowd. 
Repeat  the  absolution  loud  : 

In  church,  secure  behind  her  fan, 

She  durst  behold  that  monster  man  : 

There  practised  how  to  place  her  head, 

And  bite  her  lips  to  make  them  red ; 

Or,  on  ths  mat  devoutly  kneeling, 

Would  lift  her  eyes  up  to  the  ceiling, 

And  heave  her  bosom  unaware, 

For  neighbouring  beaux  to  see  it  bare. 

At  length  a lucky  lover  came, 

And  found  admittance  to  the  dame. 

Suppose  all  parties  now  agreed, 

The  writings  drawn,  the  lawyer  fee’d  ; 

The  vicar  and  the  ring  bespoke  : 

Guess,  how  could  such  a match  be  broke? 
See  then  what  mortals  place  their  bliss  in ! 
Next  morn  by  times  the  bride  was  missing: 
The  mother  screamed,  the  father  chid ; 
Where  can  this  idle  wench  be  hid  ? 

No  news  of  Phil ! the  bridegroom  came, 

And  thought  his  bride  had  skulk’d  for  shame 3 
Because  her  father  used  to  say, 

The  girl  had  such  a bashful  way  ! 

Now  John  the  butler  must  be  sent 
To  learn  the  road  that  Phyllis  went : 

The  groom  was  wish’d  to  saddle  crop  f 
For  John  must  neither  light  nor  stop, 


512 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


But  find  her,  wheresoe’er  she  fled, 

And  bring  her  back  alive  or  dead. 

See  here  again  the  devil  to  do  ! 

For  truly  John  was  missing  too  : 

The  horse  and  pillion  both  were  gone  S 
Phyllis  it  seems,  was  fled  with  John. 

Old  Madam,  who  went  up  to  find 
What  papers  Phyl  had  left  behind, 

A letter  on  the  toilet  sees. 

To  my  much  honour’d  father— these— 
(’Tis  always  done,  romances  tell  us, 

When  daughters  run  away  with  fellows) 
Fill’d  with  the  choicest  commonplaces, 

By  others  used  in  the  like  cases. 

€t  That  long  ago  a fortune-teller 
Exactly  said  what  now  befell  her  l 
And  in  a glass  had  made  her  see 
A serving-man  of  low  degree. 

It  was  her  fate,  must  be  forgiven  ; 

For  marriages  were  made  in  heaven  ; 

His  pardon  begg’d  : but,  to  be  plain, 

She’d  do’t  if ’twere  to  do  again  : 

Thank’d  God  ’twas  neither  shame  nor  siaf 
For  John  was  come  of  honest  kin. 

Love  never  thinks  of  rich  and  poor 
She’d  beg  with  John  from  door  to  door. 
Forgive  her,  if  it  be  a crime  ; 

She’ll  never  do’t  another  time. 

She  ne’er  before  in  all  her  life  • 

Once  disobey’d  him,  maid  nor  wife. 

One  argument  she  summ’d  up  all  in, 

The  thing  was  done,  and  past  recalling ; 
And  therefore  hoped  she  should  recover 
His  favour,  when  his  passion’s  over. 

She  valued  not  what  others  thought  her, 
And  was — his  most  obedient  daughter.” 
Fair  maidens  all  attend  the  Muse, 

Who  now  the  wandering  pair  pursues  : 
Away  they  rode  in  homely  sort, 

Their  journey  long,  their  money  short ; 
The  loving  couple  well  bemired  ; 

The  horse  and  both  the  riders  tired  : 

Their  victuals  bad,  their  lodging  worse  ; 
Phyl  cried  ! and  John  began  to  curse  : 

Phyl  wish’d  that  she  had  strain’d  a limb 
When  first  she  ventured  out  with  him  ; 
John  wish’d  that  he  had  broke  a leg 
When  first  for  her  he  quitted  Peg. 

But  what  adventures  more  befel  them, 
Muse  has  now  no  time  to  tell  them* 


I MI  TATION  OF  HORACE. 


5U 


How  Johnny  wheedled,  threaten’d,  fawn’d. 
Till  Phyllis  all  her  trinkets  pawn’d  : 

How  oft  she  broke  her  marriage  vows 
In  kindness  to  maintain  her  spouse, 

Till  swains  unwholesome  spoil’d  the  trade $ 
For  now  the  surgeons  must  be  paid, 

To  whom  those  perquisites  are  gone, 

In  Christian  justice  due  to  John. 

When  food  and  raiment  now  grew  scarce 
Fate  put  a period  to  the  farce, 

And  with  exact  poetic  justice  ; 

For  John  was  landlord,  Phyllis  hostess  ; 
They  keep,  at  Staines,  the  Old  Blue  Boar, 
Are  cat  and  dog,  and  rogue  and  where. 


HORACE,  BOOK  IV.  ODE  IX. 

4DDRESSED  TO  ARCHBISHOP  KING.  I718I 


IRTUE  conceal’d  within  our  breast 


Is  inactivity  at  best  : 

But  never  shall  the  Muse  endure 
To  let  your  virtues  lie  obscure ; 

Or  suffer  Envy  to  conceal 
Your  labours  for  the  public  weal. 

Within  your  breast  all  wisdom  lies, 
Either  to  govern  or  advise  ; 

Your  steady  soul  preserves  her  frame. 

In  good  and  evil  times  the  same. 

Pale  Avarice  and  lurking  Fraud, 

Stand  in  your  sacred  presence  awed  ; 
Your  hand  alone  from  gold  abstains, 
Which  drags  the  slavish  world  in  chains* 
Him  for  ?.  happy  man  I own, 

Whose  fortune  is  not  overgrown  ; 

And  happy  he  who  wisely  knows 
To  use  the  gifts  that  Heaven  bestows  { 
Or,  if  it  please  the  Powers  Divine, 

Can  suffer  want,  and  not  repine. 

The  man,  who  infamy  to  shun 
Into  the  arms  of  death  would  run  5 
That  man  is  ready  to  defend, 

With  life,  his  country  or  his  friend* 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


5M 


TO  MR.  DELANY, 

NOV.  IO,  1718. 

TO  you  whose  virtues,  1 must  own 

With  shame,  I have  too  lately  knowi& 
To  you  by  art  and  nature  taught 
To  be  the  man  I long  have  sought, 

Had  notill  Fate,  perverse  and  blind, 
Placed  you  in  life  too  far  behind  : 

Or  what  1 should  repine  at  more, 

Placed  me  in  life  too  far  before  : 

] To  you  the  Muse  this  verse  bestows, 

I Which  might  as  well  have  been  in  prose  3 
No  thought,  no  fancy,  no  sublime, 

But  simple  topics  told  in  rhyme. 

Talents  for  conversation  fit 
Are  humour,  breeding,  sense  and  wit : 
The  last,  as  boundless  as  the  wind, 

Is  well  conceived,  though  not  defined  : 

F or,  sure  by  wit  is  chiefly  meant 
Applying  well  what  we  invent. 

What  humour  is,  not  all  the  tribe 
Of  logic-mongers  can  describe  ; 

Here  Nature  only  acts  her  part, 

Unhelp  d by  practice,  books,  or  art : 

For  wit  and  humour  differ  quite  ; 

That  gives  surprise,  and  this  delight. 
Humour  is  odd,  grotesque  and  wild, 

Only  by  affectation  spoil’d  : 

’Tis  never  by  invention  got, 

Men  have  it  when  they  know  it  not. 

Our  conversation  to  refine, 

Humour  and  wit  must  both  combine  : 

F rom  both  we  learn  to  rally  well, 

Wherein  sometimes  the  French  e>cel$ 
Voiture,  in  various  lights,  displays 
That  irony  which  turns  to  praise  : 

His  genius  first  found  out  the  rule 
F or  an  obliging  ridicule  : 

He  flatters  with  peculiar  air 
The  brave,  the  witty,  and  the  fair ; 

And  fools  would  fancy  he  intends 
A satire  where  he  most  commends. 

But  as  a poor  pretending  beau, 

Because  he  fain  would  make  a show. 

Nor  can  arrive  at  silver  lace, 

Takes  up  with  copper  in  the  place  : 

So  the  pert  dunces  of  mankind, 

Whene’er  they  would  be  thought  refined* 


TO  MR.  DELANY. 


5*5 


As  if  the  difference  lay  abstruse 
•Twixt  raillery  and  gross  abuse  ; 

^ To  show  their  parts,  will  scold  and  rail. 
Like  porters  o’er  a pot  of  ale. 

Such  is  that  clan  of  boisterous  bears, 
Always  together  by  the  ears  ; 

Shrewd  fellows  and  arch  wags,  a tribe 
That  meet  for  nothing  but  a gibe  ; 

Who  first  run  one  another  down, 

And  then  fall  foul  on  all  the  town  ; 

Skill’d  in  the  horse-laugh  and  dry  rub, 

And  call’d  by  excellence  The  Club. 

I mean  your  Butler,  Dawson,  Car, 

All  special  friends,  and  always  jar. 

The  mettled  and  the  vicious  steed 
Differ  as  little  in  their  breed  ! 

Nay,  Voiture  is  as  like  Tom  Leigh, 

As  rudeness  is  to  repartee. 

If  what  you  said  I wish  unspoke. 

•Twill  not  suffice  it  was  a joke  ; 

Reproach  not,  though  in  jest,  a friend 
For  those  defects  he  cannot  mend  ; 

His  lineage,  calling,  shape,  or  sense, 

If  named  with  scorn  gives  just  offence. 

What  use  in  life  to  make  men  fret, 

Part  in  worse  humour  than  they  met  ? 

Thus  all  society  is  lost, 

Men  laugh  at  one  another’s  cost ; 

And  half  the  company  is  teased 
That  came  together  to  be  pleased  $ 

For  all  buffoons  have  most  in  view 
To  please  themselves  by  vexing  you. 

You  wonder  now  to  see  me  write 
So  gravely  on  a subject  light  ; 

Some  part  of  what  I here  design 
Regards  a friend  * of  yours  and  mine  ; 

Who  neither  void  of  sense  nor  wit, 

Yet  seldom  judges  what  is  fit, 

But  sallies  oft  beyond  his  bounds, 

And  takes  unmeasurable  rounds. 

When  jests  are  carried  on  too  far. 

And  the  loud  laugh  begins  the  war, 

You  keep  your  countenance  for  shame. 

Yet  still  you  think  your  friend  to  blame  : 

For  though  men  cry  they  love  a jest, 

•Tis  but  when  others  stand  the  test ; 

And  (would  you  have  their  meaning  knovm) 
They  love  a jest  that  is  their  own. 

You  must  although  the  point  be  nice, 
Bestow  your  friend  some  good  advice  ; 

* Dr.  Sheridan. 


5i6 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


One  hint  from  you  will  set  him  right, 
And  teach  him  how  to  be  polite. 

Bid  him  like  you  observe  with  care, 
Whom  to  be  hard  on,  whom  to  spare  f 
Nor  indistinctly  to  suppose 
All  subjects  like  Dan  Jackson’s  nose; 

To  study  the  obliging  jest, 

By  reading  those  who  teach  it  best ; 

For  prose  I recommend  Voiture’s, 

For  verse  (I  speak  my  judgment)  your* 
He’ll  find  the  secret  out  from  thence. 

To  rhyme  all  day  without  offence  ; 

And  I no  more  shall  then  accuse 
The  flirts  of  his  ill-manner’ d muse. 

If  he  be  guilty,  you  must  mend  him? 
If  he  be  innocent,  defend  him. 


STELLAS  BIRTHDAY. 

MARCH  13,  X718—I9. 

STELLA  this  day  is  thirty-four, 

(We  sha’n’t  dispute  a year  or  more) 
However  Stella,  be  not  troubled, 

Although  thy  size  and  years  are  doubled 
Since  first  I saw  thee  at  sixteen, 

The  brightest  virgin  on  the  green  : 

So  little  is  thy  form  declined, 

Made  up  so  largely  in  thy  mind. 

O,  would  it  please  the  gods  to  split 
Thy  beauty,  size,  and  years,  and  wit  1 
No  age  could  furnish  out  a pair 
Of  nymphs  so  graceful,  wise,  and  fair  ; 
With  half  the  lustre  of  your  eyes, 

With  half  your  wit,  your  years,  and  size; 
And  then,  before  it  grew  too  late, 

How  should  I beg  of  gentle  Fate, 

(That  either  nymph  might  have  her  swain) 
To  split  my  worship  too  in  twain  1 

STELLA’S  BIRTHDAY. 
1719—20. 

LL  travellers  at  first  incline 


Where’er  they  see  the  fairest  signt 
And  if  they  find  the  chambers  neat, 

And  like  the  liquor  and  the  meat, 

Will  call  again,  and  recommend 
The  Angel  Inn  to  every  friend. 


STELLA'S  BIRTH  DA  Y. 


5i7 


What  though  the  painting  grows  decay'd. 
The  house  will  never  lose  its  trade  : 

Kay,  though  the  treacherous  tapster  Thonia** 
Hangs  anew  Angel  two  doors  from  us, 

As  fine  as  dauber's  hands  can  make  it. 

In  hopes  that  strangers  may  mistake  it* 

We  think  it  both  a shame  and  sin 
To  quit  the  true  old  Angel  Inn. 

Now  this  is  Stella's  case  in  fact,  \ , 

An  angel's  face  a little  crack'd, 

Could  poets  or  could  painters  fix 
How  angels  look  at  thirty-six  : 

This  drew  us  in  at  first  to  find 
In  such  a form  an  angel's  mind; 

And  every  virtue  now  supplies 
The  fainting  rays  of  Stella's  eyes. 

See  at  her  levee  crowding  swains, 

Whom  Stella  freely  entertains 

With  breeding,  humour,  wit,  and  sensCfc 

And  puts  them  but  to  small  expense  ; 

Their  mind  so  plentifully  fills, 

And  makes  such  reasonable  bills, 

So  little  gets  for  what  she  gives, 

We  really  wonder  how  she  lives  ! 

And  had  her  stock  been  less,  no  doubt 
She  must  have  long  ago  run  out. 

Then  who  can  think  we’ll  quit  the  plac^ 
When  Doll  hangs  out  a newer  face? 

Or  stop  and  light  at  Chloe’s  head, 

With  scraps  and  leavings  to  be  fed  ? 

Then,  Chloe,  still  go  on  to  prate 
Of  thirty-six  and  thirty-eight ; 

Pursue  your  trade  of  scandal-picking,  i 
Your  hints,  that  Stella  is  no  chicken ; \ 

Your  innuendoes,  when  you  tell  us, 

That  Stella  loves  to  talk  with  fellows : 

And  let  me  warn  you  to  believe 
A truth,  for  which  your  soul  should  grieve  g 
That  should  you  live  to  see  the  day, 

When  Stella's  locks  must  all  be  gray, 

When  age  must  print  a furrow'd  trace 
On  every  feature  of  her  face  ; 

Though  you,  and  all  your  senseless  tribe^ 
Could  art,  or  time,  or  nature  bribe, 

To  make  you  look  like  Beauty's  Queen, 

And  hold  for  ever  at  fifteen  ; 

No  bloom  of  youth  can  ever  blind 
The  cracks  and  wrinkles  of  your  mind  $ 

All  men  of  sense  will  pass  your  door, 

And  crowd  to  Stellas  at  fourscore. 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


TO  STELLA; 


WHO  COLLECTED  AND  TRANSCRIBED  HIS  POEMS,  1720.. 


We  never  hear  the  workmen  praised, 
Who  bring  the  lime  or  place  the  stones. 

But  all  admire  Inigo  Jones  : 

So,  if  this  pile  of  scatter’d  rhymes 
Should  be  approved  in  after  times  ; 

If  it  both  pleases  and  endures, 

The  merit  and  the  praise  are  yours. 

Thou,  Stella,  wert  no  longer  young, 

When  first  for  thee  my  harp  was  strung, 
Without  one  word  of  Cupid’s  darts, 

Of  killing  eyes,  or  bleeding  hearts  ; 

With  Friendship  and  Esteem  possess’d, 

I ne’er  admitted  Love  a guest. 

In  all  the  habitudes  of  life, 

The  friend,  the  mistress,  and  the  wife, 
Variety  we  still  pursue, 

In  pleasure  seek  for  something  new ; 

Or  else,  comparing  with  the  rest, 

Take  comfort;  that  our  own  is  best ; 

The  best  we  value  by  the  worst, 

As  tradesmen  shew  their  trash  at  first ; 

But  his  pursuits  are  at  an  end, 

Whom  Stella  chooses  for  a friend. 

A poet  starving  in  a garret, 

Conning  all  topics  like  a parrot, 

Invokes  his  Mistress  and  his  Muse, 

And  stays  at  home  for  want  of  shoes  : 

Should  but  his  Muse  descending  drop 
A slice  of  bread  and  mutton-chop  j 
Or  kindly,  when  his  credit’s  out, 

Surprise  him  with  a pint  of  stout  ; 

Or  patch  his  broken  stocking  soles, 

Or  send  him  in  a peck  of  coals  ; 

Exalted  in  his  mighty  mind, 

He  flies  and  leaves  the  stars  behind  : 

Counts  all  his  labours  amply  paid, 

Adores  her  for  the  timely  aid. 

Or,  should  a porter  make  inquiries 
For  Chloe,  Sylvia,  Phyllis,  Iris  ; 

Be  told  the  lodging,  lane,  and  sign, 

The  bowers  that  hold  those  nymphs  divine  f 
Fair  Chloe,  would  perhaps  be  found 
With  footmen  tippling  under  ground ; 


S,  when  a lofty  pile  is  raised, 


TO  STELLA . 


5i* 


The  charming  Sylvia  beating  flax, 

Her  shoulders  mark’d  with  bloody  tracks  ; 
Bright  Phyllis  mending  ragged  smocks  : 

And  radiant  Iris  in  the  pox. 

These  are  the  goddesses  enroll’d 
In  Curll’s  collection,  new  and  old, 

Whose  scoundrel  fathers  would  not  know  ’em* 
If  they  should  meet  them  in  a poem. 

True  poets  can  depress  and  raise, 

Are  lords  of  infamy  and  praise  ; 

They  are  not  scurrilous  in  satire, 

Nor  will  in  panegyric  flatter. 

Unjustly  poets  we  asperse  : 

Truth  shines  the  brighter  clad  in  verse, 

And  all  the  Actions  they  pursue 
Do  but  insinuate  what  is  true. 

Now,  should  my  praises  owe  their  truth 
To  beauty,  dress,  or  paint  or  youth, 

What  stoics  call  without  our  power, 

They  could  not  be  ensured  an  hour  : 

’Twere  grafting  on  an  annual  stock, 

That  must  our  expectation  mock, 

And,  making  one  luxuriant  shoot, 

Die  the  next  year  for  want  of  root : 

Before  I could  my  verses  bring, 

Perhaps  you’re  quite  another  thing. 

So  Maevius,  when  he  drain’d  his  skull 
To  celebrate  some  suburb  trul). 

His  similes  in  order  set, 

And  every  crambo  he  could  get, 

Had  gone  through  all  the  common-places 
Worn  out  by  wits,  who  rhyme  on  faces  : 
Before  he  could  his  poem  close, 

The  lovely  nymph  had  lost  her  nose. 

Your  virtues  safely  I commend  ; 

They  on  no  accidents  depend  : 

Let  malice  look  with  all  her  eyes, 

She  dares  not  say  the  poet  lies. 

Stella,  when  you  these  lines  transcribe 
Lest  you  should  take  them  for  a bribe, 
Resolved  to  mortify  your  pride, 

HI  here  expose  your  weaker  side. 

Your  spirits  kindle  to  a flame, 

Moved  with  the  lightest  touch  of  blame  ; 

And  when  a friend  in  kindness  tries 
To  show  you  where  your  error  lies, 

Conviction  does  but  more  incense  : 
Perverseness  is  your  whole  defence  : 

Truth,  judgment,  wit,  give  place  to  spite* 
Regardless  both  of  wrong  and  right : 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


Your  virtues  all  suspended  wait 
Till  Time  has  open’d  Reason’s  gate  : 

And,  what  is  worse,  your  passion  bends 
Its  force  against  your  nearest  friends, 
Which  manners,  decency  and  pride, 
Have  taught  you  from  the  world  to  hide  ; 

In  vain  ; for  see,  your  friend  has  brought 
To  public  light  your  only  fault ; 

And  yet  a fault  we  often  find 
Mix’d  in  a noble  generous  mind  ; 

And  may  compare  to  Aetna’s  fire 
Which,  though  with  trembling,  all  admire  | 
The  heat,  that  makes  the  summit  glow, 
Enriching  all  the  vales  below. 

Those  who  in  warmer  climes  complain 
From  Phoebus’  rays  they  suffer  pain, 

Must  own  that  pain  is  largely  paid 
By  generous  wines  beneath  a shade. 

Yet,  when  I find  your  passions  rise, 

And  anger  sparkling  in  your  eyes, 

I grieve  those  spirits  should  be  spent. 

For  nobler  ends  by  nature  meant. 

One  passion  with  a different  turn, 

Makes  wit  inflame,  or  anger  burn  : 

So  the  sun’s  heat,  with  different  powers, 
Ripens  the  grape,  the  liquor  sours  : 

Thus  Ajax,  when  with  rage  possess’d 
By  Pallas  breathed  into  his  breast, 

His  valour  wTould  no  more  employ, 

Which  might  alone  have  conquer’d  Troy  $ 
But,  blinded  by  resentment,  seeks 
For  vengeance  on  his  friends  the  Greeks* 

You  think  this  turbulence  of  blood 
From  stagnating  preserves  the  flood. 
Which,  thus  fermenting  by  degrees. 

Exalts  the  spirits,  sinks  the  lees. 

Stella,  for  once  you  reason  wrong  5 
For,  should  this  ferment  last  too  long, 

By  time  subsiding,  you  may  find 
Nothing  but  acid  left  behind  ; 

From  passion  you  may  then  be  freed, 
When  peevishness  and  spleen  succeed* 
Say,  Stella,  when  you  copy  next, 

Will  you  keep  strictly  to  the  text  ? 

Dare  you  let  these  reproaches  stand. 

And  to  your  failing  set  your  hand? 

Or,  if  these  lines  your  anger  fire, 

Shall  they  in  baser  flames  expire  ? 
Whene’er  they  burn,  if  burn  they  must* 
They’ll  prove  my  accusation  just. 


TO  STELLA. 


531 


TO  STELLA. 


▼ISITING  ME  IN  MY  SICKNESS.  172a 

PALLAS,  observing  Stella’s  wit 

Was  more  than  for  her  sex  was 
And  that  her  beauty,  soon  or  late. 

Might  breed  confusion  in  the  state. 

In  high  concern  for  human  kind,  • 

Fix’d  honour  in  her  infant  mind. 

But  (not  in  wranglings  to  engago 
With  such  a stupid  vicious  age) 

If  honour  I would  here  define, 

It  answers  faith  in  things  divine. 

As  natural  life  the  body  warms, 

And,  scholars  teach,  the  soul  informs  5 
So  honour  animates  the  whole, 

And  is  the  spirit  of  the  soul. 

Those  numerous  virtues,  which  the  tribe 
Of  tedious  moralists  describe, 

And  by  such  various  titles  call. 

True  honour  comprehends  them  all. 

Let  melancholy  rule  supreme, 

Choler  preside,  or  blood,  or  phlegm. 

It  makes  no  difference  in  the  case, 

Nor  is  complexion  honour’s  place. 

But,  lest  we  should  for  honour  take 
The  drunken  quarrels  of  a rake  ; 

Or  think  it  seated  in  a scar, 

Or  on  a proud  triumphal  car ; 

Or  in  the  payment  of  a debt 
We  lose  with  sharpers  at  picquet ; 

Or  when  a whore,  in  her  vocation, 

Keeps  punctual  to  an  assignation  ; 

Or  that  on  which  his  lordship  swears, 
When  vulgar  knaves  would  lose  their  ears  f 
Let.  Stella’s  fair  example  preach 
A lesson  she  alone  can  teach. 

In  points  of  honour  to  be  tried, 

All  passions  must  be  laid  aside  : 

Ask  no  advice,  but  think  alone  ; 

Suppose  the  question  not  your  own. 

How  shall  I act  is  not  the  case  ; 

But  how  would  Brutus  in  my  place? 

In  such  a case  would  Cato  bleed? 

And  how  would  Socrates  proceed  ? 

Drive  all  objections  from  your  mind. 

Else  you  relapse  to  human  kind  ; 

Ambition,  avarice,  and  lust, 

A factious  rage,  and  breach  of  trust, 

And  flattery  tipt  with  nauseous  fleer, 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


And  guilty  shame,  and  servile  fear. 

Envy,  and  cruelty,  and  pride, 

Will  in  your  tainted  heart  preside. 

Heroes  and  heroines  of  old> 

By  honour  only  were  enroll’d 
Among  their  brethren  in  the  skies, 

To  which  (though  late)  shall  Stella  ris^ 
Ten  thousand  oaths  upon  record 
Are  not  so  sacred  as  her  word  ; 

The  world  shall  in  its  atoms  end, 

Ere  Stella  can  deceive  a friend. 

By  honour  seated  in  her  breast 
She  still  determines  what  is  best ; 

What  indignation  in  her  mind 
Against  enslavers  of  mankind  ! 

Base  kings,  and  ministers  of  state, 

Eternal  objects  of  her  hate  ! 

She  thinks  that  nature  ne’er  design’d 
Courage  to  man  alone  confined. 

Can  cowardice  her  sex  adorn, 

Which  most  exposes  ours  to  scorn  ? 

She  wonders  where  the  charm  appear* 

In  Florimel’s  affected  fears  ; 

For  Stella  never  learn’d  the  art 
At  proper  times  to  scream  and  start ; 

Nor  calls  up  all  the  house  at  night, 

And  swears  she  saw  a thing  in  white. 

Doll  never  flies  to  cut  her  lace, 

Or  throw  cold  water  in  her  face. 

Because  she  heard  a sudden  drum, 

Or  found  an  earwig  in  a plum. 

Her  hearers  are  amazed  from  whence 
Proceeds  that  fund  of  wit  and  sense  ; 
Which  though  her  modesty  would  shroud^ 
Breaks  like  the  sun  behind  a cloud  : 

While  gracefulness  its  art  conceals 
And  yet  through  every  motion  steals. 

Say,  Stella,  was  Prometheus  blind, 

And,  forming  you,  mistook  your  kind  ? 

No  ; ’twas  for  you  alone  he  stole 
The  fire  that  forms  a manly  soul ; 

Then,  to  complete  it  every  way, 

He  moulded  it  with  female  clay  : 

To  that  you  owe  the  nobler  flame, 

To  this  the  beauty  of  your  frame. 

How  would  ingratitude  delight, 

And  how  would  censure  glut  her  spite. 

If  I should  Stella’s  kindness  hide 
In  silence,  or  forget  with  pride  ! 
x When  on  my  sickly  couch  I lay 


TO  STELLA . 


5*3 


Impatient  both  of  night  and  day, 
Lamenting  in  unmanly  strains, 

Call’d  every  power  to  ease  my  pains  ; 
Then  Stella  ran  to  my  relief, 

With  cheerful  face  and  inward  grief ; 

And  though  by  Heaven’s  severe  decree 
She  suffers  hourly  more  than  me, 

No  cruel  master  could  require, 

From  slaves  employ’d  for  daily  hire, 
What  Stella,  by  her  friendship  warm’d, 
With  vigour  and  delight  perform’d  : 

My  sinking  spirits  now  supplies 
With  cordials  in  her  hands  and  eyes  ; 
Now  with  a soft  and  silent  tread 
U nheard  she  moves  about  my  bed. 

I see  her  taste' each  nauseous  draught, 
And  so  obligingly  am  caught ; 

I bless  the  hand  from  whence  they  came, 
Nor  dare  distort  my  face  for  shame. 

Best  pattern  of  true  friends  ! beware  ; 
You  pay  too  dearly  for  your  care, 

If,  while  your  tenderness  secures 
My  life  it  must  endanger  yours  ; 

For  such  a fool  was  never  found, 

Who  pull’d  a palace  to  the  ground, 

Only  to  have  the  ruins  made 
Materials  for  a house  decay’d. 


TO  STELLA. 

ON  HER  BIRTHDAY,  I72I-2. 
HILE,  Stella,  to  your  lasting  praise 


The  Muse  her  annual  tribute  pays^ 
While  I assign  myself  a task 
Which  you  expect,  but  scorn  to  ask  ; 

If  I perform  this  task  with  pain, 

Let  me  of  partial  fate  complain  ; 

You  every  year  the  debt  enlarge, 

I grow  less  equal  to  the  charge  : 

In  you  each  virtue  brighter  shines. 

But  my  poetic  vein  declines  ; 

My  harp  will  soon  in  vain  be  strung. 

And  all  your  virtues  left  unsung. 

For  none  among  the  upstart  race 
Of  poets  dare  assume  my  place  ; 

Your  worth  will  be  to  them  unknown, 

They  must  have  Stellas  of  their  own 
And  thus,  my  stock  of  wit  decay’d, 

I dying  leave  the  debt  unpaid, 

Unless  Delany,  as  my  heir, 

Will  answer  for  the  whole  arrear 


DEAN  S WIFI’S  WORKS. 


524 


STELLA'S  BIRTHDAY. 

A GREAT  BOTTLE  OF  WINE,  LONG  BURIED,  BEING  THAT  DAY 
DUG  UP.  1722-3. 

RESOLVED  my  annual  verse  to  pay. 

By  duty  bound,  on  Stella’s  day, 

Furnish’d  with  paper,  pens,  and  ink, 

I gravely  sat  me  down  to  think  : 

1 bit  my  nails,  and  scratch’d  my  head. 

But  found  my  wit  and  fancy  fled  : 

Or,  if  with  more  than  usual  pain, 

A thought  came  slowly  from  my  brain  5 
It  cost  me  Lord  knows  how  much  time 
To  shape  it  into  sense  and  rhyme  : 

And,  what  was  yet  a greater  curse, 

• Long  thinking  made  my  fancy  worse. 

Forsaken  by  th’  inspiring  Nine, 

I vraited  at  Apollo’s  shrine  : 

I told  him  what  the  world  would  say, 


If  Stella  were  unsung  to-day  : • 

How  I should  hide  my  head  foi  shame. 

When  both  the  Jacks  and  Robin  came 

How  Ford  would  frown,  how  Jim  would  leer,  i 

How  Sheridan  the  rogue  would  sneer,  < 


And  swear  it  does  not  always  follow, 

That  kernel  in  anno  ridet  Apollo, 

I have  assured  them  twenty  times, 

That  Phoebus  help’d  me  in  my  rhymes  5 
Phoebus  inspired  me  from  above, 

And  he  and  I were  hand  and  glove. 

But,  finding  me  so  dull  and  dry  since. 

They’ll  call  it  all  poetic  licence ; 

And  when  J brag  of  aid  divine, 

Think  Eusden’s  right  as  good  as  minet 
Nor  do  I ask  for  Stella’s  sake  ; 

'Tis  my  own  credit  lies  at  stake : 

And  Stella  will  be  sung,  while  I 
Can  only  be  a stander  by. 

Apollo,  having  thought  A little, 

Return’d  this  answer  to  a tittle. 

Though  you  should  live  like  old  Methusalenr 
I furnish  hints,  and  you  shall  use  all  ’em. 

You  yearly  sing  as  she  grows  old, 

You’d  leave  her  virtues  half  untold. 


STELLA' S BIRTHDAY. 


5*5 


But,  to  say  truth,  such  dulness  reigns. 
Through  the  whole  set  of  Irish  deans, 

I’m  daily  stunn’d  with  such  a medley 
Dean  W — , Dean  D— , and  Dean  Smedley, 
That,  let  what  dean  soever  come, 

My  orders  are,  I’m  not  at  home  ; 

And  if  your  voice  had  not  been  loud, 

You  must  have  pass’d  among  the  crowd. 

But  now  your  danger  to  prevent. 

You  must  apply  to  Mrs.  Brent ; 

For  she,  as  priestess,  knows  the  rites 
Wherein  the  god  of  earth  delights. 

First,  nine  ways  looking,  let  her  stand 
With  an  old  poker  in  her  hand  ; 

Let  her  describe  a circle  round 
In  Saunders’  cellar  on  the  ground  ; 

A spade  let  prudent  Archy  hold, 

And  with  discretion  dig  the  mould. 

Let  Stella  look  with  watchful  eye, 

Rebecca,  Ford,  and  Grattans  by. 

Behold  the  bottle,  where  it  lies 
With  neck  elated  toward  the  skies  ! 

The  god  of  winds  and  god  of  fire 
Did  to  its  wondrous  birth  conspire  ; 

And  Bacchus  for  the  poet’s  use 
Pour’d  in  a strong  inspiring  juice. 

See  ! as  you  raise  it  from  its  tomb. 

It  drags  behind  a spacious  womb,  * 
And  in  the  spacious  womb  contains 
A sovereign  medicine  for  the  brains. 

You’ll  find  it  soon,  if  fate  consents ; 

If  not  a thousand  Mrs.  Brents, 

Ten  thousand  Archy s,  arm’d  with  spader 
May  dig  in  vain  to  Pluto’s  shades. 

From  thence  a plenteous  draught  infuse^ 
And  boldly  then  invoke  the  Muse  ; 

But  first  let  Robert  on  his  knees 
With  caution  drain  it  from  the  lees  ; 

The  Muse  will  at  your  call  appear, 

With  Stella’s  praise  to  crown  the  year* 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


52$ 


STELLA  AT  WOOD  PARK. 

A HOUSE  OF  CHARLES  FORD,  ESQ.,  NEAR  DUBLIN  1723 

DON  CARLOS,  in  a merry  spite, 

Did  Stella  to  his  house  invite : 

He  entertain'd  her  half  a year 
With  generous  wines  and  costly  cheer. 

Don  Carlos  made  her  chief  director, 

That  she  might  o'er  the  servants  hector. 

In  half  a week  the  dame  grew  nice, 

Got  all  things  at  the  highest  price  : 

Now  at  the  table-head  she  sits, 

Presented  with  the  nicest  bits  : 

She  looked  on  partridges  with  scorn, 

Except  they  tasted  of  the  corn  : 

A haunch  of  venison  made  her  sweat, 

Unless  it  had  the  right  fiimette . 

Don  Carlos  earnestly  would  beg, 

“ Dear  madam,  try  this  pigeon's  leg  f 
Was  happy,  when  he  could  prevail 
To  make  her  only  touch  a quail. 

Through  candlelight  she  view'd  the  win© 

To«see  that  every  glass  was  fine. 

At  last,  grown  prouder  than  the  devil 
With  feeding  high  and  treatment  civil, 

Don  Carlos  now  began  tc?  find 
His  malice  work  as  he  design'd. 

The  winter  sky  began  to  frown  ; • 

Poor  Stella  must  pack  off  to  town  : 

From  purling  streams  and  fountains  bubbling 
To  Liffey's  stinking  tide  at  Dublin  : 

From  wholesome  exercise  and  air, 

To  sossing  in  an  easy  chair 

From  stomach  sharp,  and  healty  feeding. 

To  piddle  like  a lady  breeding  : 

From  ruling  there  the  household  singly. 

To  be  directed  here  by  Dingley 
From  every  day  a lordly  banquet, 

To  half  a joint,  and  God  be  thanked; 

From  every  meal  Pontac  in  plenty, 

To  half  a pint  one  day  in  twenty  : 

From  Ford  attending  at  her  call 

To  visits  of 

From  Ford,  who  thinks  of  nothing  mean. 

To  the  poor  doings  of  the  Dean  ; 

# The  constant  companion  of  Stella. 


STELLA  A T WOOD  PARK. 


527 


From ‘growing  richer  with  good  cheer, 

To  running  out  by  starving  here. 

But  now  arrives  the  dismal  day  ; 

She  must  return  to  Ormond  Quay. 

The  coachman  stopp’d;  she  look'd,  and  swor© 
The  rascal  had  mistook  the  door  : 

At  coming  in,  you  saw  her  stoop ; 

The  entry  brush’d  against  her  hoop  : 

Each  moment  rising  in  her  airs, 

She  cursed  the  narrow  winding  stairs : 

Began  a thousand  faults  to  spy  ; 

The  ceiling  hardly  six  feet  high  ; 

The  smutty  wainscot  full  of  cracks  ; 

And  half  the  chairs  with  broken  backs  : 

Her  quarter’s  out  at  Lady-day  ; 

She  vows  she  will  no  longer  stay 
In  lodgings  like  a poor  grisette, 

While  there  are  houses  to  be  let. 

Howe’er,  to  keep  her  spirits  up, 

She  sent  for  company  to  sup  : 

When  all  the  while  you  might  remark. 

She  strove  in  vain  to  ape  Wood  Park. 

T wo  bottles  call’d  for  (half  her  store 
The  cupboard  could  contain  but  four) 

A supper  worthy  of  herself, 

Five  nothings  in  five  plates  of  delf. 

Thus  for  a week  the  farce  went  on  5 
When,  all  her  country  savings  gone, 

She  fell  into  her  former  scene, 

Small  beer,  a herring,  and  the  Dean. 

Thus  far  in  jest  : though  now,  I fear, 

You  think  my  jesting  too  severe  ; 

But  poets,  when  a hint  is  new, 

Regard  not  whether  false  or  true  : 

Yet  raillery  gives  no  offence, 

Where  truth  has  not  the  least  pretence  5 
Nor  can  be  more  securely  placed 
Than  on  a nymph  of  Stella’s  taste. 

I must  confess,  your  wine  and  victual 
I was  too  hard  upon  a little  : 

Your  table  neat,  your  linen  fine  ; 

And  though  in  miniature,  you  shine  : 

Yet,  when  you  sigh  to  leave  Wood  Park, 

The  scene,  the  welcome,  and  the  spark. 

To  languish  in  this  odious  town, 

And  pull  your  haughty  stomach  down. 

We  think  you  quite  mistake  the  ca^e, 
The^virtue  lies  not  in  the  place  : 

For  though  m^'  raillery  were  true, 

A cottage  is  Wood  Park  with  you. 

* Where  the  two  ladies  lodged. 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


TO  STELLA* 


WRITTEN  ON  THE  DAY  OP  HER  BIRTH,  MARCH  13,  1723— 4. 
BUT  NOT  ON  THE  SUBJECT  WHEN  I WAS  SICK  IN  BED. 


ORMENTED  with  incessant  pains. 


Can  I devise  poetic  strains  ? 

Time  was,  when  I could  yearly  pay 
My  verse  on  Stella’s  native  day : 

But  now,  unable  grown  to  write, 

I grieve  she  ever  saw  the  light. 
Ungrateful ! since  to  her  I owe 
That  I these  pains  can  undergo. 

She  tends  me  like  an  humble  slave  $ 

!And,  when  indecently  I rave, 

When  out  my  brutish  passions  break, 
With  gall  in  every  word  I speak, 

She,  with  soft  speech,  my  anguish  cheers, 
Or  melts  my  passions  down  with  tears  : 
Although  ’tis  easy  to  descry 
She  wants  assistance  more  than  I ; 

Yet  seems  to  feel  my  pains  alone, 

And  is  a stoic  in  her  own. 

Where,  among  scholars,  can  we  find 
So  soft,  and  yet  so  firm  a mind? 

All  accidents  of  life  conspire 
To  raise  up  Stella’s  virtue  higher; 

Or  else  to  introduce  the  rest 
Which  had  been  latent  in  her  breast. 

Her  firmness  who  could  e’er  have  known, 
Had  she  not  evils  of  her  own  ? 

Her  kindness  who  could  ever  guess, 

Had  not  her  friends  been  in  distress  ? 
Whatever  base  returns  you  find 
From  me,  dear  Stella,  still  be  kind. 

In  your  own  heart  you’ll  reap  the  fruit. 
Though  I continue  still  a brute. 

But,  when  I once  am  out  of  pain, 

I promise  to  be  good  again  : 

Meantime  your  other  juster  friends 
Shall  for  my  follies  make  amenas  : 

So  may  we  long  continue  thus, 

Admiring  you,  you  pitying  us. 


< 529  ) 


A RECEIPT 

TO  RESTORE  STELLA’S  YOUTH,  1 724. 

THE  Scottish  hinds,  too  poor  to  house 
In  frosty  nights  their  starving  cow% 

While  not  a blade  of  grass  or  hay 
Appears  from  Michaelmas  to  May, 

Must  let  their  cattle  range  in  vain 
For  food  along  the  barren  plain  : 

Meagre  and*  lank  with  fasting  grown, 

And  nothing  left  but  skin  and  bone  ; 

Exposed  to  want,  and  wind  and  weather, 

They  just  keep  life  and  soul  together, 

Till  summer  showers  and  evening’s  dew 
Again  the  verdant  glebe  renew  ; 

And,  as  the  vegetables  rise, 

The  famish’d  cow  her  want  supplies : 

Without  an  ounce  of  last  year’s  flesh  ; 

Whate’er  she  gains  is  young  and  fresh  5 
Grows  plump  and  round,  and  full  of  mettle^ 

As  rising  from  Medea’s  kettle, 

With  youth  and  beauty  to  enchant 
Europa’s  counterfeit  gallant. 

Why,  Stella,  should  you  knit  your  brow 
If  I compare  you  to  a cow? 

*Tis  just  the  case  ; for  you  have  fasted 
So  long,  till  all  your  flesh  is  wasted ; 

And  must  against  the  warmer  days 
Be  sent  to  Quiica  down  to  graze ; 

Where  mirth,  and  exercise,  and  air,. 

Will  soon  your  appetite  repair : 

The  nutriment  will  from  within, 

Round  all  your  body,  plump  your  skin  | 

Will  agitate  the  lazy  flood, 

And  fill  your  veins  with  sprightly  blood  t 
Nor  flesh  nor  blood  will  be  the  same, 

Nor  aught  of  Stella  but  the  name  : 

For  what  was  ever  understood, 

By  humankind,  but  flesh  and  blood  I 

And  if  your  flesh  and  blood  be  new,  * 

You’ll  be  no  more  the  former  you  ; 

But  for  a blooming  nymph  will  pass, 

Just  fifteen,  coming  summer’s  grass, 

Your  jetty  locks  with  garlands  crown’d ! 

While  all  the  squires  for  nine  miles  round, 

Attended  by  a brace  of  curs, 

With  jockey  boots  and  silver  spurs. 


g* 


530 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


No  less  than  justices  o’  quorum, 

Their  cow-boys  bearing  cloaks  before  ’em, 
Shall  leave  deciding  broken  pates, 

To  kiss  your  steps  at  Quilca  gates. 

But,  lest  you  should  my  skill  disgrace. 
Come  back  before  you’re  out  of  case  ; 

For  if  to  Michaelmas  you  stay, 

The  new-born  flesh  will  melt  away ; 

The  squire  in  scorn  will  fly  the  house 
For  better  game,  and  look  for  grouse  5 
But  here,  before  the  frost  can  mar  it, 
We’ll  make  it  firm  with  beef  and  claret. 


STELLA’S  BIRTH-DAY.  1724-5. 

AS,  when  a beauteous  nymph  decays, 

We  say,  she’s  past  her  dancing  daysj 
So  poets  lose  their  feet  by  time, 

And  can  no  longer  dance  in  rhyme. 

Your  annual  bard  had  rather  chose 
To  celebrate  your  birth  in  prose : 

Ye  merry  folks,  who  want  by  chance 
A pair  to  make  a country  dance, 

Call  the  old  housekeeper,  and  get  her 
To  fill  a place,  for  want  of  better  ; 

While  Sheridan  is  off  the  hooks, 

And  friend  Delany  at  his  books, 

That  Stella  may  avoid  disgrace, 

Once  more  the  Dean  supplies  their  placet 
Beauty  and  wit,  too  sad  a truth  ! 

Have  always  been  confined  to  youth  } 

The  god  of  wit  and  Beauty’s  queen. 

He  twenty-one  and  she  fifteen, 

No  poet  ever  sweetly  sung, 

Unless  he  were,  like  Phoebus,  young  $ 

Nor  ever  nymph  inspired  to  rhyme. 

Unless,  like  Venus,  in  her  prime* 

At  fifty-six,  if  this  be  true, 

Am  I a poet  fit  for  you  ? 

Or,  at  the  age  of  forty-three, 

Are  you  a subject  fit  for  me  ? 

Adieu  ! bright  wit,  and  radiant  eyes 
You  must  be  grave,  and  I be  wise. 

Our  fate  in  vain  we  would  oppose: 

But  I’ll  be  still  your  friend  in  prose  f 
Esteem  and  friendship  to  express. 

Will  not  require  poetic  dress  ; 

And  if  the  Muse  deny  her  aid 
To  have  them  sung,  they  may  be  said* 


STELLA'S  BIRTH-DAY. 


S31 


But,  Stella,  say  what  evil  tongue 
Reports  you  are  no  longer  young ; 

That  Time  sits,  with  his  scythe  to  mow 
Where  erst  sat  Cupid  with  his  bow  ; 

That  half  your  locks  are  turn’d  to  gray  ? 

I’ll  ne’er  believe  a word  they  say. 

’Tis  true,  but  let  it  not  be  known, 

My  eyes  are  somewhat  dimmish  grown  $ 

For  Nature,  always  in  the  right, 

To  your  decays  adapts  my  sight ; 

And  wrinkles  un distinguish’d  pass, 

For  I’m  ashamed  to  use  a glass  : 

And  till  I see  them  with  these  eyes, 

Whoever  says  you  have  them,  lies. 

No  length  of  time  can  make  you  quit 
Honour  and  virtue,  sense  and  wit ; 

Thus  you  may  still  be  young  to  me, 

While  I can  better  hear  than  see. 

O ne’er  may  F ortune  show  her  spite, 

To  make  me  deaf,  and  mend  my  sight  I 

STELLA’S  BIRTH-DAY, 

MARCH  13,  1726-7.* 

THIS  day,  whate’er  the  Fates  decree^ 

Shall  still  be  kept  with  joy  by  me. 

This  day  then  let  us  not  be  told, 

That  you  are  sick,  and  I grown  old  5 
Nor  think  on  our  approaching  ills, 

And  talk  of  spectacles  and  pills  ; 

To-morrow  will  be  time  enough 
To  hear  such  mortifying  stuff. 

Yet,  since  from  reason  may  be  brought 
A better  and  more  pleasing  thought, 

Which  can  in  spite  of  all  decays. 

Support  a few  remaining  days  ; 

From  not  the  gravest  of  divines 
Accept  for  once  some  serious  lines. 

Although  we  now  can  form  no  more 
Long  schemes  of  life,  as  heretofore  ; 

Yet  you,  while  time  is  running  fast. 

Can  look  with  joy  on  what  is  past.  * 

Were  future  happiness  and  pain 
A mere  contrivance  of  the  brain, 

As  atheists  argue,  to  entice 
And  fit  their  proselytes  for  vice  ; 

(The  only  comfort  they  propose, 

To  have  companions  in  their  woes) 

This  was  Stella’s  last  birthday.  She  died  on  the  28th  January,  1727-$.— Ed, 

34 — 2 


53* 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS . 


Grant  this  the  case  ; yet  sure  ’tis  hard 
That  virtue,  styled  its  own  reward, 

And  by  all  sages  understood 
To  be  the  chief  of  human  good, 

Should  acting  die  ; nor  leave  behind 
Some  lasting  pleasure  in  the  mind, 

Which,  by  remembrance,  will  assuage 
Grief,  sickness,  poverty,  and  age  ; 

And  strongly  shoot  a radiant  dart 
To  shine  through  life’s  declining  part* 

Say,  Stella,  feel  you  no  content, 

Reflecting  on  a life  well-spent  ? 

Your  skilful  hand  employ’d  to  save 
Despairing  wretches  from  the  grave  ; 

And  then  supporting  with  your  store 
Those  whom  you  dragg’d  from  death  before# 
So  Providence  on  mortals  waits, 

Preserving  what  it  first  creates. 

Your  generous  boldness  to  defend 
An  innocent  and  absent  friend  ; 

That  courage  which  can  make  you  just 
To  merit  humbled  in  the  dust; 

The  detestation  you  express 
For  vice  in  all  its  glittering  dress  : 

That  patience  under  torturing  pain, 

Where  stubborn  stoics  would  complain: 
Must  these  like  empty  shadows  pass, 

Or  forms  reflected  from  a glass  ? 

Or  mere  chimeras  in  the  mind, 

That  fly,  and  leave  no  marks  behind? 

Does  not  the  body  thrive  and  grow 
By  food  of  twenty  years  ago  ? 

And,  had  it  not  been  still  supplied, 

It  must  a thousand  times  have  died. 

Then  who  with  reason  can  maintain 
That  no  effects  of  food  remain  1 
And  is  not  virtue  in  mankind 
The  nutriment  that  feeds  the  mind  ; 

Upheld  by  each  good  action  past, 

And  still  continued  by  the  last  ? 

Then,  who  with  reason  can  pretend 
That  all  effects  of  virtue  end  ? 

Belize  me,  Stella,  when  you  show 
That  true  contempt  for  things  below, 

Nor  prize  your  life  for  other  ends 
Than  merely  to  oblige  your  friends  ; 

Your  former  actions  claim  their  part 
And  join  to  fortify  your  heard 
F or  Virtue,  in  her  daily  race, 

Like  Janus,  bears  a double  face  ; 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  POETRY. 


<33 


Looks  back  with  joy  where  she  has  gone^ 
And  therefore  goes  with  courage  on  2 
She  at  your  sickly  couch  will  wait. 

And  guide  you  to  a better  state. 

O then,  whatever  Heaven  intends! 

Take  pity  on  your  pitying  friends ! 

Nor  let  your  ills  affect  your  mind, 

To  fancy  they  can  be  unkind. 

Me,  surely  me,  you  ought  to  spare, 

Who  gladly  would  your  suffering  share  % 

Or  give  my  scrap  of  life  to  you, 

And  think  it  far  beneath  your  due  ; 

You,  to  whose  care  so  oft  I owe  & 

That  Pm  alive  to  tell  you  so. 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  POETRY. 

THE  farmer’s  goose,  who  in  the  stubble 
Has  fed  without  restraint  or  trouble, 
Grown  fat  with  corn  and  sitting  still, 

Can  scarce  get  o’er  the  barn-door  sill  2 
And  hardly  waddles  forth  to  cool 
Her  belly  in  the  neighbouring  pool ! 

Nor  loudly  cackles  at  the  door  ; 

For  cackling  shows  the  goose  is  poor. 

But,  when  she  must  be  turn’d  to  graze. 
And  round  the  barren  common  strays, 

Hard  exercise  and  harder  fare 

Soon  make  my  dame  grow  lank  and  spare  5 

Her  body  light,  she  tries  her  wings, 

And  scorns  the  ground,  and  upward  springs  ; 
While  all  the  parish,  as  she  flies, 

Hear  sounds  harmonious  from  the  skies. 

Such  is  the  poet  fresh  in  pay, 

The  third  night’s  profit  of  his  play  ; 

His  morning  draughts  till  noon  can  swill, 
Among  his  brethren  of  the  quill : 

With  good  roast  beef  his  belly  full, 

Grown  lazy,  foggy,  fat,  and  dull, 

Deep  sunk  in  plenty  and  delight, 

What  poet  e’er  could  take  his  flight  ? 

Or  stuff’d  with  phlegm  up  to  the  throat, 

What  poet  e’er  could  sing  a note  ? 

Nor  Pegasus  could  bear  the  load 
Along  the  high  celestial  road  ; 

The  steed,  oppress’d,  w ould  break  his  girth, 
To  raise  the  lumber  from  the  earth. 

But  view  him  in  another  scene, 

When  all  his  drink  is  Hippocrene. 


534 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


His  money  spent,  his  patrons  fail, 

His  credit  out  for  cheese  and  ale  ; 

His  two-years  coat  so  smooth  and  barfly 
Through  every  thread  it  lets  in  air ; 
With  hungry  meals  his  body  pined. 

His  guts  and  belly  full  of  wind ; 

And  like  a jockey  for  a race, 

His  flesh  brought  down  to  flying  case  : 
Now  his  exalted  spirit  loathes 
Encumbrances  of  food  and  clothes ; 
And  up  he  rises  like  a vapour, 

*ipported  high  on  wings  of  paper  ; 

e singing  flies,  and  flying  sings, 

While  from  below  all  Grub-street  rings. 


THE  SOUTH-SEA  PROJECT.  1721. 

••Apparent  rari  nantesin  gurgite  vasto, 

Anna  virum,  tabulaeque,  et  Troia  gaza  per  undas.**  VlROw 

YE  wise  philosophers,  explain 

What  magic  makes  our  money  rise* 

When  dropt  into  the  Southern  main  : 

Or  do  these  jugglers  cheat  our  eyes? 

Put  in  your  money  fairly  told  ; 

Presto!  be  gone— ;Tis  here  again: 

Ladies  and  gentlemen,  behold, 

Here’s  every  piece  as  big  as  ten. 

Thus  in  a basin  drop  a shilling, 

Then  fill  the  vessel  to  the  brim  ; 

You  shall  observe,  as  you  are  filling, 

The  ponderous  metal  seems  to  swim  t 
It  rises  both  in  bulk  and  height, 

Behold  it  swelling  like  a sop  ; 

The  liquid  medium  cheats  your  sight : 

Behold  it  mounted  to  the  top  ! 

In  stock  three  hundred  thousand  pounds, 

I have  in  view  a lord’s  estate  ; 

My  manners  all  contiguous  round  ! 

A coach  and  six,  and  served  in  plate  ! 

Thus  the  deluded  bankrupt  raves  ; 

Puts  all  upon  a desperate  bet ; 

Then  plunges  in  the  Southern  waves, 

Dipt  over  head  and  ears — in  debt. 

So,  by  a calenture  misled, 

The  mariner  with  rapture  sees, 

On  the  smooth  ocean’s  azure  bed, 

Enamell’d  fields  and  verdant  trees. 


THE  SOUTH-SEA  PROJECT. 


535 


\/  i ^ ^ 

With  eager  haste  he  longs  to  rove 
In  that  fantastic  scene,  and  thinks 
**  must  be  some  enchanted  grove  : 

And  in  he  leaps,  and  down  he  sinks. 

Five  hundred  chariots  just  bespoke. 

Are  sunk  in  these  devouring  waves, 

The  horses  drown’d,  the  harness  broke, 
And  here  the  owners  find  their  graves. 

Like  Pharaoh,  by  directors  led, 

They  with  their  spoils  went  safe  before  ; 
His  chariots,  tumbling  out  the  dead, 

Lay  shatter’d  on  the  Red  Sea  shore. 

Raised  up  on  Hope’s  aspiring  plumes, 

The  young  adventurer  o’er  the  deep 
An  eagle’s  flight  and  state  assumes. 

And  scorns  the  middle  way  to  keep. 

On  paper  wings  he  takes  his  flight, 

With  wax  the  father  bound  them  fast  \ 
The  wax  is  melted  by  the  height, 

And  down  the  towering  boy  is  cast. 

A moralist  might  here  explain 

The  rashness  of  the  Cretan  youth  f 
Describe  his  fall  into  the  main, 

Artd  from  a fable  form  a truth. 

His  wings  are  his  paternal  rent, 

He  melts  the  wax  at  every  flame ; 

His  credit  sunk,  his  money  spent, 

In  Southern  Seas  he  leaves  his  name. 

Inform  us,  you  that  best  can  tell, 

Why  in  that  dangerous  gulf  profound, 
Where  hundreds  and  where  thousands  fell. 
Fools  chiefly  float,  the  wise  are  drown’d? 

So  have  I seen  from  Severn’s  brink 
A flock  of  geese  jump  down  together : 
Swim,  where  the  bird  of  Jove  would  sink, 
And  swimming,  never  wet  a feather. 

But,  I affirm,  ’tis  false  in  fact, 

Directors  better  knew  their  tools ; 

We  see  the  nation’s  credit  crack’d, 

Each  knave  has  made  a thousand  fools. 

One  fool  may  from  another  win, 

And  then  get  off*  with  money  stored ; 
But,  if  a sharper  once  comes  in, 

He  throws  at  all,  and  sweeps  the  board. 


536 


DEAN  SWIFT’S  WOEJTS. 


As  fishes  on  each  other  prey, 

The  great  ones  swallowing  up  the  small  $ 
So  fares  it  in  the  Southern  Sea  ; 

The  whale  directors  eat  up  all. 

When  stock  is  high,  they  come  between, 
Making  by  second-hand  their  offers  ; 
Then  cunningly  retire  unseen, 

With  each  a million  in  his  coffers. 

So,  when  upon  a moonshine  night 
An  ass  was  drinking  at  a stream ; 

A cloud  arose,  and  stopt  the  light. 

By  intercepting  every  beam  : 

The  day  of  judgment  will  be  soon, 

Cries  out  a sage  among  the  crowd  ; 

An  ass  has  swallow'd  up  the  moon  ! 

The  moon  lay  safe  behind  the  cloud. 

Each  poor  subscriber  to  the  sea 

Sinks  down  at  once,  and  there  he  lies  | 
Directors  fall  as  well  as  they, 

Their  fall  is  but  a trick  to  rise. 

So  fishes,  rising  from  the  main, 

Can  soar  with  moisten'd  wings  on  high  | 
The  moisture  dried,  they  sink  again, 

And  dip  their  fins  again  to  fly.  + 

Undone  at  play,  the  female  troops 
Come  here  their  losses  to  retrieve  ; 

Ride  o’er  the  waves  in  spacious  hoops* 

Like  Lapland  witches  in  a sieve. 

Thus  Venus  to  the  sea  descends, 

As  poets  feign  ; but  where's  the  moral  t 
It  shows  the  Queen  of  Love  intends 
To  search  the  deep  for  pearl  and  coraL 

The  sea  is  richer  than  the  land, 

I heard  it  from  my  grannam's  mouth. 
Which  now  I clearly  understand  ; 

For  by  the  sea  she  meant  the  South. 

Thus  by  directors  we  are  told, 

“ Pray,  gentlemen,  believe  your  eyes  j 
Our  ocean's  cover'd  o’er  with  gold, 

Look  round,  and  see  how  thick  it  lies: 

* We,  gentlemen,  are  your  assisters,. 

We’ll  come,  and  hold  you  by  the  chin.—* 
Alas  ! all  is  not  gold  that  glisters, 

Ten  thousand  sink  by  leaping  in. 


THE  SQUTH-SEA  PROJECT. 


537 


O ! would  those  patriots  be  so  kind 
Here  in  the  deep  to  wash  their  hands. 
Then,  like  Pactolus,  we  should  fina 
The  sea  indeed  had  golden  sands. 

A shilling  in  the  bath  you  fling, 

The  silver  takes  a nobler  hue. 

By  magic  virtue  in  the  spring, 

And  seems  a guinea  to  your  view. 

But  as  a guinea  will  not  pass  * 

At  market  for  a farthing  more. 

Shown  through  a multiplying  glass, 

Than  what  it  always  did  before : 

So  cast  it  in  the  Southern  seas, 

Or  view  it  through  a jobber’s  bill  ; 

Put  on  what  spectacles  you  please. 

Your  guinea’s  but  a guinea  still. 

One  night  a fool  into  a brook 

Thus  from  a hillock  looking  down. 

The  golden  stars  for  guineas  took, 

And  silver  Cynthia  for  a crown. 

The  point  he  could  no  longer  doubt ; 

He  ran,  he  leapt  into  the  flood  : 

There  sprawl’d  awhile,  and  scarce  got  out. 
All  cover’d  o’er  with  slime  and  mud. 

•‘Upon  the  water  cast  thy  bread, 

And  after  many  days  thou’lt  find  it 
But  gold,  upon  this  ocean  spread, 

Shall  sink,  and  leave  no  mark  behind  it: 

There  is  a gulf,  where  thousands  fell, 

Here  all  the  bold  adventurers  came, 

A narrow  sound,  though  deep  as  hell— 
’Change  Alley  is  the  dreadful  name. 

Nine  times  a day  it  ebbs  and  flows, 

Yet  he  that  on  the  surface  lies, 

Without  a pilot  seldom  knows 
The  time  it  falls,  or  when  ’twill  rise. 

Subscribers  here  by  thousands  float, 

And  jostle  one  another  down  ; 

Each  paddling  in  his  leaky  boat, 

And  here  they  fish  for  gold,  and  drown. 

**  Now  buried  in  the  depth  below, 

Now  mounted  up  to  Heaven  again, 
They  reel  and  stagger  to  and  fro, 

At  their  wits’  end,  like  drunken  men.** *** 

* Psalm  cvii. 


53* 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


Meantime  secure  on  Garraway*  cliffs, 

A savage  race,  by  shipwrecks  fed, 

Lie  waiting  for  the  founder’d  skiffs, 

And  strip  the  bodies  of  the  dead. 

But  these,  you  say,  are  factious  lies, 

From  some  malicious  tory’s  brain  ; 

For,  where  directors  get  a prize, 

The  Swiss  and  Dutch  whole  millions  drain* 

Thfts,  when  by  rooks  a lord  is  plied, 

Some  cully  often  wins  a bet, 

By  venturing  on  the  cheating  side. 

Though  not  into  the  secret  let. 

While  some  build  castles  in  the  air, 

Directors  build  them  in  the  seas  ; 

Subscribers  plainly  see  them  there, 

For  fools  will  see  as  wise  men  pleases. 

Thus  oft  by  mariners  are  shown 
(Unless  the  men  of  Kent  are  liars) 

Earl  Godwin’s  castles  overflown, 

And  palace  roofs,  and  steeple  spires. 

Mark  where  the  sly  directors  creep, 

Nor  to  the  shore  approach  too  nigh ! 

The  monsters  nestle  in  t!  e deep, 

To  seize  you  in  your  passing  by. 

Then,  like  the  dogs  of  Nile,  be  wise, 

Who,  taught  by  instinct  how  to  shun 

The  crocodile,  that  lurking  lies, 

Run  as  they  drink,  and  drink  and  run. 

Antaeus  could,  by  magic  charms, 

Recover  strength  whene’er  he  fell ; 

Alcides  held  him  in  his  arms, 

And  sent  him  up  in  air  to  HelL 

Directors,;  thrown  into  the  sea, 

Recover  strength  and  vigour  there  : 

But  may  be  tamed  another  way, 

Suspended  for  a while  in  air. 

Directors  ! for  ’tis  you  I warn, 

By  long  experience  we  have  found 

What  planet  ruled  when  you  were  bom  ; 

We  see  you  never  can  be  drown’d. 

Beware,  nor  overbulky  grow, 

Nor  come  within  your  cully’s  reach  ; 

For,  if  the  sea  should  sink  so  low 
To  leave  you  dry  upon  the  beach, 

* A coffee-house  in  Change  Alley. 


539 


A SATIRICAL  ELEGY. 

Y oull  owe  your  ruin  to  your  bullc : 

Your  foes  already  waiting  stand. 

To  tear  you  like  a founder’d  hulk}* 

While  you  lie  helpless  on  the  sand* 

Thus,  when  a whale  has  lost  the  tide,. 
The  coasters  crowd  to  seize  the  spoil » 

The  monster  into  parts  divide, 

And  strip  the  bones,  and  melt  the  oiL 

Oh  may  some  western  tempest  sweep 
These  locusts  whom  our  fruits  have  fed. 

That  plague,  directors,  to  the  deep, 

Driven  from  the  South  Sea  to  the  Red. 

May  he,  whom  Nature’s  laws  obey, 

Who  lifts  the  poor  and  sinks  the  proud, 

44  Quiet  the  raging  of  the  sea. 

And  still  the  madness  of  the  crowd  P 

But  never  shall  our  isle  have  rest, 

Till  those  devouring  swine  run  down, 

(The  devils  leaving  the  possess’d) 

And  headlong  in  the  waters  drown. 

The  nation  then  too  late  will  find, 
Computing  all  their  cost  and  trouble^ 

Directors’  promises  but  wind, 

South  Sea  at  best  a mighty  bubble* 


A SATIRICAL  ELEGY. 

ON  THE  DEATH  OF  A LATE  FAMOUS  GENERA!* 

1722. 

HIS  Grace  ! impossible  ! what  deadl 
Of  old  age  too,  and  in  his  bed  1 
And  could  that  mighty  warrior  fall, 

And  so  inglorious,  after  all  ? 

Well,  since  he’s  gone,  no  matter  how, 

The  last  loud  trump  must  wake  him  now  f 
And,  trust  me,  as  the  noise  grows  stronger. 
He’d  wish  to  sleep  a little  longer. 

And  could  he  be  indeed  so  old 
As  by  the  newspapers  we’re  told  ? 

Threescore,  I think,  is  pretty  high  ; 

*Twas  time  in  conscience  he  should  die  I 
This  world  he  cumber’d  long  enough  ; 

He  burnt  his  candle  to  the  snuff : 

And  that’s  the  reason,  some  folks  think, 

He  left  behind  so  great  a stink. 


54® 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


Behold  his  funeral  appears. 

Nor  widows’  sighs,  nor  orphans*  tears, 
Wont  at  such  times  each  heart  to  pierce^ 
Attend  the  progress  of  his  hearse. 

But  what  of  that  ? his  friends  may  say. 

He  had  those  honours  in  his  day. 

True  to  his  profit  and  his  pride, 

He  made  them  weep  before  he  died. 

Come  hither,  all  ye  empty  things  ! 

Ye  bubbles  raised  by  Breath  of  kings  ! 
Who  float  upon  the  tide  of  state  ; 

Come  hither,  and  behold  your  fate  ! 

Let  Pride  be  taught  by  this  rebuke, 

How  very  mean  a thing’s  a duke  ; 

From  all  his  ill-got  honours  flung, 

Turn’d  to  that  dirt  from  whence  he  sprung*. 


A QUIET  LIFE  AND  A GOOD  NAME. 

TO  A FRIEND  WHO  MARRIED  A SHREW. 

1724. 

NELL  scolded  in  so  loud  a din 

That  Will  durst  hardly  venture  in  : 

He  mark’d  the  conjugal  dispute  : 

Nell  roar’d  incessant,  Dick  sat  mute  ; 

But,  when  he  saw  his  friend  appear, 

Cried  bravely,  “ Patience,  good  my  dear  !* 

At  sight  of  Will,  she  bawl’d  no  more, 

But  hurried  out,  and  clapt  the  door. 

“ Why  Dick ! the  Devil’s  in  thy  Nell," 
(Quoth  Will,)  “ thy  house  is  worse  than  PI ell ; 
Why  what  a peal  the  jade  has  rung  ! 

D— n her,  why  don’t  you  slit  her  tongue  ? 

F or  nothing  else  will  make  it  cease." 

“ Dear  Will  I suffer  this  for  peace  ; 

I never  quarrel  with  my  wife  ; 

I bear  it  for  a quiet  life. 

Scripture  you  know,  exhorts  us  to  it } 

Bids  us  to  seek  peace,  and  ensue  it.” 

Will  went  again  to  visit  Dick ; 

And  entering  in  the  very  nick, 

He  saw  virago  Nell  belabour, 

With  Dick’s  own  staff,  his  peaceful  neighbouri 
Poor  Will,  who  needs  must  interpose, 

Received  a brace  or  two  of  blows. 


THE  BIRTH  OF  MANLY  VIRTUE. 


54* 


But  now  to  make  my  story  short, 

Will  drew  out  Dick  to  take  a quart. 
u Why,  Dick,  thy  wife  has  devilish  whims  ; 
Ods-buds  ! why  don’t  you  break  her  limbs  ? 
If  she  were  mine,  and  had  such  tricks, 

I’d  teach  her  how  to  handle  sticks  ; 

T- — ds  ! I would  ship  her  to  Jamaica, 

Or  truck  the  carrion  for  tobacco  ; 

IJd  send  her  far  enough  away — ” 

“ Dear  Will,  but  what  would  people  say  ? 
Lord  ! I should  get  so  ill  a name, 

The  neighbours  round  would  cry  out  shame.* 
Dick  suffer’d  for  his  peace  and  credit  ; 

But  who  believed  him  when  he  said  it  ? 

Can  he,  who  makes  himself  a slave, 

Consult  his  peace,  or  credit  save  ? 

Dick  found  it  by  his  ill  success, 

His  quiet  small,  his  credit  less. 

She  served  him  at  the  usual  rate  ; 

She  stunn’d,  and  then  she  broke  his  pate  ; 
And  what  he  thought  the  hardest  case. 

The  parish  jeer’d  him  to  his  face  ; 

Those  men  who  wore  the  breeches  least* 
Call’d  him  a cuckold,  fool,  and  beast. 

At  home  he  was  pursued  with  noise  ; 

Abroad  was  pester’d  by  the  boys  ; 

Within,  his  wife  would  break  his  bones  ; 
Without  they  pelted  him  with  stones ; 

The  ’prentices  procured  a riding.* 

To  act  his  patience  and  her  chiding. 

False  patience  and  mistaken  pride  ! 

There  are  ten  thousand  Dicks  beside  5 
Slaves  to  their  quiet  and  good  name, 

Are  used  like  Dick,  and  bear  the  blame. 


THE  BIRTH  OF  MANLY  VIRTUE, 

INSCRIBED  TO  LORD  CARTERET. 


Grieved  at  the  vices  of  the  age, 
Applied  to  Jove  with  fervent  prayer 
— “ O Jove,  if  Virtue  be  so  fair, 


• A humorous  cavalcade  in  ridicule  of  a scolding  wife  And  henpecked 
husband. — Ed. 


1724- 


NCE  on  a time,  a righteous  sage, 


54* 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS* 


As  it  was  deem’d  in  former  days, 

By  Plato  and  by  Socrates, 

Whose  beauties  mortal  eyes  escape^ 

Only  for  want  of  outward  shape  : 

Make  them  its  real  excellence, 

For  once,  the  theme  of  human  sense  j 
So  shall  the  eye,  by  form  confined, 

Direct  and  fix  the  wandering  mind  5 
And  long-deluded  mortals  see, 

With  rapture,  what  they  used  to  flee! 

Jove  grants  the  prayer,  gives  Virtue  birt^ 
And  bids  him  bless  and  mend  the  earth. 
Behold  him  blooming  fresh  and  fair. 

Now  made — ye  gods— a son  and  heir  t 
An  heir  : and,  stranger  yet  to  hear, 

An  heir,  an  orphan  of  a peer ; 

But  prodigies  are  wrought,  to  provo 
Nothing  impossible  to  Jove. 

Virtue  was  for  this  sex  design’d, 

In  mild  reproof  to  womankind; 

In  manly  form  to  let  them  see 
The  loveliness  of  mod.esty, 

The  thousand  decencies  that  shone 
With  lessen’d  lustre  in  their  own  ; 

Which  few  had  learn’d  enough  to  prizes 
And  some  thought  modish  to  despise. 

To  make  his  merit  more  discern’d, 

He  goes  to  school — he  reads — is  learn’d  ; 
Raised  high,  above  his  birth,  by  knowledge 
He  shines  distinguish’d  in  a college ; 
Resolved  nor  honour,  nor  estate, 

Himself  alone  should  make  him  great. 

Here  soon  for  every  art  renown’d, 

His  influence  is  diffused  around  ; 

Th’  inferior  youth  to  learning  led, 

Less  to  be  famed  than  to  be  fed, 

Behold  the  glory  he  has  won, 

And  blush  to  see  themselves  outdone ) 

And  now,  inflamed  with  rival  rage, 

In  scientific  strife  engage, 

Engage  ; and,  in  the  glorious  strife^ 

The  arts  new  kindle  into  life. 

Here  would  our  hero  ever  dwell. 

Fix’d  in  a lonely  learned  cell ; 

Contented  to  be  truly  great. 

In  Virtue’s  best  beloved  retreat ; 

Contented  he— but  Fate  ordains 
He  now  shall  shine  in  nobler  scenes^ 

Raised  high,  like  some  celestial  fire, 

To  shine  the  more,  still  rising  higher! 


THE  BIRTH  OF  MANLY  VIRTUE. 


543 


Completely  form’d  in  every  part, 

To  win  the  soul,  and  glad  the  heart. 

The  powerful  voice,  the  graceful  mien. 
Lovely  alike,  or  heard,  or  seen  ; 

The  outward  form  and  inward  vie. 

His  soul  bright  beaming  from  his  eye. 
Ennobling  every  act  and  air, 

With  just,  and  generous,  and  sincere. 

Accomplish’d  thus,  his  next  resort 
Is  to  the  council  and  the  court, 

Where  virtue  is  in  least  repute, 

And  interest  the  one  pursuit ; 

Where  right  and  wrong  are  bought  and  sold^ 
Barter’d  tor  beauty,  and  for  gold; 

Here  Manly  Virtue,  even  here, 

Pleased  in  the  person  of  a peer, 

A peer  ; a scarcely  bearded  youth. 

Who  talk’d  of  justice  and  of  truth, 

Of  innocence  the  surest  guard. 

Tales  here  forgot,  or  yet  unheard , 

That  he  alone  deserved  esteem, 

Who  was  the  man  he  wish’d  to  seem ; 

Call’d  it  unmanly  and  unwise, 

To  lurk  behind  a mean  disguise  ; 

(Give  fraudful  Vice  the  mask  and  screen* 
sTis  Virtue’s  interest  to  be  seen  ;) 

Call’d  want  of  shame  a want  of  sense. 

And  found,  in  blushes,  eloquence. 

Thus  acting  what  he  taught  so  well. 

He  drew  dumb  Merit  from  her  cell, 

Led  with  amazing  art  along 

The  bashful  dame,  and  loosed  her  tongue ; 

And,  while  he  made  her  value  known, 

Yet  more  display’d  and  raised  his  own. 

Thus  young,  thus  proof  to  all  temptations* 
He  rises  to  the  highest  stations  ; 

For  where  high  honour  is  the  prize* 

True  Virtue  has  a right  to  rise  : 

Let  courtly  slaves  low  bend  the  knee 
To  Wealth  and  Vice  in  high  degree : 

Exalted  Worth  disdains  to  owe 
Its  grandeur  to  its  greatest  foe. 

Now  raised  on  high,  see  Virtue  shows 
The  godlike  ends  for  which  he  rose  ; 

For  him,  let  proud  Ambition  know 
The  height  of  glory  here  below, 

Grandeur,  by  goodness  made  complete  I 
To  bless,  is  truly  to  be  great ! 

He  taught  how  men  to  honour  rise* 

Like  gilded  vapours  to  the  skies* 


544 


DEAN  SWIFT  S WORE% 


Which,  howsoever  they  display 
Their  glory  from  the  god  of  day* 

Their  noblest  use  is  to  abate 
His  dangerous  excess  of  heat, 

To  shield  the  infant  fruits  and  flowers. 

And  bless  the  earth  with  genial  showers. 

Now  change  the  scene  ; a nobler  care 
Demands  him  in  a higher  sphere  : 

Distress  of  nations  calls  him  hence,* 

Permitted  so  by  Providence  ; 

For  models  made  to  mend  our  kind. 

To  no  one  clime  should  be  confined  ; 

And  Manly  Virtue,  like  the  sun, 

His  course  of  glorious  toils  should  run  J 
Alike  diffusing  in  his  flight 
Congenial  joy,  and  life,  and  light. 

Pale  Envy  sickens.  Error  flies, 

And  Discord  in  his  presence  dies ; 

Oppression  hides  with  guilty  dread, 

And  Merit  rears  her  drooping  head ; 

The  arts  revive,  the  valleys  sing. 

And  winter  softens  into  spring  : 

The  wondering  world,  where’er  he  move®  J 
With  new  delight  looks  up  and  loves  ; 

One  sex  consenting  to  admire, 

Nor  less  the  other  to  desire  ; 

While  he,  though  seated  on  a throne, 

Confines  his  love  to  one  alone  ; 

The  rest  condemn’d  with  rival  voice, 

Repining,  do  applaud  his  choice. 

Fame  now  reports,  the  Western  Isle, 

Is  made  his  mansion  for  a while. 

Whose  anxious  natives,  night  and  day, 

(Happy  beneath  his  righteous  sway) 

Weary  the  gods  with  ceaseless  prayer, 

To  bless  him,  and  to  keep  him  there  ; 

And  claim  it  as  a debt  from  F ate, 

Too  lately  found,  to  lose  him  late. 

• Lord  Carteret  had  the  honour  o i mediating  peace  for  Sweden  with  Dea« 
mark  and  with  the  Czar, — Ed. 


ON  WHITS  HENS  MOTTO. 


*45 


YERSES  OCCASIONED  BY  WHITSHED’S*  MOTTO  ON 
HIS  COACH,  1724. 

IBERTAS  et  natal e solum  : 

Fine  words  ! I wonder  where  you  stole  ’em. 

Could  nothing  but  thy  chief  reproach 
Serve  for  a motto  on  thy  coach  ? 

But  let  me  now  the  words  translate  s 
Natale  solum , my  estate  ; 

My  dear  estate,  how  well  I love  it ! 

My  tenants,  if  you  doubt,  will  prove  it* 

They  swear  I am  so  kind  and  good, 

I hug  them  till  I squeeze  their  blood. 

Libertas  bears  a large  import : 

First,  how  to  swagger  in  a court ; 

And,  secondly,  to  show  my  fury 
Against  an  uncomplying  jury  ; 

And,  thirdly,  ’tis  a new  invention, 

To  favour  Wood,  and  keep  my  pension  5 
And,  fourthly,  ’tis  to  play  an  odd  trick, 

Get  the  great  seal,  and  turn  out  Broderick  J 
And,  fifthly  (you  know  whom  I mean), 

To  humble  that  vexatious  Dean  ; 

And,  sixthly,  for  my  soul,  to  barter  it 
For  fifty  times  its  worth  to  Carteret. t 
Now,  since  your  motto  thus  you  construe^ 

I must  confess  you’ve  spoken  once  true. 

Libertas  et  natale  solum  : 

You  had  good  reason,  when  you  stole  ’em. 


THE  DOG  AND  THIEF,  172& 

QUOTH  the  thief  to  the  dog,  Let  me  into  your  door* 
And  I’ll  give  you  these  delicate  bits. 

Quoth  the  dog,  I shall  then  be  more  villain  chan  you’re* 
And  besides  must  be  out  of  my  wits. 

Your  delicate  bits  will  not  serve  me  a meal, 

But  my  master  each  day  gives  me  bread  ; 

You’ll  fly  when  you  get  what  you  came  here  to  steal* 

And  I must  be  bang’d  in  your  stead. 

• The  Chief  Justice  who  prosecuted  the  Drapier. 

. f Lord  Lieutenant  of  Ireland. 

35 


546  DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 

The  stock-jobber  thus  from  ’Change  Alley  goes  down. 
And  tips  you  the  freeman  a wink  ; 

" Let  me  have  but  your  vote  to  serve  for  the  town, 

And  here  is  a guinea  to  drink.” 

Says  the  freeman,  “ Your  guinea  to  night  would  be  spent! 

Your  offers  of  bribery  cease : 

I’ll  vote  for  my  landlord,  to  whom  I pay  rent, 

Or  else  I may  forfeit  my  lease.” 

From  London  they  come,  silly  people  to  chouse, 

Their  lands  and  their  faces  unknown  : 

Who’d  vote  a rogue  into  the  parliament  house, 

That  would  turn  a man  out  of  his  own  ? 


ADVICE 

TO  THE  GRUB-STREET  VERSE-WRITERS 
1726. 

YE  poets  ragged  and  forlorn, 

Down  from  your  garrets  haste; 

Ye  rhymers  dead  as  soon  as  born, 

Not  yet  consign’d  to  paste, 

I know  a trick  to  make  you  thrive ; 

O,  ’tis  a quaint  device  : 

Your  still-born  poems  shall  revive  ; 

And  scorn  to  wrap  up  spice. 

Get  all  your  verses  printed  fair, 

Then  let  them  well  be  dried  ; 

And  Curll  must  have  a special  care 
To  leave  the  margin  wide. 

Lend  these  to  paper-sparing  Pope  ;• 

And  when  he  sits  to  write, 

No  letter  with  an  envelope 
Could  give  him  more  delight 

When  Pope  has  fill’d  the  margins  round, 

Why  then  recal  your  loan  ; 

Sell  them  to  Curll  for  fifty  pound, 

And  swear  they  are  your  own. 

• The  original  copy  of  Pope’s  translation  of  Homer  (preserved  in  the  British 
Museum)  is  almost  entirely  written  on  the  covers  of  letters,  and  sometimes 
between  the  lines  of  the  letters  themselves. 


DR.  YO  UN G *S  SA  TIRES. 


547 


ON  READING  DR.  YOUNG'S  SATIRES* 

CALLED  THE  UNIVERSAL  PASSION. 

1726. 

IF  there  be  truth  in  what  you  sing, 

Such  godlike  virtues  in  the  king  5 
A minister*  who's  fill'd  with  zeal 
And  wisdom  for  the  commonweal ; 

If  hef  who  in  the  chair  presides 
So  steadily  the  senate  guides  : 

If  others  whom  you  make  your  theme 
Are  seconds  in  the  glorious  scheme  : 

If  every  peer,  whom  you  commend, 

To  worth  and  learning  be  a friend  : 

If  this  be  truth,  as  you  attest, 

What  land  was  ever  half  so  blest ! 

No  falsehood  now  among  the  great, 

And  tradesmen  now  no  longer  cheat ; 

Now  on  the  bench  fair  Justice  shines, 

Her  scale  to  neither  side  inclines  ; 
m Now  Pride  and  Cruelty  are  flown, 

And  Mercy  here  exalts  her  throne  : 

For  such  is  good  example's  power, 

It  does  its  office  every  hour, 

Where  governors  are  good  and  wise  3 
Or  else  the  truest  maxim  lies  : 

For  so  we  find  all  ancient  sages 
Decree,  that,  ad  exemplum  regis , 

Through  all  the  realm  his  virtues  run. 

Ripening  and  kindling  like  the  sun. 

If  this  be  true,  then  how  much  more 
When  you  have  named  at  least  a scorn 
Of  courtiers,  each  in  their  degree, 

If  possible,  as  good  as  he  ! 

Or  take  it  in  a different  view. 

I ask  (if  what  you  say  be  true) 

If  you  affirm  the  present  age 
Deserves  your  satire's  keenest  rage : 

If  that  same  universal  passion 
With  every  vice  has  fill'd  the  nation  ; 

If  Virtue  dares  not  venture  down 
A single  step  beneath  the  crown  : 

• Sir  Robert  Walpole,  afterwards  Earl  of  Orford. 
f Sir  Spencer  Compton,  then  Speaker,  afterwards  Earl  of  Wilmingtoi# 

35-2 


548 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS, 


If  clergymen,  to  show  their  wit, 

Praise  classics  more  than  Holy  Writs 
If  bankrupts,  when  they  are  undone* 
Into  the  senate-house  can  run, 

And  sell  their  votes  at  such  a rate* 

As  will  retrieve  a lost  estate  : 

If  law  be  such  a partial  whore, 

To  spare  the  rich,  and  plague  the  poors 
If  these  be  of  all  crimes  the  worst, 

What  land  was  ever  half  so  cursed  ? 


THE  FURNITURE  OF  A WOMAN’S  MIND.  1727. 

ASET  of  phrases  learn’d  by  rote  5 
A passion  for  a scarlet  coat  5 
When  at  a play  to  laugh  or  cry, 

Yet  cannot  tell  the  reason  why  ; 

Never  to  hold  her  tongue  a minute. 

While  all  she  prates  has  nothing  in  it  5 
Whole  hours  can  with  a coxcomb  sit, 

And  take  his  nonsense  all  for  wit ; 

Her  learning  mounts  to  read  a song, 

But  half  the  words  pronouncing  wrong  J 

Has  every  repartee  in  store  ** 

She  spoke  ten  thousand  times  before  ; 

Can  ready  compliments  supply 
On  all  occasions  cut  and  dry  ; 

Such  hatred  to  a parson’s  gown, 

The  sight  will  put  her  in  a swoon*; 

For  conversation  well  endued, 

She  calls  it  witty  to  be  rude  ; 

And,  placing  raillery  in  railing, 

Will  tell  aloud  your  greatest  failing  ; 

Nor  make  a scruple  to  expose 
Your  bandy  leg  or  crooked  nose  ; 

Can  at  her  morning  tea  run  o’er 
The  scandal  of  the  day  before ; 

Improving  hourly  in  her  skill 
To  cheat  and  wrangle  at  quadrille. 

In  choosing  lace  a critic  nice, 

Knows  to  a groat  the  lowest  price  5 
Can  in  her  female  clubs  dispute 
What  linen  best  the  silk  will  suit, 

What  colours  each  complexion  match, 

And  where  with  art  to  place  a patch. 

If  chance  a mouse  creeps  in  her  sight* 

Can  finely  counterfeit  a fright; 

So  sweetly  screams,  if  it  comes  near  her* 

She  ravishes  all  hearts  to  hear  her. 


549 


JOURNAL  OF  A MODERN  LADY. 

Can  dextrously  her  husband  tease 
By  taking  fits  whene’er  she  please  ; 

By  frequent  practice  learns  the  trick' 

At  proper  seasons  to  be  sick  ; • 

Thinks  nothing  gives  one  airs  so  pretty, 

At  once  creating  love  and  pity  : 

If  Molly  happens  to  be  careless, 

And  but  neglects  to  warm  her  hair-lace, 
She  gets  a cold  as  sure  as  death, 

And  vows  she  scarce  can  fetch  her  breath  ; 
Admires  how  modest  women  can 
Be  so  robustious,  like  a man. 

In  party,  furious  to  her  power  J 
A bitter  whig,  or  tory  sour  ; 

Her  arguments  directly  tend 
Against  the  side  she  would  defend  ; 

Will  prove  herself  a tory  plain, 

From  principles  the  whigs  maintain  j 
And  to  defend  the  whiggish  cause, 

Her  topics  from  the  tones  draws. 

O yes  ! if  any  man  can  find 
More  virtues  in  a woman’s  mind, 

Let  them  be  sent  to  Mrs.  Harding ; # 

She’ll  pay  the  charges  to  a farthing  ; 

Take  notice,  she  has  my  commission 
To  add  them  in  the  next  edition  ; 

They  may  outsell  a better  thing  : 

So,  holloo,  boys  ; God  save  the  king  f 


THE  JOURNAL  OF  A MODERN  LADY. 

IN  A LETTER  TO  A PERSON  OF  QUALITY.  1 728. 

SIR,  ’twas  a most  unfriendly  part 

In  you,  who  ought  to  know  my  heart, 

Are  well  acquainted  with  my  zeal 
For  all  the  female  commonweal — 

How  could  it  come  into  your  mind 
To  pitch  on  me,  of  all  mankind, 

Against  the  sex  to  write  a satire, 

And  brand  me  for  a woman-hater? 

On  me,  who  think  them  all  so  fair, 

They  rival  Venus  to  a hair ; 

Their  virtues  never  ceased  to  sing, 

Since  first  I learn’d  to  tune  a string? 

Methinks  I hear  the  ladies  cry, 

“ Will  he  his  character  belie  ? 

Must  never  our  misfortunes  end  ? 

And  have  we  lost  our  only  friend  ?* 

* Widow  of  John  Harding,  the  Drapier’s  printer. 


5S« 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


Ah,  lovely  nymphs  ! remove  your  fear% 

No  more  let  fall  those  precious  tears. 

Sooner  shall,  &c. 

« 

[Here  several  verses  are  omitted,  J 

The  hound  be  hunted  by  the  hare, 

Than  I turn  rebel  to  the  fair. 

’Twas  you  engaged  me  first  to  writer 
Then  gave  the  subject  out  of  spite  : 

The  journal  of  a modem  dame, 

Is,  by  my  promise,  what  you  claim. 

My  word  is  past,  I must  submit ; 

And  yet  perhaps  you  may  be  bit. 

I but  transcribe  ; for  not  aline 
Of  all  the  satire  shall  be  mine. 

Compell’d  by  you  to  tag  in  rhymes 
The  common  slanders  of  the  times. 

Of  modern  times,  the  guilt  is  yours. 

And  me  my  innocence  secures. 

Unwilling  Muse,  begin  thy  lay, 

The  annals  of  a female  day. 

By  nature  turn’d  to  play  the  rake 
(As  we  shall  show  you  in  the  sequel) 

The  modern  dame  is  waked  by  noon, 

(Some  authors  say  not  quite  so  soon) 

Because,  though  sore  against  her  will. 

She  sat  all  night  up  at  quadrille. 

She  stretches,  gapes,  unglues  her  eyes. 

And  asks,  if  it  be  time  to  rise  ; 

Of  headache  and  the  spleen  complains  ; 

And  then,  to  cool  her  heated  brains, 

Her  nightgown  and  her  slippers  brought 
Takes  a large  dram  of  citron- water. 

Then  to  her  glass  ; and  “ Betty,  prayt 
Don’t  I look  frightfully  to-day  ? 

But  was  it  not  confounded  hard  ? 

Well,  if  I ever  touch  a card  ! 

Four  matadores,  and  lose  codille  ! 

Depend  upon’t,  I never  will. 

But  run  to  Tom,  and  bid  him  fix 
The  ladies  here  to-night  by  six.” 

“ Madam,  the  goldsmith  waits  below  * 

He  says,  his  business  is  to  know 

If  you’ll  redeem  the  silver  cup 

He  keeps  in  pawn  ?” — “ First,  show  him  upw* 

u Your  dressing-plate  he’ll  be  content 

To  take,  for  interest  cent . per  cent. 

And,  madam,  there’s  my  Lady  Spade 
Has  sent  this  letter  by  her  maid.” 


JOURNAL  OF  A MODERN  LADY* 

u Well,  I remember  what  she  won  ; 

And  has  she  sent  so  soon  to  dun  ? 

Here,  carry  down  these  ten  pistoles 
My  husband  left  to  pay  for  coals  : 

I thank  my  stars,  they  all  are  light ; 

And  I may  have  revenge  to-night 
Now,  loitering  o’er  her  tea  and  cream. 

She  enters  on  her  usual  theme  ; 

Her  last  night’s  ill-success  repeats, 

Calls  Lady  Spade  a hundred  cheats  ; 

“ She  slipt  spadillo  in  her  breast,  • 

Then  thought  to  turn  it  to  a jest  : 

There’s  Mrs.  Cut  and  she  combine. 

And  to  each  other  give  the  sign.’’ 

Through  every  game  pursues  her  tale^ 
Like  hunters  o’er  their  evening  ale. 

Now  to  another  scene  give  place  : 

Enter  the  folks  with  silks  and  lace : 

Fresh  matter  for  a world  of  chat, 

Right  Indian  this,  right  Mechlin  that : 

“ Observe  this  pattern  ; there’s  a stuff ; 

I can  have  customers  enough. 

Dear  madam,  you  are  grown  so  hard — 
This  lace  is  worth  twelve  pounds  a yards 
Madam,  if  there  be  truth  in  man, 

I never  sold  so  cheap  a fan.” 

This  business  of  importance  o’er. 

And  madam  almost  dress’d  by  four  ; 

The  footman,  in  his  usual  phrase, 

Comes  up  with,  “ Madam,  dinner  stays,* 
She  answers  in  her  usual  style, 
w The  cook  must  keep  it  back  awhile  t 
I never  can  have  time  to  dress, 

No  woman  breathing  takes  up  less  ; 

I’m  hurried  so,  it  makes  me  sick  ; 

I wish  the  dinner  at  Old  Nick.” 

At  table  now  she  acts  her  part. 

Has  all  the  dinner  cant  by  heart : 

I thought  we  were  to  dine  alone, 

My  dear  ; for  sure,  if  I had  known 
This  company  would  come  to-day — • 

But  really,  ’tis  my  spouse’s  way  ! 

He’s  so  unkind,  he  never  sends 
To  tell  when  he  invites  his  friends  S 
I wish  ye  may  but  have  enough  !” 

And  while  with  all  this  paltry  stuff 
She  sits  tormenting  every  guest, 

N or  gives  her  tongue  one  moment’s  rest. 
In  phrases  batter'd,  stale,  and  trite, 

Which  modern  ladies  call  polite, 


55* 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS • 


You  see  the  booby  husband  sit 
In  admiration  at  her  wit  ! 

But  let  me  now  a while  survey 
Our  madam  o’er  her  evening  tea  ; 
Surrounded  with  her  noisy  clans 
Of  prudes,  coquettes,  and  harridans  ; 
When,  frighted  at  the  clamorous  crew. 
Away  the  God  of  Silence  flew, 

And  fair  Discretion  left  the  place, 

And  Modesty  with  blushing  face; 

Now  enters  overweening  Pride, 

And  Scandal,  ever  gaping  wide, 

Hypocrisy  with  frown  severe, 

Scurrility  with  gibing  air  ; 

Rude  Laughter  seeming  like  to  burst, 

And  Malice  always  judging  worst ; 

And  Vanity  with  pocket-glass, 

And  Impudence  with  front  of  brass  ; 

And  studied  Affectation  came, 

Each  limb  and  feature  out  of  frame  ; 

While  Ignorance,  with  brain  of  lead, 

Flew  hovering  o’er  each  female  head. 

Why  should  I ask  of  thee,  my  Musei, 

A hundred  tongues,  as  poets  use, 

When,  to  give  every  dame  her  due, 

A hundred  thousand  were  too  few  ? 

Or  how  should  I,  alas  ! relate 
The  sum  of  all  their  senseless  prate, 

Their  innuendoes,  hints,  and  slanders. 
Their  meaning  lewd,  and  double  entendres  $ 
Now  comes  the  general  scandal  charge; 
What  some  invent,  the  rest  enlarge  ; 

And,  “ Madam,  if  it  be  a lie, 

You  have  the  tale  as  cheap  as  I ; 

I must  conceal  my  author’s  name  ; 

But  now, ’tis  known  to  common  fame* 

Say,  foolish  females,  bold  and  blind. 

Say,  by  what  fatal  turn  of  mind, 

Are  you  on  vices  most  severe, 

Wherein  yourselves  have  greatest  share  ? 
Thus  every  fool  herself  deludes  ; 

The  prudes  condemn  the  absent  prudes 
Mopsa,  who  stinks  her  spouse  to  death. 
Accuses  Chloe’s  tainted  breath  ; 

Hercina,  rank  with  sweat,  presumes 
To  censure  Phyllis  for  perfumes  ; 

While  crooked  Cynthia,  sneering,  says, 
That  Florimel  wears  iron  stays  ; 

Chloe,  of  every  coxcomb  jealous. 

Admires  how  girls  can  talk  with  fellows  ; 


553 


JOURNAL  OF  A MODERN  LADY. 

And,  full  of  indignation,  frets, 

That  women  should  be  such  coquettes  : 
Iris,  for  scandal  most  notorious, 

Cries,  “ Lord,  the  world  is  so  censorious  f* 
And  Rufa,  with  her  combs  of  lead, 
Whispers  that  Sappho’s  hair  is  red  : 

Aura,  whose  tongue  you  hear  a mile  hence^ 
Talks  half  a day  in  praise  of  silence : 

And  Sylvia,  full  of  inward  guilt, 

Calls  Amoret  an  arrant  jilt. 

Now  voices  over  voices  rise, 

While  each  to  be  the  loudest  vies : 

They  contradict,  affirm,  dispute, 

No  single  tongue  one  moment  mute  ; 

All  mad  to  speak,  and  none  to  hearken. 
They  set  the  very  lapdog  barking ; 

Their  chattering  makes  a louder  din 
Than  fishwives  o’er  a cup  of  gin ; 

Not  schoolboys  at  a barring-out 
Raised  ever  such  incessant  rout: 

The  jumbling  particles  of  matter 
In  chaos  made  not  such  a clatter; 

Far  less  the  rabble  roar  and  rail. 

When  drunk  with  sour  election  ale. 

Nor  do  they  trust  their  tongues  alone. 
But  speak  a language  of  their  own* 

Can  read  a nod,  a shrug,  a look, 

Far  better  than  a printed  book; 

Convey  a libel  in  a frown, 

And  wink  a reputation  down  : 

Or,  by  the  tossing  of  the  fan, 

Describe  the  lady  and  the  man. 

But  see,  the  female  club  disbands* 

Each  twenty  visits  on  her  hands. 

Now  all  alone  poor  madam  sits 
In  vapours  and  hysteric  fits: 

“ And  was  not  Tom  this  morning  sent? 

I’d  lay  my  life  he  never  went : 

Past  six,  and  not  a living  soul  ! 

I might  by  this  have  won  a vole.* 

A dreadful  interval  of  spleen  ! 

How  shall  we  pass  the  time  between  ? 
u Here,  Betty,  let  me  take  my  drops ; 

And  feel  my  pulse,  I know  it  stops  : 

This  head  of  mine,  lord,  how  it  swims 
And  such  a pain  in  all  my  limbs  !” 

“ Dear  madam,  try  to  take  a nap  - 
But  now  they  hear  a footman’s  rap  ; 

M Go,  run,  and  light  the  ladies  up  ; 

It  must  be  one  before  we  sup?* 


554 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


The  table,  cards  and  counters  set. 

And  all  the  gamester  ladies  met, 

Her  spleen  and  fits  recover'd  quite. 

Our  madam  can  sit  up  all  night  ; 

44  Whoever  comes,  I'm  not  within,”—* 
Quadrille’s  the  word,  and  so  begin. 

How  can  the  Muse  her  aid  impact* 
Unskill’d  in  all  the  terms  of  art? 

Or  in  harmonious  numbers  put 
The  deal,  the  shuffle,  and  the  cut  ? 

The  superstitious  whims  relate, 

That  fill  a female  gamester’s  pate? 

What  agony  of  soul  she  feels 
To  see  a knave’s  inverted  heels  ! 

She  draws  up  card  by  card,  to  find 
Good  fortune  peeping  from  behind  ; 

With  panting  heart,  and  earnest  eye% 

In  hope  to  see  spadillo  rise  ; 

In  vain,  alas  ! her  hope  is  fed  ; 

She  draws  an  ace,  and  sees  it  red  ; 

In  ready  counters  never  pays, 

But  pawns  her  snuff-box,  rings,  and  key3f 
Ever  with  some  new  fancy  struck, 

Tries  twenty  charms  to  mend  her  luck. 

44  This  morning,  when  the  parson  came, 

I said  I should  not  win  a game. 

This  odious  chair,  how  came  I stuck  in’t? 

I think  I never  had  good  luck  in’t. 

I’m  so  uneasy  in  my  stays  ; 

Your  fan  a moment,  if  you  please. 

Stand  farther,  girl,  or  get  you  gone ; 

I always  lose  when  you  look  on.” 

44  Lord,  madam,  you  have  lost  codille  J 
I never  saw  you  play  so  ill.” 

44  Nay,  madam,  give  me  leave  to  say, 
*Twas  you  that  threw  the  game  away  ; 
When  Lady  Tricksey  play’d  a four. 

You  took  it  with  a matadore  ; 

I saw  you  touch  your  wedding-ring 
Before  my  lady  call’d  a king  ; 

You  spoke  a word  began  with  H, 

And  I know  whom  you  mean  to  teach. 
Because  you  held  the  king  of  hearts, 

Fie,  madam,  leave  these  little  arts.” 
“That’s  not  so  bad  as  one  that  rubs 
Her  chair  to  call  the  king  of  clubs  ; 

And  makes  her  partner  understand 
A matadore  is  in  her  hand.” 

44  Madam,  you  have  no  cause  to  flounce^ 

I swear  I saw  you  thrice  renounce.5' 


MAD  MULLINIX  AND  TIMOTHY. 


555 


“ And  truly,  madam,  I know  when 
Instead  of  five  you  scor’d  me  ten. 

Spadillo  here  has  got  a mark  : 

A child  may  know  it  in  the  dark  : 

I guess’d  the  hand  ; it  seldom  fails  ; 

I wish  some  folks  would  pare  their  nails.’* 

While  thus  they  rail,  and  scold,  and  storm. 

It  passes  but  for  common  form  : 

But,  conscious  that  they  all  speak  true. 

And  give  each  other  but  their  due. 

It  never  interrupts  the  game, 

Oonakes  them  sensible  of  shame. 

The  time  too  precious  now  to  waste. 

The  supper  gobbled  up  in  haste  ; 

Again  afresh  to  cards  they  run, 

As  if  they  had  but  just  begun. 

But  I shall  not  again  repeat 

How  oft  they  squabble,  snarl,  and  cheat. 

At  last  they  hear  the  watchman  knock, 

“ A frosty  morn — past  four  ©’clocks 
The  chairmen  are  not  to  be  found, 

“ Come,  let  us  play  the  other  round.’1 
Now  all  in  haste  they  huddle  on 
Their  hoods,  their  cloaks,  and  get  them  gone; 

But,  first,  the  winner  must  invite 
The  company  to-morrow  night. 

Unlucky  madam,  left  in  tears, 

(Who  now  again  quadrille  forswears) 

With  empty  purse,  and  aching  head, 

Steals  to  her  sleeping  spouse  to  bed. 

% 

A DIALOGUE 

BETWEEN  MAD  MULLINIX  AND  TIMOTHY. 

1728. 

MI  OWN ’tis  not  my  bread  and  butter 
. But  prithee,  Tim,  why  all  this  clutte  ? 

Why  ever  in  these  raging  fits 
Damning  to  Hell  the  Jacobites? 

When  if  you  search  the  kingdom  round, 

There’s  hardly  twenty  to  be  found  ; 

No,  not  among  the  priests  and  friars — 

T.  ’Twixtyou  and  me,  G — d d — n the  liars  I 
M.  The  tories  are  gone  every  man  over 
To  our  illustrious  house  of  Hanover; 

From  ail  their  conduct  this  is  plain  ; 

And  then — 

T.  G— d d— -n  the  liars  again  ! 


556 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


Did  not  an  earl  but  lately  vote, 

To  bring  in  (I  could  cut  his  throat) 

Our  whole  accounts  of  public  debts? 

M.  Lord,  how  this  frothy  coxcomb  frets ! \asidi* 
T.  Did  not  an  able  statesman  bishop 
This  dangerous  horrid  motion  dish  up 
As  popish  craft?  did  he  not  railon’t ? 

Show  fire  and  faggot  in  the  tail  on’t  ? 

Proving  the  earl  a grand  offender, 

And  in  a plot  for  the  pretender  ; 

Whose  fleet,  ,tis  all  our  friends’  opinion, 

Was  then  embarking  at  Avignon  ? • 

M.  These  wrangling  jars  of  whig  and  tory* 

Are  stale  and  worn  as  Troy-town  story  ; 

The  wrong, ’uncertain,  you  were  both  in, 

And  now  you  rind  you  fought  for  nothing. 

Your  faction,  when  their  game  was  new. 

Might  want  such  noisy  fools  as  you  ; 

But  you,  when  all  the  show  is  past, 

Resolve  to  stand  it  out  the  last ; 

Like  Martin  Marall,*  gaping  on, 

Not  minding  when  the  song  is  done. 

When  all  the  bees  are  gone  to  settle, 

You  clatter  still  your  brazen  kettle. 

The  leaders  whom  you  listed  under, 

Have  dropp’d  their  arms,  and  seized  the  plunder! 
And  when  the  war  is  past,  you  come 
To  rattle  in  their  ears  your  drum  ; 

And  as  that  hateful  hideous  Grecian, 

Thersites  (he  was  your  relation) 

• Was  more  abhorr’d  and  scorn’d  by  those 

With  whom  he  served  than  by  his  foes  $ 

So  thou  art  grown  the  detestation 
Of  all  thy  party  through  the  nation  : 

Thy  peevish  and  perpetual  teasing 
With  plot~,  andjacobites,  and  treason. 

Thy  busy  never-meaning  face, 

Thy  screw’d*up  front,  thy  state  grimace* 

Thy  formal  nods,  important  sneers, 

Thy  whisperings  foisted  in  all  ears, 

(Which  are,  whatever  you  may  think, 

But  nonsense  wrapt  up  in  a stink) 

Have  made  thy  presence,  in  a true  sense* 

To  thy  own  side,  so  d — n’d  a nuisance, 

That,  when  they  have  you  in  their  eye, 

As  if  the  Devil  drove,  they  fly. 

T.  My  good  friend  Mullinix,  forbear; 

I vow  to  G — .you’re  too  severe  : 

# A character  in  one  of  Dryden’s  comedies* 


MAD  MULLINIX  AND  TIMOTHY 


53 


If  it  could  ever  yet  be  known 
I took  advice,  except  my  own, 

It  should  be  yours  ; but  d — n my  blood  1 
I must  pursue  the  public  good  : 

The  faction  (is  it  not  notorious  ?) 

Keck  at  the  memory  of  Glorious 
*Tis  true  ; nor  need  I to  be  told 
My  quondam  friends  are  grown  so  coldj 
That  scarce  a creature  can  be  found 
To  prance  with  me  the  statue  round. 

The  public  safety,  I foresee, 

Henceforth  depends  alone  on  me  : 

And  while  this  vital  breath  I blow. 

Or  from  above  or  from  below, 

Til  sputter,  swagger,  curse,  and  rail, 

The  tories,  terror,  scourge  and  flail. 

M.  Tim,  you  mistake  the  matter  quite; 
The  tories  ! you  are  their  delight : 

And  should  you  act  a different  part, 

Be  grave  and  wise,  ;twould  break  their  heart. 
Why,  Tim  you  have  a taste,  I know, 

And  often  see  a puppet-show  : 

Observe  the  audience  is  in  pain, 

While  Punch  is  hid  behind  the  scene; 

But,  when  they  hear  his  rusty  voice, 

With  what  impatience  they  rejoice  ! 

And  then  they  value  not  two  straws, 

How  Solomon  decides  the  cause, 

Which  the  true  mother,  which  pretender  t 
Nor  listen  to  the  witch  of  Endor. 

Should  Faustus,  with  the  Devil  behind  him. 
Enter  the  stage,  they  never  mind  him  ; 

If  Punch,  to  stir  their  fancy,  shows 
In  at  the  door  his  monstrous  nose, 

Then  sudden  draws  it  back  again  : 

O what  a pleasure  mix’d  with  pain  1 
You  every  moment  think  an  age, 

Till  he  appears  upon  the  stage  : 

And  first  his  bum  you  see  him  clap 
Upon  the  Queen  of  Sheba’s  lap  : 

The  duke  of  Lorraine  drew  his  sword ; 
Punch  roaring  ran,  and  running  roar’d, 
Reviles  all  people  in  his  jargon, 

And  sells  the  king  of  Spain  a bargain  ; 

St.  George  himself  he  plays  the  wag  on, 

And  mounts  astride  upon  the  dragon  • 

He  gets  a thousand  thumps  and  kicks, 

Yet  cannot  leave  his  roguish  tricks  ; 

* King  William  112. 


558 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


In  every  action  thrusts  his  nose  ; 

The  reason  why,  no  mortal  knjiws  ; 

There’s  not  a puppet  made  of  wood, 

But  what  would  hang  him  if  they  could  ; 

While,  teasing  all,  by  all  he’s  teased, 

How  well  are  the  spectators  pleased  ! 

Who  in  the  motion  have  no  share, 

But  purely  come  to  hear  and  stare  ; 

Have  no  concern  for  Sabra’s  sake, 

Which  gets  the  better,  saint  or  snake, 

Provided  Punch  (for  there’s  the  jest) 

Be  soundly  maul’d  and  plague  the  rest* 

Thus,  Tim,  philosophers  suppose, 

The  world  consists  of  puppet-shows  ; 

Where  petulant  conceited  fellows 
Perform  the  part  of  Punchinelloes  : 

So  at  this  booth,  which  we  call  Dublin, 

Tim,  thou’rt  the  Punch  to  stir  up  troub’e  £ 
You  wriggle,  fidge,  and  make  a rout ; 

Put  all  your  brother  puppets  out, 

Run  on  in  a perpetual  round, 

To  tease,  perplex,  disturb,  confound  ; 

Intrude  with  monkey  grin  and  clatter 
To  interrupt  all  serious  matter  ; 

Are  grown  the  nuisance  of  your  clan, 

Who  hate  and  scorn  you  to  a man  ; 

But  then,  the  lookers-on,  the  tories, 

You  still  divert  with  merry  stories  ; 

They  would  consent  that  all  the  crew 
Were  hang’d,  before  they’d  part  with  yo*. 

But  tell  roe,  Tim,  upon  the  spot, 

By  all  this  toil  what  hast  thou  got? 

If  tories  must  have  all  the  sport, 

I fear  you  you’ll  be  disgraced  at  court. 

T.  Got?  D — n my  blood  ! I frank  my  letters. 
Walk  to  my  place  before  my  betters ; 

And  simple  as  I now  stand  here, 

Expect  in  time  to  be  a peer — 

Got  ? D — n me  ! why  I got  my  will ! 

Ne’er  hold  my  peace,  and  ne’er  stand  still  ; 

I bravely  call  the  tories  Jacks 

And  sons  of  whores — behind  their  backs. 

But  could  you  bring  me  once  to  think, 

That  when  I strut,  and  stare,  and  stink, 

Revile  and  slander,  fume  and  storm, 

Betray,  make  oath,  impeach,  inform, 

With  such  a constant  loyal  zeal 
To  serve  myself  and  commonweal, 

And  fret  the  tories’  soul  to  death, 

I did  but  lose  my  precious  breath  ; 


MAD  MULL1NIX  AND  TIMOTHY. 


559 


And  when  I damn  my  soul  to  plague  ’em. 
Am,  as  you  tell  me,  but  their  may-game  ; 
Consume  my  vitals  ! they  shall  know, 

I am  not  to  be  treated  so  : 

I’d  rather*hang  myself  by  half, 

Than  give  those  rascals  cause  to  laugh. 

But  how,  my  friend,  can  I endure, 

Once  so  renown’d,  to  live  obscure  ? 

No  little  boys  and  girls  to  cry, 

“There’s  nimble  Tim  a passing  by!” 

No  more  my  dear  delightful  way  tread 
Of  keeping  up  a party  hatred  ? 

Will  none  of  the  tory  dogs  pursue, 

When  through  the  streets  I cry  halloo  ? 

Must  all  my  d — n-me’s,  bloods-and->vound% 
Pass  only  now  for  empty  sounds  ? 

Shall  tory  rascals  be  elected, 

Although  I swear  them  disaffected  ? 

And  when  I roar  a “ plot,  a plot !” 

Will  our  own  party  mind  me  not? 

So  qualified  to  swear  and  lie, 

Will  they  not  trust  me  for  a spy  ? 

Dear  Muilinix,  your  good  advice 
I beg  ; you  see  the  case  is  nice  : 

0 ! were  I equal  in  renown. 

Like  thee  to  please  this  thankless  town  f 
Or  blest  with  such  engaging  parts 
To  win  the  truant  schoolboys’  hearts  ! 

Thy  virtues  meet  their  just  reward. 

Attended  by  the  sable  guard. 

Charm’d  by  thy  voice,  the ’prentice  drops 
The  snow-ball  destined  at  thy  chops  ; 

Thy  graceful  steps,  and  colonel’s  air, 

Allure  the  cinder-picking  fair. 

M.  No  more — in  mark  of  true  affection 

1 take  thee  under  my  protection  : 

Your  parts  are  good,’tis  not  denied ; 

I wish  they  had  been  well  applied  ; 

But  now  observe  my  counsel,  (viz.) 

Adapt  your  habit  to  your  phiz  ; 

You  must  no  longer  thus  equip  ye, 

As  Horace  says,  opt  at  ephippia, 

(There’s  Latin  too,  that  you  may  see 
How  much  improved  by  Dr. ) 

I have  a coat  at  home,  that  you  may  try  j 
*Tis  just  like  this,  which  hangs  by  geometry  f 
My  hat  has  much  the  nicer  air  ; 

Your  block  will  fit  it  to  a hair  ; 

That  wig,  I would  not  for  the  world 
Have  it  so  formal,  and  so  curl’d ; 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


^Twill  be  so  oily  and  so  sleek, 

When  I have  lain  in  it  a week, 

You’ll  find  it  well  prepared  to  take 
The  figure  of  toupee  and  snake.  # 

Thus  dress’d  alike  from  top  to  toe, 

That  which  is  which ’tis  hard  to  knowf 
When  first  in  public  we  appear, 

I’ll  lead  the  van,  you  keep  the  rear; 

Be  careful,  as  you  walk  behind  ; 

U se  all  the  talents  of  your  mind  ; 

Be  studious  well  to  imitate 
My  portly  motion,  mien,  and  gait ; 

Mark  iny  address,  and  learn  my  style, 
When  to  look  scornful,  when  to  smile  ) 
Nor  sputter  out  your  oaths  so  fast, 

But  keep  your  swearing  to  the  last. 

Then  at  our  leisure  we’ll  be  witty, 

And  in  the  streets  divert  the  city  ; 

The  ladies  from  the  windows  gaping, 

The  children  all  our  motions  aping. 

Your  conversation  to  refine, 

I’ll  take  you  to  some  friends  of  mine  ; 
Choice  spirits,  who  employ  their  parts 
To  mend  the  world  by  useful  arts  ; 

Some  cleansing  hollow  tubes,  to  spy 
Direct  the  zenith  of  the  sky  ; 

Some  have  the  city  in  their  care. 

From  noxious  steams  to  purge  the  air  ; 
Some  teach  us  in  these  dangerous  days 
How  to  walk  upright  in  our  ways  ; 

Some  whose  reforming  hands  engage 
To  lash  the  lewdness  of  the  age  ; 

Some  for  the  public  service  go, 

Perpetual  envoys  to  and  fro  : 

Whose  able  heads  support  the  weight 
Of  twenty  ministers  of  state. 

We  scorn,  for  want  of  talk,  to  jabber 
Of  parties  o’er  our  bonny  clabber ; 

Nor  are  we  studious  to  inquire, 

Who  votes  for  manors,  who  for  hire  : 

Our  care  is,  to  improve  the  mind 
With  what  concerns  all  human  kind  J 
The  various  scenes  of  mortal  life  ; 

Who  beats  her  husband,  who  his  wife  5 
Or  how  the  bully  at  a stroke 
Knock’d  down  the  boy,  the  lantern  broke* 
One  tells  the  rise  of  cheese  and  oatmeal  ; 
Another  when  he  got  a hot  meal ; 

One  gives  advice  in  proverbs  old, 
Instructs  us  how  to  tame  a scold  ; 


TIM  AND  THE  TABLES, 


561 

One  shows  how  bravely  Audouin  died. 

And  at  the  gallows  all  denied  ; 

How  by  the  almanack  ’tis  clear, 

That  herrings  will  be  cheap  this  year. 

T.  Dear  Mullinix,  I now  lament 
My  precious  time  so  long  misspent. 

By  nature  meant  for  nobler  ends ; 

Q,  introduce  me  to  your  friends ! 

For  whom  by  birth  I was  design’d, 

Till  politics  debased  my  mind  : 

1 give  myself  entire  to  you  : 

G — d d— n the  whigs  and  tories  too  1 


TIM  AND. THE  FABLES. 

MY  meaning  will  be  best  unravell’d, 

When  I premise  that  Tim  has  travell’d* 
In  Lucas’s  by  chance  there  lay 
The  Fables  writ  by  Mr.  Gay. 

Tim  set  the  volume  on  a table, 

Read  over  here  and  there  a fable  ; 

And  found,  as  he  the  pages  twirl’d, 

The  monkey  who  had  seen  the  world  z 
(For  Tonson  had,  to  help  the  sale, 

Prefix’d  a cut  to  every  tale.) 

The  monkey  was  completely  drest. 

The  beau  in  all  his  airs  exprest. 

Tim.  with  surprise  and  pleasure  storing. 

Ran  to  the  glass,  and  then  comparing 
His  own  sweet  figure  with  the  print, 
Distinguish’d  every  feature  in’t, 

The  twist,  the  squeeze,  the  rump,  the  fidge  in  all. 
Just  as  they  look’d  in  the  original. 

“ ’Tis  a true  copy,  I’ll  say  that  for’t ; 

I well  remember,  when  I sat  for’t. 

My  very  face,  at  first  I knew  it; 

Just  in  this  dress  the  painter  drew  it.” 

Tim,  with  his  likeness  deeply  smitten, 

Would  read  what  underneath  was  written* 

The  merry  tale  with  moral  grave. 

He  now  began  to  storm  and  rave  ; 

“ The  cursed  villain  ! now  I see 
This  was  a libel  meant  at  me  ; 

These  scribblers  grow  so  bold  of  late 
Against  us  ministers  of  state  ! 

Such  Jacobites  as  he  deserve — 

D — n me ! I say,  they  ought  to  starve.* ' 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


56a 


TOM  MULLINIX  AND  DICK* 

TOM  and  Dick  had  equal  fame, 

And  both  had  equal  knowledge  5 
Tom  could  write  and  spell  his  name^ 
But  Dick  had  seen  the  college. 

Dick  would  cock  his  nose  in  scorn. 

But  Tom  was  kind  and  loving ; 

Tom  a footboy  bred  and  born, 

But  Dick  was  from  an  oven. 

Dick  could  neatly  dance  a jig, 

But  Tom  was  best  at  borees ; 

Tom  would  pray  for  every  whig. 

And  Dick  curse  all  the  tories. 

Dick  would  make  a woful  noise. 

And  scold  at  an  election  ; 

Tom  huzza'd  the  blackguard  boys. 

And  held  them  in  subjection. 

Tom  could  move  with  lordly  grace, 
Dick  nimbly  skipp’d  the  gutter ; 

Tom  could  talk  with  solemn  face, 

But  Dick  could  better  sputter. 

Dick  was  come  to  high  renown 
Since  he  commenced  physician  5 
Tom  was  held  by  all  the  town 
The  deeper  politician. 

Tom  had  the  genteeler  swing, 

His  hat  could  nicely  put  on ; 

Dick  knew  better  how  to  swing. 

His  cane  upon  a button. 

Dick  for  repartee  was  fit, 

And  Tom  for  deep  discerning  5 
Dick  was  thought  the  brighter  wit. 

But  Tom  had  better  learning. 

Dick  with  zealous  noes  and  ayes 
Could  roar  as  loud  as  Stentor* 

In  the  house  'tis  all  he  says  ; 

But  Tom  is  eloquenter. 


TO  MAKE  A BIRTHDAY  SONG. 


DIRECTIONS  FOR  MAKING  A BIRTHDAY  SONG. 
1729. 

TO  form  a just  and  finish’d  piece, 

Take  twenty  gods  of  Rome  or  Greece^ 

Whose  godships  are  in  chief  request, 

And  fit  your  present  subject  best  : 

And,  should  it  be  your  hero’s  case, 

To  have  both  male  and  female  race, 

Your  business  must  be  to  provide 
A score  of  goddesses  beside. 

Some  call  their  monarchs  sons  of  Saturnp 
For  which  they  bring  a modern  pattern  ; 

Because  they  might  have  heard  of  one, 

Who  often  long’d  to  eat  his  son  : 

But  this  I think  will  not  go  down, 

For  here  the  father  kept  his  crown. 

Why,  then,  appoint  him  son  of  Jove^ 

Who  met  his  mother  in  a grove  : 

To  this  we  freely  shall  consent, 

Well  knowing  what  the  poets  meant  5 
And  in  their  sense,  ’twixt  me  and  you, 

It  may  be  literally  true. 

Next,  as  the  laws  of  verse  require, 

He  must  be  greater  than  his  sire  ; 

For  Jove,  as  every  schoolboy  knows, 

Was  able  Saturn  to  depose ; 

And  sure  no  Christian  poet  breathing 
Would  be  more  scrupulous  than  a heathepf 
Or  if  to  blasphemy  it  tends, 

That’s  but  a trifle  among  friends. 

Your  hero  now  another  Mars  is, 

Makes  mighty  armies  turn  their  a — s. 

Behold  his  glittering  faulchion  mow 
Whole  squadrons  at  a single  blow ; 

While  Victory,  with  wings  outspread, 

Flies,  like  an  eagle  o’er  his  head  ; 

His  milk-white  steed  upon  its  haunches* 

Or  pawing  into  dead  men’s  paunches  : 

As  Overton  has  drawn  his  sire, 

Still  seen  o’er  many  an  alehouse  fire, 

Then  from  his  arms  hoarse  thunder  rolls, 

As  loud  as  fifty  mustard-bowls  : 

For  thunder  still  his  arm  supplies, 

And  lightning  always  in  his  eyes. 

They  both  are  cheap  enough  in  conscience, 

And  serve  to  echo  rattling  nonsense. 

36-2 


5^4 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


The  rambling  words  march  fierce  along 
Made  trebly-dreadful  in  your  song. 

Sweet  poet,  hired  for  birthday  rhymes. 

To  sing  of  wars,  choose  peaceful  times. 
What  though,  for  fifteen  years  and  more 
Janus  has  lock'd  his  temple  door  ; 

Though  not  a coffee-house  we  read  in 
Has  mention'd  arms  on  this  side  Sweden  ; 
Nor  London  Journals,  nor  the  Postmen, 
Though  fond  of  warlike  lies  as  most  men  f 
Thou  still  with  battles  stuff  thy  headful : 
For  must  thy  hero  not  be  dreadful  ? 

Dismissing  Mars,  it  next  must  follow 
Your  conqueror  is  become  Apollo : 

That  he’s  Apollo  is  as  plain  as 
That  Robin  Walpole  is  Maecenas  ; 

But  that  he  struts,  and  that  he  squints, 
You'd  know  him  by  Apollo's  prints. 

Old  Phcebus  is  but  half  as  bright, 

For  yours  can  shine  both  day  and  night. 
The  first,  perhaps,  may  once  an  age 
Inspire  you  with  poetic  rage  ; 

Your  Phoebus  Royal,  every  day, 

Not  only  can  inspire,  but  pay. 

Then  make  this  new  Apollo  sit 
Sole  patron,  judge,  and  god  of  wit. 

44  How  from  his  altitude  he  stoops 
To  raise  up  Virtue  when  she  droops  ; 

On  Learning  how  his  bounty  flows, 

And  with  what  justice  he  bestows  : 

Fair  Isis,  and  ye  banks  of  Cam  ! , 

Be  witness  if  I tell  a flam, 

What  prodigies  in  arts  we  drain 

From  both  your  streams,  in  George's  reiglW 

As  from  the  flowery  bed  of  Nile  ’’ — 

But  here’s  enough  to  show  your  style. 
Broad  innuendoes,  such  as  this, 

If  well  applied,  can  hardly  miss  : 

For,  when  you  bring  your  song  in  print, 
He’ll  get  it  read,  and  take  the  hint 
(It  must  be  read  before  'tis  warbled, 

The  paper  gilt  and  cover  marbled), 

And  will  be  so  much  more  your  debtor, 
Because  he  never  knew  a letter. 

And,  as  he  hears  his  wit  and  sense 
(To  which  he  never  made  pretence) 

£et  out  in  hyperbolic  strains, 

A guinea  shall  reward  your  pains  : 

For  patrons  never  pay  so  well 

As  when  they  scarce  have  learn*  d to  spell. 


TO  MAKE  A BIRTHDAY  SONG. 


8^5 


Next  call  him  Neptune  : with  his  trident 
He  rules  the  sea  ; you  see  him  ride  in’t ; 
And,  if  provoked,  he  soundly  firks  his 
Rebellious  waves  with  rods,  like  Xerxes. 

He  would  have  seized  the  Spanish  plate, 
Had  not  the  fleet  gone  out  too  late  ; 

And  in  their  very  ports  besiege  them, 

But  that  he  would  not  disoblige  them, 

And  make  the  rascals  pay  him  dearly 
For  those  affronts  they  give  him  yearly. 

’Tis  not  denied  that,  when  we  write. 

Our  ink  is  black,  our  paper  white  : 

And,  when  we  scrawl  our  paper  o’er. 

We  blacken  what  was  white  before  ; 

1 think  this  practice  only  fit 

For  dealers  in  satiric  wit.  , 

But  you  some  white-lead  ink  must  get. 

And  write  on  paper  black  as  jet ; 

Your  interest  lies  to  learn  the  knack 
Of  whitening  what  before  was  black. 

Thus  your  encomium,  to  be  strong, 

Must  be  applied  directly  wrong. 

A tyrant  for  his  mercy  praise, 

And  crown  a royal  dunce  with  bays : 

A squinting  monkey  load  with  charms, 

And  paint  a coward  fierce  in  arms. 

Is  he  to  avarice  inclined  ? 

Extol  him  for  his  generous  mind  : 

And,  when  we  starve  for  want  of  corn. 
Come  out  with  Amalthea’s  horn  ; 

For  all  experience  this  evinces 
The  only  art  of  pleasing  princes  : 

For  prince’s  love  you  should  descant 
On  virtues  which  they  know  they  want. 

One  compliment  I had  forgot, 

But  songsters  must  omit  it  not ; 

I freely  grant  the  thought  is  old  : 

Why,  then,  your  hero  must  be  told, 

In  him  such  virtues  lie  inherent 
To  qualify  him  God’s  vicegerent ; 

That,  with  no  title  to  inherit, 

He  must  have  been  a king  by  merit. 

Yet,  be  the  fancy  old  or  new, 

*Tis  partly  false,  and  partly  true  : • 

And,  take  it  right,  it  means  no  more 
Than  George  and  William  claim’d  before. 

Should  some  obscure  inferior  fellow. 
Like  Julius,  or  the  youth  of  Pella, 

When  all  your  list  of  Gods  is  out, 

Presume  to  show  his  mortal  snout. 


566 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


And  as  a Deity  intrude, 

Because  he  had  the  world  subdued  ; 

O let  him  not  debase  your  thoughts, 

Or  name  him  but  to  tell  his  faults. — 

Of  Gods  I only  quote  the  best, 

But  you  may  hook  in  all  the  rest. 

Now,  birthday  bard,  with  joy  proceed 
To  praise  your  empress  and  her  breed  : 

First  of  the  first,  to  vouch  your  lies, 

Bring  all  the  females  of  the  skies ; 

The  Graces,  and  their  mistress  Venus, 

Must  venture  down  to  entertain  us  : 

With  bended  knees  when  they  adore  her. 
What  dowdies  they  appear  before  her  ! 

Nor  shall  we  think  you  talk  at  random. 

For  Venus  might  be  her  great  grandam  : 

Six  thousand  years  has  lived  the  Goddessf 
Your  heroine  hardly  fifty  odd  is. 

Besides  your  songsters  oft  have  shown 
That  she  has  Graces  of  her  own  : 

Three  Graces  by  Lucina  brought  her, 

Just  three,  and  every  Grace  a daughter  ; 
Here  many  a king  his  heart  and  crown 
Shall  at  their  snowy  feet  lay  down  ; 

In  royal  robes,  they  come  by  dozens 
To  court  their  English  German  cousins  : 
Beside  a pair  of  princely  babies, 

That,  five  years  hence,  will  both  be  Hebes. 

Now  see  her  seated  in  her  throne 
With  genuine  lustre  all  her  own  ; 

Poor  Cynthia  never  shone  so  bright, 

Her  splendour  is  but  borrow'd  light ; 

And  only  with  her  brother  link'd 
Can  shine,  without  him  is  extinct. 

But  Carolina  shines  the  clearer 
With  neither  spouse  nor  brother  near  her; 
And  darts  her  beams  o’er  both  our  isles. 
Though  George  is  gone  a thousand  miles. 
Thus  Berecynthia  takes  her  place, 

Attended  by  her  heavenly  race ; 

And  sees  a son  in  every  God, 

Unawed  by  Jove's  all-shaking  nod. 

Now  sing  his  little  highness  Freddy, 

Who  struts  like  any  king  already  : 

With  so  much  beauty,  show  me  any  maid 
That  could  resist  this  charming  Ganymede  f 
Where  majesty  with  sweetness  vies, 

And,  like  his  father,  early  wise. 

Then  cut  him  out  a world  of  work, 

To  conquer  Spain,  and  quell  the  Turk  . 


TO  MAKE  A BIRTHDAY  SONG. 


Foretell  his  empire  crown’d  withbay^, 

And  golden  times,  and  halcyon  days ; 

And  swear  his  line  shall  rule  the  nation 
For  ever — till  the  conflagration. 

But,  now  it  comes  into  my  mind* 

We  left  a little  duke  behind  ; 

A Cupid  in  his  face  and  size, 

And  only  wants,  to  want  his  eyes. 

Make  some  provision  for  the  younger* 

Find  him  a kingdom  out  to  conquer  : 

Prepare  a fleet  to  waft  him  o’er, 

Make  Gulliver  his  commodore  ; 

Into  whose  pocket  valiant  Willy  put,  - 
Will  soon  subdue  the  realm  of  Liiliput 

A skilful  critic  justly  blames 
Hard,  tough,  crank,  guttural,  harsh,  stiff  namc& 
The  sense  can  ne’er  be  too  jejune, 

But  smooth  your  words  to  fit  the  tune. 

Hanover  may  do  well  enough. 

But  George  and  Brunswick  are  too  rough; 
Hesse-Darmstadt  makes  a rugged  sound* 

And  Guelph  the  strongest  ear  will  wound* 

In  vain  are  all  attempts  from  Germany 
To  find  out  proper  words  for  harmony  ; 

And  yet  I must  except  the  Rhine, 

Because  it  clinks  to  Caroline. 

Hail  queen  of  Britain,  queen  of  rhymes l 
Be  sung  ten  hundred  thousand  times  I 
Too  happy  were  the  poets’  crew 
If  their  own  happiness  they  knew  $ 

Three  syllables  did  never  meet 
So  soft,  so  sliding,  and  so  sweet : 

Nine  other  tuneful  words  like  that 
Would  prove  even  Homer’s  numbers  flab 
Behold  three  beauteous  vowels  stand, 

With  bridegroom  liquids,  hand  in  hand| 

In  concord  here  for  ever  fix’d, 

Ho  jarring  consonant  betwixt 
May  Caroline  continue  long, 

For  ever  fair  and  young  ! — in  song. 

What  though  the  royal  carcase  must* 

Squeezed  in  a coffin,  turn  to  dust ; 

Those  elements  her  name  compose, 

Like  atoms,  are  exempt  from  blows. 

Though  Caroline  may  fill  your  gap% 

Yet  still  you  must  consult  your  maps  f 
Find  rivers  with  harmonious  names* 

Sabrina,  Medway,  and  the  Thames* 

Britannia  long  will  wear  like  steel, 

But  Albion’s  cliffs  are  out  at  heel  % 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


563 


And  Patience  can  endure  no  more 
To  hear  the  Belgic  lion  roar. 

Give  up  the  phrase  of  haughty  Gaul, 

But  proud  Iberia  soundly  maul  : 

Restore  the  ships  by  Philip  taken, 

And  make  him  crouch  to  save  his  bacoiu 
Nassau,  who  got  the  name  of  Glorious, 
Because  he  never  was  victorious, 

A hanger-on  has  always  been  ; 

For  old  acquaintance  bring  him  in. 

To  Walpole  you  might  lend  a line^ 

But  much  I fear  he's  in  decline  ; 

And  if  you  chance  to  come  too  late. 
When  he  goes  out,  you  share  his  fate. 
And  bear  the  new  successor's  frown  ; 

Or  whom  you  once  sang  up  sing  down. 

Reject  with  scorn  that  stupid  notion 
To  praise  your  hero  for  devotion  ; 

Nor  entertain  a thought  so  odd, 

That  princes  should  believe  in  God  ; 

But  follow  the  securest  rule, 

And  turn  it  all  to  ridicule  : 

fTis  grown  the  choicest  wit  at  court, 

And  gives  the  maids  of  honour  sport ; 
For,  since  they  talk'd  with  doctor  Clarke^ 
They  now  can  venture  in  the  dark  : 

That  sound  divine  the  truth  hath  spoke 
And  pawn'd  his  word,  Hell  is  not  local 
This  will  not  give  them  half  the  trouble 
Of  bargains  sold,  or  meanings  double. 

Supposing  now  your  song  is  done. 

To  Mynheer  Handel  next  you  run. 

Who  artfully  will  pare  and  prune 
Your  words  to  some  Italian  tune  : 

Then  print  it  in  the  largest  letter, 

With  capitals,  the  more  the  better. 
Present  it  boldly  on  your  knee, 

And  take  a guinea  for  your  tee. 


UR  schoolmaster  may  rave  i'  th9 fit 


Of  classic  beauty  hcccet  i//a, 
Not  all  his  birch  inspires  such  wit 
As  th'  ogling  beams  of  Domitilla. 


BOUTS  RIMfiS. 


ON  SIGNORA  DOMITILLA# 


» 


HEL  TER-SKELTER. 


569 


Let  nobles  toast  in  bright  champagne 
Nymphs  higher  born  than  Domitilla  % 

111  drink  her  health,  again,  again, 

In  Berkeley’s  tar  or  sarsaparilla. 

At  Goodman’s  Fields  I’ve  much  admired 
The  postures  strange  of  Monsieur  Brill*  | 
But  what  are  they  to  the  soft  step. 

The  gliding  air  of  Domitilla? 

Virgil  has  eternized  in  song 
Tne  flying  footsteps  of  Camilla : 

Sure,  as  a prophet,  he  was  wrong  ; 

He  might  have  dream’d  of  Domitilla, 

Great  Theodose  condemn’d  a town 
For  thinking  ill  of  his  Placilla  : 

And  deuce  take  London  ! if  some  knight 
O’  th’  city  wed  not  Domitilla. 

Wheeler,  Sir  George,  in  travels  wise. 

Gives  us  a medal  of  Plantilla  ; 

But  oh ! the  empress  has  not  eyes. 

Nor  lips,  nor  breast,  like  Domitilla, 

Not  all  the  wealth  of  plunder’d  Italy, 

Piled  on  the  mules  of  king  At-tila, 

Is  worth  one  glove  (I’ll  not  tell  a bit  a lie) 

Or  garter,  snatch’d  from  Domitilla. 

Five  years  a nymph  at  certain  hamlet, 
Y-cleped  Harrow  of  the  Hill,  a- 
— bused  much  my  heart,  and  was  a damn’d  lei 
To  verse— but  now  for  Domitilla. 

Dan  Pope  consigns  Belinda’s  watch 
To  the  fair  sylphid  Momentilla, 

And  thus  I offer  up  my  catch 

To  th’  snow-white  hands  of  Domitilla 


HELTER-SKELTER ; 

THE  HUE  AND  CRY  AFTER  THE  ATTORNEYS  UPON  THEI* 
RIDING  THE  CIRCUIT. 

NOW  the  active  young  attorneys 
Briskly  travel  on  their  journeys 
Looking  big  as  any  giants, 

On  the  horses  of  their  clients; 

Like  so  many  little  Mars’s 
With  their  tilters  at  their  a— s. 


570 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 

Brazen-hilted,  lately  burnish’d, 

And  with  harness-buckles  furnish’d, 

• And  with  whips  and  spurs  so  neat, 

And  with  jockey-coats  complete. 

And  with  boots  so  very  greasy, 

And  with  saddles  eke  so  easy, 

And  with  bridles  fine  and  gay, 

Bridles  borrow’d  for  a day, 

Bridles  destined  far  to  roam, 

Ah  ! never,  never  to  come  home. 

And  with  hats  so  very  big,  sir, 

And  with  powder’d  caps  and  wigs,  sir. 
And  with  ruffles  to  be  shown, 

Cambric  ruffles  not  their  own  ; 

And  with  Holland  shirts  so  white, 

Shirts  becoming  to  the  sight, 

Shirts  bewrought  with  different  letter^ 
As  belonging  to  their  betters. 

With  their  pretty  tinsell’d  boxes, 

Gotten  from  their  dainty  doxies, 

And  with  rings  so  very  trim, 

Lately  taken  out  of  lim — * 

And  with  very  little  pence, 

And  as  very  little  sense  ; 

With  some  law,  but  little  justice, 

Having  stolen  from  my  hostess, 

From  the  barber  and  the  cutler, 

Like  the  soldier  from  the  sutler : 

From  the  vintner  and  the  tailor, 

Like  the  felon  from  the  jailor  ; 

Into  this  and  t’other  county, 

Living  on  the  public  bounty  ; 

Thorough  town  and  thorough  village^ 

All  to  plunder,  all  to  pillage  : 

Thorough  mountains,  thorough  valley^ 
Thorough  stinking  lanes  and  alleys, 
Some  to — kiss  with  farmers’  spouses, 
And  make  merry  in  their  houses  ; 

Some  to  tumble  country  wenches 
On  their  rushy  beds  and  benches ; 

And  if  they  begin  a fray, 

Draw  their  swords,  and run  away  f 

All  to  murder  equity, 

And  to  take  a double  fee  ; 

Till  the  people  all  are  quiet, 

And  forget  to  broil  and  riot, 

Low  in  pocket,  cow’d  in  courage, 

Safely  glad  to  sup  their  porridge, 

And  vacation’s  over — then, 

Hey,  for  London  town  again. 

# i.e.,  limbo,  out  of  pawn. 


THE  PUPPET-SHOW. 


THE  PUPPET-SHOW. 

THE  life  of  man  to  represent, 

And  turn  it  all  to  ridicule. 

Wit  did  a puppet-show  invent, 

Where  the  chief  actor  is  a fool. 

The  gods  of  old  were  logs  of  wood, 

And  worship  was  to  puppets  paid  ; 

In  antic  dress  the  idol  stood, 

And  priest  and  people  bow’d  the  head. 

No  wonder  then,  if  art  began, 

The  simple  votaries  to  frame, 

To  shape  in  timber  foolish  man, 

And  consecrate  the  block  to  fame, 

From  hence  poetic  fancy  learn’d 

That  trees  might  rise,  from  human  forms  f 
The  body  to  a trunk  be  turn’d, 

And  branches  issue  from  the  arms. 

Thus  Dtedalus  and  Ovid  too, 

That  man’s  a blockhead,  have  confess'd  : 
Powel  and  Stretch  the  hint  pursue  ; 

Life  is  a farce,  the  world  a jest. 

The  same  great  truth  South  Sea  has  proved 
On  that  famed  theatre,  the  alley  ; 

Where  thousands  by  directors  moved, 

Are  now  sad  monuments  of  folly. 

What  Momus  was  of  old  to  Jove, 

The  same  a Harlequin  is  now  ; 

The  former  was  buffoon  above, 

The  latter  is  a Punch  below. 

This  fleeting  scene  is  but  a stage, 

Where  various  images  appear  ; 

In  different  parts  of  youth  and  age 
Alike  the  prince  and  peasant  share. 

Some  draw  our  eyes  by  being  great, 

False  pomp  conceals  mere  wood  within  f 
And  legislators  ranged  in  state 
Are  oft  but  wisdom  in  machine. 

A stock  may  chance  to  wear  a crown, 

And  timber  as  a lord  take  place  ; 

A statue  may  put  on  a frown, 

And  cheat  us  with  a thinking  face. 


57* 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS . 


Others  are  blindly  led  away, 

And  made  to  act  for  ends  unknown  j 

By  the  mere  spring  of  wires  they  play, 
And  speak  in  language  not  their  owifc 

Too  oft,  alas  ! a scolding  wife 
Usurps  a jolly  fellow’s  throne  ; 

And  many  drink  the  cup  of  life, 

Mix’d  and  embitter’d  by  a Joan# 

In  short,  whatever  men  pursue, 

Of  pleasure,  folly,  war,  or  love  ; 

This  mimic  race  brings  all  to  view  : 
Alike  they  dress,  they  talk,  they  movci 

Go  on,  great  Stretch,  with  artful  hand, 
Mortals  to  please  and  to  deride  ; 

And,  when  death  breaks  thy  vital  band. 
Thou  shalt  put  on  a puppet’s  pride. 

^*hou  shalt  in  puny  wood  be  shown, 

Thy  image  shall  preserve  thy  fame  ; 

Ages  to  come  thy  worth  shall  own, 

Point  at  thy  limbs,  and  tell  thy  names. 

Tell  Tom,  he  draws  a farce  in  vain, 
Before  he  looks  in  nature’s  glass  ; 

Puns  cannot  form  a witty  scene, 

Nor  pedantry  for  humour  pass. 

To  make  men  act  as  senseless  wood, 
And  chatter  in  a mystic  strain, 

Is  a mere  force  on  flesh  and  blood, 

And  shows  some  error  in  the  brain; 

He  that  would  thus  refine  on  thee, 

And  turn  thy  stage  into  a school, 

The  jest  of  Punch  will  ever  be, 

And  stand  confess’d  the  greater  fool. 


DRAPIER’S-HILL.  1730. 

WE  give  the  world  to  understand 

Our  thriving  Dean  has  purchased  land  I 
A purchase,  which  will  bring  him  clear 
Above  his  rent  four  pounds  a year  ; 

Provided,  to  improve  the  ground, 

He  will  but  add  two  hundred  pound : 

And,  from  his  endless  hoarded  store. 

To  build  a house,  five  hundred  mc#e. 

Sir  Arthur  too  shall  have  his  will, 

And  call  the  mansion  Drapier’s  Hill : 

1 

I 


REASONS  FOR  NOT  BUILDING,  ETC 


573 


That,  when  a nation,  long  enslaved, 

Forgets  by  whom  it  once  was  saved  ; 

When  none  the  D rapier’s  praise  shall  sing. 
His  signs  aloft  no  longer  swing, 

His  medals  and  his  prints  forgotten, 

And  all  his  handkerchiefs  * are  rotten. 

His  famous  letters  made  waste  paper, 

This  hill  may  keep  the  name  of  Drapier  : 

In  spite  of  envy,  flourish  still, 

And  Drapier’s  vie  with  Cooper’s  hilL 


THE  DEAN’S  REASONS 
FOR  NOT  BUILDING  AT  DRAPIER’S  HIU* 

I WILL  not  build  on  yonder  mount : 

And,  should  you  call  me  to  account* 

Consulting  with  myself,  I find 
It  was  no  levity  of  mind. 

Whate’er  I promised  or  intended, 

No  fault  of  mine,  the  scheme  is  ended : 

Nor  can  you  tax  me  as  unsteady, 

I have  a hundred  causes  ready  : 

All  risen  since  that  flattering  time, 

When  Drapier’s  hill  appear’d  in  rhymes 
I am,  as  now  too  late  I find, 

The  greatest  cully  of  mankind  : 

The  lowest  boy  in  Martin’s  school 
May  turn  and  wind  me  like  a fool. 

How  could  I form  so  wild  a vision. 

To  seek  in  deserts  Fields  Elysian? 

To  live  in  fear,  suspicion,  variance, 

With  thieves,  fanatics,  and  barbarians? 

But  here  my  lady  will  object  ; 

“ Your  deanship  ought  to  recollect, 

That,  near  the  knight  of  Gosford  placed* 

Whom  you  allow  a man  of  taste, 

Your  intervals  of  time  to  spend 
With  so  conversable  a friend, 

It  would  not  signify  a pin 
Whatever  climate  you  were  in." 

'Tis  true  : but  what  advantage  comes 
To  me  from  all  a usurer’s  plums  : 

Though  I should  see  him  twice  a day, 

And  am  his  neighbour  cross  the  way  : 

• Medals  were  cast,  many  signs  hung  up,  and  handkerchiefs  made  with 
devices,  in  honour  of  the  Dean,  under  the  name  of  M.  B.  Drapier.— -Ed. 


574 


LEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKSi 


If  all  my  rhetoric  must  fail 
To  strike  him  for  a pot  of  ale  ? 

Thus,  when  the  learned  and  the  wisa 
Conceal  their  talents  from  our  eyes, 

And  from  deserving  friends  withhold 
Their  gifts,  as  misers  do  their  gold  ; 

Their  knowledge  to  themselves  confined 
Is  the  same  avarice  of  mind  ; 

Nor  makes  their  conversation  better. 

Than  if  they  never  knew  a letter. 

Such  is  the  fate  of  Gosford’s  knight, 

Who  keeps  his  wisdom  out  of  sight  ; 

Whose  uncommunicative  heart 
Will  scarce  one  precious  word  impart  $ 

Still  rapt  in  speculations  deep, 

His  outward  senses  fast  asleep  ; 

Who,  while  I talk,  a song  will  hum. 

Or,  with  his  fingers,  beat  the  drum  ; 

Beyond  the  skies  transports  his  mind, 

And  leaves  a lifeless  corpse  behind. 

But  as  for  me,  who  ne’er  could  clamber  hig\ 
To  understand  Malebranche  or  Cambray  ; 
Who  send  my  mind  (as  I believe)  less 
Than  others  do,  on  errands  sleeveless  ; 

Can  listen  to  a tale  humdrum, 

And  with  attention  read  Tom  Thumb  ; 

My  spirits  with  my  body  progging, 

Both  hand  in  hand  together  jogging  ; 

Sunk  over  head  and  ears  in  matter. 

Nor  can  of  metaphysics  smatter  ; 

Am  more  diverted  with  a quibble 
Than  dream  of  words  intelligible  ; 

And  think  all  notions  too  abstracted 
Are  like  the  ravings  of  a crack’d  head  ) 

What  intercourse  of  minds  can  be 
Betwixt  the  knight  sublime  and  me. 

If  when  I talk,  as  talk  I must, 

It  is  but  prating  to  a bust? 

Where  friendship  is  by  Fate  design'd^ 

It  forms  a union  in  the  mind  : 

But  here  I differ  from  the  knight 
In  every  point,  like  black  and  white  f 
For  none  can  say  that  ever  yet 
We  both  in  one  opinion  met : 

Not  in  philosophy,  or  ale  ; 

In  state  affairs,  or  planting  kale  ; 

In  rhetoric,  or  picking  straws  ; 

In  roasting  larks,  or  making  laws  5 
In  public  schemes,  or  catching  flies  $ 

In  parliaments,  or  pudding-pies. 


ROBIN  AND  HARRY. 


57  S 


The  neighbours  wonder  why  the  knight 
Should  in  a country  life  delight, 

Who  not  one  pleasure  entertains 
To  cheer  the  solitary  scenes  : 

His  guests  are  few,  his  visits  rare  ; 

Nor  uses  time,  nor  time  will  spare  ; 

Nor  rides,  nor  walks,  nor  hunts,  nor  fowls^ 
Nor  plays  at  cards,  or  dice,  or  bowls ; 

But,  seated  in  an  easy  chair, 

Despises  exercise  and  air. 

His  rural  walks  he  ne’er  adorns  ; 

Here  Poor  Pomona  sits  on  thorns: 

And  there  neglected  Flora  settles 
Her  bum  upon  a bed  of  nettles. 

Those  thankless  and  officious  cares 
I used  to  take  in  friends’  affairs, 

From  which  I never  could  refrain. 

And  have  been  often  chid  in  vain  : 

From  these  I am  recover’d  quite, 

At  least  in  what  regards  the  knight. 
Preserve  his  health,  his  store  increase  $ 
May  nothing  interrupt  his  peace  ! 

But  now  let  all  his  tenants  round 
First  milk  his  cows,  and  after,  pound  : 

Let  every  cottager  conspire 
To  cut  his  hedges  down  for  fire  ; 

The  naughty  boys  about  the  village 
His  crabs  and  sloes  may  freely  pillage  3 
He  still  may  keep  a pack  of  knaves 
To  spoil  his  work,  and  work  by  halves  ; 
His  meadows  may  be  dug  by  swine, 

It  shall  be  no  concern  of  mine  ; 

For  why  should  I continue  still 
To  serve  a friend  against  his  will } 


ROBIN  AND  HARRY. 

1730, 

ROBIN  to  beggars  with  a curse 

Throws  the  last  shilling  in  his  purs®  J 
And  when  the  coachman  comes  for  pay, 
The  rogue  must  call  another  day. 

Grave  Harry,  when  the  poor  are  pressing) 
Gives  them  a penny  and  God’s  blessing  ; 
But,  always  careful  of  the  main, 

With  twopence  left,  walks  home  in  rain* 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


Robin  from  noon  to  night  will  prate^ 

Run  out  in  tongue,  as  in  estate  ; 

And,  ere  a twelvemonth  and  a day. 

Will  not  have  one  new  thing  to  say. 

Much  talking  is  not  Harry’s  vice  ; 

He  need  not  tell  a story  twice  ; 

And,  if  he  always  be  so  thrifty, 

His  fund  may  last  to  five  and  fifty. 

It  so  fell  out  that  cautious  Harry, 

As  soldiers  use,  for  love  must  marry. 

And,  with  his  dame,  the  ocean  cross’d  $ 
(All  for  Love,  or  the  World  well  lost !) 
Repairs  a cabin  gone  to  ruin, 

Just  big  enough  to  shelter  two  in ; 

And  in  his  house,  if  anybody  come, 

Will  make  them  welcome  to  his  modicunv 
Where  Goody  Julia  milks  the  cows, 

And  boils  potatoes  for  her  spouse  ; 

Or  darns  his  hose,  or  mends  his  breeches* 
While  Harry’s  fencing  up  his  ditches. 

Robin,  who  ne’er  his  mind  could  fix 
To  live  without  a coach  and  six, 

To  patch  his  broken  fortunes,  found 
A mistress  worth  five-thousand  pound  ; 
Swears  he  could  get  her  in  an  hour. 

If  gaffer  Harry  would  endow  her ; 

And  sell,  to  pacify  his  wrath, 

A birth-right  for  a mess  of  broth. 

Young  Harry,  as  all  Europe  knows. 

Was  long  the  quintessence  of  beaux  ; 

But,  when  espoused,  he  ran  the  fate 
That  must  attend  the  married  state ; 
From  gold  brocade,  and  shining  armouf^ 
Was  metamorphosed  to  a farmer ; 

His  grazier’s  coat  with  dirt  besmear’d  ; 
Nor  twice  a week  will  shave  his  beard. 

Old  Robin,  all  his  youth  a sloven, 

At  fifty-two,  when  he  grew  loving, 

Clad  in  a coat  of  paduasoy, 

A flaxen  wig,  and  waistcoat  gay, 

Powder’d  from  shoulder  down  to  flanl^ 

In  courtly  style  addresses  Frank  ; 

T wice  ten  years  older  than  his  wife 
Is  doom’d  to  be  a beau  for  life  ; 
Supplying  those  defects  by  dress, 

Which  I must  leave  the  world  to  guesiU 


( 577  ) 


TO  BETTY  THE  GRISETT& 

1730. 

QUEEN  of  wit  and  beauty,  Betty  t 
Never  may  the  Muse  forget  ye  ; 
How  thy  face  charms  every  shepherd. 
Spotted  over  like  a leopard ! 

And  thy  freckled  neck,  display’d. 

Envy  breeds  in  every  maid  ; 

Like  a fly-blown  cake  of  tallow, 

Or  on  parchment  ink  turn’d  yellow  ; 

Or  a tawny  speckled  pippin, 

Shriveled  with  a winter’s  keeping. 

And,  thy  beauty  thus  despatch’d, 

Let  me  praise  thy  wit  unmatch’d. 

Sets  of  phrases,  cut  and  dry, 
Evermore  thy  tongue  supply, 

And  thy  memory  is  loaded 

With  old  scraps  from  plays  exploded  | 

Stock’d  with  repartees  and  jokes, 

Suited  to  all  Christian  folks  ; 

Shreds  of  wit,  and  senseless  rhymes. 
Blunder’d  out  a thousand  times. 

Nor  wilt  thou  of  gifts  be  sparing, 

Which  can  ne’er  be  worse  for  wearing. 
Picking  wit  among  collegians, 

In  the  playhouse  upper  regions  ; 

Where  in  eighteenpenny  gallery, 

Irish  nymphs  learn  Irish  raillery  : 

But  thy  merit  is  thy  failing, 

And  thy  raillery  is  railing. 

Thus  with  talents  well  endued 
To  be  scurrilous  and  rude  ; 

When  you  pertly  raise  your  snout, 

Fleer,  and  gibe,  and  laugh,  and  flout } 
This  among  Hibernian  asses 
For  sheer  wit  and  humour  passes. 

Thus  indulgent  Chloe,  bit, 

Swears  you  have  a world  of  wit 


I? 


$78 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


DEATH  AND  DAPHNE. 

TO  AN  AGREEABLE  YOUNG  LADY,  BUT  EXTREMELY  LEAN* 
1730. 

DEATH  went  upon  a solemn  day 
At  Pluto’s  hall  his  court  to  pay} 

The  phantom  having  humbly  kiss’d 
His  grisly  monarch’s  sooty  fist, 

Presented  him  the  weekly  bills 
Of  doctors,  fevers,  plagues,  and  pills; 

Pluto,  observing  since  the  peace 
The  burial  article  decrease, 

And,  vex’d  to  see  affairs  miscarry. 

Declar’d  in  council,  Death  must  marry  } 

Vow’d  he  no  longer  could  support 
Old  bachelors  about  his  court ; 

The  interest  of  his  realm  had  need 
That  Death  should  get  a numerous  breed  l 
Young  Deathlings,  who,  by  practice  made 
Proficient  in  their  father’s  trade, 

With  colonies  might  stock  around 
His  large  dominions  under  ground. 

A consult  of  coquettes  below 
Was  call’d,  to  rig  him  out  a beau  : 

From  her  own  head  Megara  takes 
A periwig  of  twisted  snakes  ; 

Which  in  the  nicest  fashion  curl’d, 

(Like  toupets  of  this  upper  world) 

With  flowers  of  sulphur  powder’d  well. 

That  graceful  on  his  shoulders  fell ; 

An  adder  of  the  sable  kind 
In  line  direct  hung  down  behind  ; 

The  owl,  the  raven,  and  the  bat, 

Clubb’d  for  a feather  to  his  hat ; 

His  coat,  a usurer’s  velvet  pall, 

Bequeath’d  to  Pluto,  corpse  and  all* 

But,  loth  his  person  to  expose 
Bare,  like  a carcase  pick’d  by  crows, 

A lawyer  o’er  his  hands  and  face 
Stuck  artfully  a parchment  case. 

No  new-flux’d  rake  show’d  fairer  skin  ; 

Nor  Phyllis  after  lying-in. 

Nine  spirits  of  blaspheming  fops 
With  aconite  anoint  his  chops  ; 

And  give  him  words  of  dreadful  sounds, 

G — d d — n his  blood  ! and  b — d and  w — ds  f 


DEATH  A HD  DAPHNE. 


579 


Thus  furnish’d  out,  he  sent  his  train 
To  take  a house  in  Warwick-lane  : 

The  faculty,  his  humble  friends, 

A complimental  message  sends  : 

Their  president  in  scarlet  gown 
Harangued,  and  welcomed  him  to  town* 
But  Death  had  business  to  despatch  j 
His  mind  was  running  on  his  match. 

And,  hearing  much  of  Daphne’s  fame* 

His  majesty  of  terrors  came, 

Fine  as  a colonel  of  the  guards, 

To  visit  where  she  sat  at  cards  : 

She,  as  she  came  into  the  room, 

Thought  him  Adonis  in  his  bloom. 

And  now  her  heart  with  pleasure  jumps  J 
She  scarce  remembers  what  is  trumps  ; 

For  such  a shape  of  skin  and  bone 
Was  never  seen  except  her  own  : 

Charm’d  with  his  eyes,  and  chin,  and  snoutj 
Her  pocket  glass  drew  slily  out ; 

And  grew  enamour’d  with  her  phiz. 

As  just  the  counterpart  of  his. 

She  darted  many  a private  glance, 

And  freely  made  the  first  advance  , 

Was  of  her  beauty  grown  so  vain, 

She  doubted  not  to  win  the  swain. 

Nothing  she  thought  could  sooner  gain  him 
Than  with  her  wit  to  entertain  him. 

She  ask’d  about  her  friends  below  ; 

This  meagre  fop,  that  batter’d  beau  ; 
Whether  some  late  departed  toasts 
Had  got  gallants  among  the  ghosts  ? 

If  Chloe  were  a sharper  still 
As  great  as  ever  at  quadrille  ? 

(The  ladies  there  must  needs  be  rooks, 

For  cards,  we  know,  are  Pluto’s  books) 

If  Florimel  had  found  her  love, 

For  whom  she  hang’d  herself  above? 

How  oft  a week  was  kept  a ball 
By  Proserpine  at  Pluto’s  hall? 

She  fancied  these  Elysian  shades 
The  sweetest  place  for  masquerades  : 

How  pleasant  on  the  banks  of  Styx, 

To  troll  it  in  a coach  and  six  ! 

What  pride  a female  heart  inflames  f 
How  endless  are  ambition’s  aims  ! 

Cease,  haughty  nymph  ; the  Fates  decree 
Deatn  must  not  be  a spouse  for  thee  : 

For,  when  by  chance  the  meagre  shade 
Upon  thy  hand  his  finger  laid, 


37  2 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


5 So 

Thy  hand  as  dry  and  cold  as  lead, 

His  matrimonial  spirit  fled  ; 

He  felt  about  his  heart  a damp, 

That  quite  extinguish’d  Cupid’s  lamp  J 
Away  the  frighted  spectre  scuds, 

And  leaves  my  lady  in  the  suds. 


DAPHNE. 

DAPHNE  knows,  with  equal  ease, 
How  to  vex  and  how  to  please  $ 
But  the  folly  of  her  sex 
Makes  her  sole  delight  to  vex. 

Never  woman  more  devised 
Surer  ways  to  be  despised  : 

Paradoxes  weakly  wielding, 

Always  conquer’d,  never  yielding. 

To  dispute  her  chief  delight, 

With  not  one  opinion  right : 

Thick  her  arguments  she  lays  on. 

And  with  cavils  combats  reason  ; 
Answers  in  decisive  way, 

Never  hears  what  you  can  say: 

Still  her  odd  perverseness  shows 
Chiefly  where  she  nothing  knows  ; 
And,  where  she  is  most  familiar, 
Always  peevisher  and  sillier: 

All  her  spirits  in  a flame 
When  she  knows  she’s  most  to  blames 
Send  me  hence  ten  thousand  miles, 
From  a face  that  always  smiles  : 

None  could  ever  act  that  part, 

But  a Fury  in  her  heart. 

Ye  who  hate  such  inconsistence, 

To  be  easy,  keep  your  distance  : 

Or  in  folly  still  befriend  her, 

But  have  no  concern  to  mend  her. 
Lose  not  time  to  contradict  her, 

Nor  endeavour  to  convict  her. 

Never  take  it  in  your  thought, 

That  she’ll  own,  or  cure  a fault. 

Into  contradiction  warm  her, 

Then,  perhaps,  you  may  reform  her  \ 
Only  take  this  rule  along, 

Always  to  advise  her  wrong  ; 

And  reprove  her  when  she’s  right ; 

She  may  then  grow  wise  for  spite. 

No — that  scheme  will  ne’er  succeed, 
She  has  better  learnt  her  creed  : 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  MARRIAGE. 


58, 

She’s  too  cunning  and  too  skilful 
When  to  yield,  and  when  be  wilful. 

Nature  holds  her  forth  two  mirrors, 

One  for  truth,  and  one  for  errors  : 

That  looks  hideous,  fierce  and  frightful  J 
This  is  flattering  and  delightful ; 

That  she  throws  away  as  foul ; 

Sits  by  this,  to  dress  her  soul. 

Thus  you  have  the  case  in  view, 

Daphne,  ’twixt  the  Dean  and  you, 

Heaven  forbid  he  should  despise  thee  t 
But  will  never  more  advise  thee. 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  MARRIAGE. 

ST; TATIS  SUAE  fifty-two, 

* A rich  divine  began  to  woo 
A handsome,  young,  imperious  girl, 

Nearly  related  to  an  earl. 

Her  parents  and  her  friends  consent  5 
The  couple  to  the  temple  went : 

They  first  invite  the  Cyprian  queen  ; 
•Twas  answer’d, ‘‘She  would  not  be  seen;11 
The  Graces  next,  and  all  the  Muses, 

Were  bid  in  form,  but  sent  excuses. 

Juno  attended  at  the  porch, 

With  farthing  candle  for  a torch  ; 

While  mistress  Iris  held  her  train, 

The  faded  bow  distilling  rain. 

Then  Hebe  came,  and  took  her  place, 

But  show’d  no  more  than  half  her  face. 

Whate’er  those  dire  forebodings  meant* 
In  mirth  the  wedding-day  was  spent ; 

The  wedding-day  you  take  me  right, 

I promise  nothing  for  the  night. 

The  bridegroom  drest  to  make  a figure* 
Assumes  an  artificial  vigour  ; 

A flourish’d  nightcap  on,  to  grace 
His  ruddy,  wrinkled,  smiling  face  : 

Like  the  faint  red  upon  a pippin, 

Half  wither’d  by  a winter’s  keeping. 

And  thus  set  out  this  happy  pair, 

The  swain  is  rich,  the  nymph  is  fair  ; 

But,  what  I gladly  would  forget, 

The  swain^is  old,  the  nymph  coquette. 
Both  from  the  goal  together  start ; 

Scarce  run  a step  before  they  part ; 

No  common  ligament  that  binds 
The  various  textures  of  their  minds  t 


55a 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


Their  thoughts  and  actions,  hopes  and  fear% 
Less  corresponding  than  their  years. 

Her  spouse  desires  his  coffee  soon. 

She  rises  to  her  tea  at  noon. 

While  he  goes  out  to  cheapen  books, 

She  at  the  glass  consults  her  looks  ; 

While  Betty’s  buzzing  in  her  ear, 

Lord,  what  a dress  these  parsons  wear  ! 

So  odd  a choice  how  could  she  make  1 
Wish'd  him  a colonel  for  her  sake. 

Then,  on  her  fingers'  ends,  she  counts, 

Exact,  to  what  his  age  amounts. 

The  Dean,  she  heard  her  uncle  say. 

Is  sixty  if  he  be  a day  ; 

His  ruddy  cheeks  are  no  disguise ; 

You  see  the  crow's  feet  round  his  eyes. 

At  one  she  rambles  to  the  shops, 

To  cheapen  tea,  and  talk  with  fops  ; 

Or  calls  a council  of  her  maids, 

And  tradesmen,  to  compare  brocades. 

Her  weighty  morning  business  o'er. 

Sits  down  to  dinner  just  at  four  ; 

Minds  nothing  that  is  done  or  said, 

Her  evening  work  so  fills  her  head. 

The  Dean,  who  used  to  dine  at  one, 

Is  mawkish,  and  his  stomach  gone  ; 

In  threadbare  gown,  would  scarce  a louse  liDldg 
Looks  like  the  chaplain  of  his  household  ; 
Beholds  her,  from  the  chaplain's  place, 

In  French  brocades,  and  Flanders  lace  ; 

He  wonders  what. employs  her  brain. 

But  never  asks,  or  asks  in  vain  ; 

His  mind  is  full  of  other  cares, 

And,  in  the  sneaking  parson's  airs. 

Computes  that  half  a parish  dues 
Will  hardly  find  his  wife  in  shoes. 

Canst  thou  imagine,  dull  divine, 

*Twill  gain  her  love,  to  make  her  fine : 

Hath  she  no  other  wants  beside  ? 

You  raise  desire,  as  well  as  pride, 

Enticing  coxcombs  to  adore, 

And  teach  her  to  despise  thee  more. 

If  in  her  coach  she’ll  condescend 
To  place  him  at  the  hinder  end, 

Her  hoop  is  hoist  above  his  nose, 

His  odious  gown  would  soil  her  clothes* 

And  drops  him  at  the  church,  Jo  pray. 

While  she  drives  on  to  see  the  play. 

He,  like  an  orderly  divine, 

Comes  home  a quarter  after  nine, 


\ 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  MARRIAGE. 


And  meets  her  hasting  to  the  ball : 

Her  chairmen  push  him  from  the  wall* 

He  enters  in,  and  walks  upstairs, 

And  calls  the  family  to  prayers  ; 

Then  goes  alone  to  take  his  rest 
In  bed,  where  he  can  spare  her  best. 

At  five  the  footmen  make  a din, 

Her  ladyship  is  just  come  in  ; 

The  masquerade  began  at  two, 

She  stole  away  with  much  ado  ; 

And-shall  be  chid  this  afternoon, 

For  leaving  company  so  soon  : 

She'll  say,  and  she  may  truly  say’t, 

She  can’t  abide  to  stay  out  late. 

But  now,  tho’  scarce  a twelvemonth  married. 
Poor  Lady  Jane  has  thrice  miscarried: 

The  cause,  alas,  is  quickly  guess’d  ; 

The  town  has  whisper’d  round  the  jest. 

Tuink  on  some  remedy  in  time, 

You  find  his  reverence  past  his  primes 
Already  dwindled  to  a lath ; 

No  other  way  but  try  the  bath. 

For  Venus,  rising  from  the  ocean, 

Infused  a strong  prolific  potion, 

That  mix’d  with  Acheloiis’  spring, 

The  horned  flood,  as  poets  sing, 

Who,  with  an  English  beauty  smitten, 

Ran  under-ground  from  Greece  to  Britain  ; 

The  genial  virtue  with  him  brought, 

And  gave  the  nymph  a plenteous  draught ; 
Then  fled,  and  left  his  horn  behind, 

For  husbands  past  their  youth  to  find  : 

The  nymph,  who  still  with  passion  burn’d, 

Was  to  a boiling  fountain  turn’d, 

Where  childless  wives  crowd  every  morn, 

To  drink  in  Acheloiis’  horn. 

And  here  the  father  often  gains 
That  title  by  another’s  pains. 

Hither,  though  much  against  the  grain, 

The  Dean  has  carried  Lady  Jane. 

He,  for  a while,  would  not  consent, 

But  vow’d  his  money  all  was  spent : 

His  money  spent ! a clownish  reason ! 

And  must  my  lady  slip  her  season  ? 

The  doctor,  with  a double  fee, 

Was  bribed  to  make  the  Dean  agree. 

Here  all  diversions  of  the  place 
Are  proper  in  my  lady’s  case  : 

With  which  she  patiently  complies, 

Merely  because  her  friends  advise  : 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


5S4 


His  money  and  her  time  employs 
In  music,  radii ng-rooms,  and  toys  ; 

Or  in  the  Cross-bath  seeks  an  heir, 

Since  others  oft  have  found  one  there  $ 
Where  if  the  Dean  by  chance  appears,  « 
It  shames  his  cassock  and  his  years. 

He  keeps  his  distance  in  the  gallery 
Till  banish’d  by  some  coxcomb’s  raillery  | 
For ’t would  his  character  expose 
To  bathe  among  the  belles  and  beaux. 

So  have  I seen,  within  a pen, 

Young  ducklings  foster’d  by  a hen  ; 

But,  when  let  out,  they  run  and  muddle^ 

As  instinct  leads  them,  in  a puddle  ; 

The  sober  hen,  not  born  to  swim, 

With  mournful  note  clucks  round  the  brim. 

The  Dean,  with  all  his  best  endeavour. 
Gets  not  an  heir,  but  gets  a fever. 

A victim  to  the  last  essays 
Of  vigour  in  dec!  ing  days, 

He  dies,  and  leaves  his  mourning  mate 
(What  could  he  less  ?)  his  whole  estate. 

The  widow  goes  through  all  her  forms  f 
New  lovers  now  will  come  in  swarms. 

O,  may  I see  her  soon  dispensing 
Her  favours  to  some  broken  ensign! 

Him  let  her  marry,  for  his  face, 

And  only  coat  of  tarnish’d  lace  ; 

To  turn  her  naked  out  of  doors, 

And  spend  her  jointure  on  his  whores ; 
But,  for  a parting  present,  leave  her 
A rooted  pox  to  last  for  ever  1 


THE  LADY'S  DRESSING-ROOM* 
1730- 

FIVE  hours  (and  who  can  do  it  less  in  5) 

By  haughty  Celia  spent  in  dressing  j 
The  goddess  from  her  chamber  issues, 
Array’d  in  lace,  brocades,  and  tissues. 

Strephon,  who  found  the  room  was  void^ 
And  Betty  otherwise  employ’d, 

Stole  in,  and  took  a strict  survey 
Of  all  the  litter  as  it  lay  : 

Whereof,  to  make  the  matter  clear, 

An  inventory  follows  here. 


THE  LADY'S  DRESSING-ROOM,  $8* 

And,  first,  a dirty  smock  appear’d, 

Beneath  the  armpits  well  besmear’d  : 

Strephon,  the  rogue,  display’d  it  wide* 

And  turn’d  it  round  on  every  side  : 

On  such  a point,  few  words  are  best, 

And  Strephon  bids  us  guess  the  rest ; 

But  swears,  how  damnably  the  men  lie 
In  calling  Celia  sweet  and  cleanly. 

Now  listen,  while  he  next  produces 
The  various  combs  for  various  uses  ; 

Fill’d  up  with  dirt,  so  closely  fixt, 

No  brush  could  force  a way  betwixt ; 

A paste  of  composition  rare, 

Sweat,  dandriff,  powder,  lead,  and  hair  ; 

A forehead  cloth  with  oil  upon’t, 

To  smooth  the  wrinkles  on  her  front: 

Here  alum- flower,  to  stop  the  steams 
Fxhaled  from  sour  unsavoury  streams  ; 

Tnere  night-gloves  made  of  Tripsey’s  hide^ 

Bequeath’d  by  Tripsey  when  she  died  ; 

With  puppy-water,  beauty’s  help, 

Distili’d  from  Tripsey’s  darling  whelp. 

FI  ere  gallipots  and  vials  placed, 

Some  fill’d  with  washes,  some  with  paste; 

Some  with  pomatums,  paints,  and  slops, 

And  ointments  good  for  scabby  chops. 

Hard  by  a filthy  basin  stands, 

Foul’d  with  the  scouring  of  her  hands: 

T ie  basin  takes  whatever  comes, 

T he  scrapings  from  her  teeth  and  gums, 

A nasty  compound  of  all  hues, 

For  here  she  spits,  and  here  she  spews. 

But,  oh  ! it  turn’d  poor  Strephon’s  bowels, 

W!  len  he  beheld  and  smelt  the  towelsr, 

Begumm’d,  bematter’d,  and  beslimed, 

With  dirt,  and  sweat,  and  ear-wax  grimed  ; 

No  object  Strephon’s  eye  escapes  ; 

Fler  petticoats  in  frowzy  heaps  ; 

Nor  be  the  handkerchiefs  forgot, 

All  varnish’d  o’er  with  snuff  and  snot. 

The  stockings  why  should  I expose, 

Stain’d  with  the  moisture  of  her  toes, 

Or  greasy  coifs,  or  pinners  reeking, 

Which  Celia  slept  at  least  a week  in  ? 

A pair  of  tweezers  next  he  found, 

To  pluck  her  brows  in  arches  round  ; 

Or  hairs  that  sink  the  forehead  low, 

Or  on  her  chin  like  bristles  grow. 

The  virtues  we  must  not  let  pass 
Of  Celia’s  magnifying-glass  ; 


586 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS, 


When  frighted  Strephon  cast  his  eye  on’t, 
It  show’d  the  visage  of  a giant ; 

A glass  that  can  to  sight  disclose 
The  smallest  worm  in  Celia’s  nose, 

,And  faithfully  direct  her  nail 
To  squeeze  it  out  from  head  to  tail  \ 

For,  catch  it  nicely  by  the  head, 

It  must  come  out,  alive  or  dead. 

Why,  Strephon,  will  you  tell  the  rest  ? 
And  must  you  needs  describe  the  chest  ? 
That  careless  wench  ; no  creature  warn  her 
To  move  it  out  from  yonder  corner  ! 

But  leave  it  standing  full  in  sight, 

F or  you  to  exercise  your  spite  ? 

In  vain  the  workman  show’d  his  wit* 

With  rings  and  hinges  counterfeit. 

To  make  it  seem  in  this  disguise 
A cabinet  to  vulgar  eyes  : 

Which  Strephon  ventured  to  look  In, 
Resolved  to  go  through  thick  and  thin. 

He  lifts  the  lid  ; there  needs  no  more* 

He  smelt  it  all  the  time  before. 

As,  from  within  Pandora’s  box 
When  Epimetheus  oped  the  locks* 

A sudden  universal  crew 
Of  human  evils  upward  Hew, 

He  still  was  comforted  to  find 
That  hope  at  last  remain’d  behind  : 

So  Strephon,  lifting  up  the  lid, 

To  view  what  in  the  chest  was  hid, 

The  vapours  flew  from  out  the  vent : 

But  Strephon,  cautious,  never  meant 
The  bottom  of  the  pan  to  grope, 

And  foul  his  hands  in  search  of  hope. 

O ! ne’er  may  such  a vile  machine 
Be  once  in  Celia’s  chamber  seen ! 

O ! may  she  better  learn  to  keep 
Those  “ secrets  of  the  hoary  deep.* 

As  mutton-cutlets,  prime  of  meat, 
Which,  though  with  art,  you  salt  and  beat* 
As  laws  of  cookery  require, 

And  roast  them  at  the  clearest  fire ; 

If  from  ad  own  the  hopeful  chops 
The  fat  upon  the  cinder  drops, 

To  stinking  smoke  it  turns  the  flame, 
Poisoning  the  flesh  from  whence  it  came^ 
And  up  exhales  a greasy  stench, 

For  which  you  curse  the  careless  wench  S 
So  things  which  must  not  be  exprest, 
When  plump'd  into  the  reeking  chest. 


CASSINUS  AND  PETER. 


Send  tip  an  excremental  smell 

To  taint  the  parts  from  whence  they  fell ; 

The  petticoats  and  gown  peri ume, 

And  waft  a stink  round  every  room. 

Thus  finishing  his  grand  survey, 

Disgusted  Strephon  stole  away  ; 

But  Vengeance,%oddess  never  sleeping, 

Soon  punish’d  Strephon  for  his  peeping: 

His  foul  imagination  links 

Each  dame  he  sees  with  all  her  stinks  ; 

And,  if  unsavoury  odours  fly, 

Conceives  a lady  standing  by. 

All  women  his  description  fits, 

And  both  ideas  jump  like  wits; 

By  vicious  fancy  coupled  fast, 

And  still  appearing  in  contrast. 

I pity^ wretched  Strephon.  blind 
To  all  the  charms  of  womankind. 

Should  I,  the  Queen  of  Love  refuse, 

Because  she  rose  from  stinking  oozef 
To  him  that  looks  behmd  the  scene, 

Statira’s  but  some  pocky  quean. 

When  Celia  all  her  glory  shows, 

If  Strephon  would  but  stop  his  nose, 

(Who  now  so  impiously  blasphemes 

Her  ointments,  daubs,  and  paints,  and  creams 

Her  washes,  slops,  and  every  clout, 

With  which  he  makes  so  foul  a rout ;) 
Hejsoon  will  learn  to  think  like  me, 

And  bless  his  ravish'd  eyes  to  see. 

Such  order  from  confusion  sprung, 

Such  gaudy  tulips  raised  from  dung. 


CASSINUS  AND  PETER* 

A TRAGICAL  ELEGY. 

1731- 

TWO  college  sophs  of  Cambridge  growth! 

Both  special  wits,  and  lovers  both, 
Conferring  as  they  used  to  meet 
On  love,  and  books,  and  rapture  sweet ; 
(Muse,  find  me  names  to  fit  my  metre. 
Cassinus  this,  and  t’other  Peter.) 

Friend  Peter  to  Cassinus  goes, 

To  chat  a while,  and  warm  his  nose ; 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


But  such  a sight  was  never  seen, 

The  lad  lay  swallow’d  up  in  spleen. 

He  seem’d  as  just  crept  out  of  bed; 

One  greasy  stocking  round  his  head, 

The  other  he  sat  down  to  darn, 

With  threads  of  different-col^ur’d  yarn  ; 
His  breeches  torn,  exposing  wide 
A ragged  shirt  and  tawny  hide. 

Scorch’d  were  his  shins,  his  legs  were  baro^ 
But  well  embrown’d  with  dirt  and  hair. 

A rug  was  o’er  his  shoulders  thrown, 

(A  rug,  for  nightgown  he  had  none) 

His  jordan  stood  in  manner  fitting 
Between  his  legs,  to  spew  or  spit  in  ; 

His  ancient  pipe,  in  sable  dyed, 

And  half  unsmoked,  lay  by  his  side. 

Him  thus  accoutred  Peter  found, 

With  eyes  in  smoke  and  weeping  drown’d} 
The  leavings  of  his  last  night’s  pot 
On  embers  placed,  to  drink  it  hot. 

“ Why,  Cassy,  thou  wilt  dose  thy  pate  ! 
What  makes  thee  lie  abed  so  late  ? 

The  finch,  the  linnet,  and  the  thrush. 

Their  , matins  chant  in  every  bush  ; 

And  I have  heard  thee  oft  salute 
Aurora  with  thy  early  flute. 

Heaven  send  thou  hast  not  got  the  hyps  f 
How  ! not  a word  come  from  thy  lips?” 
Then  gave  him  some  familiar  thumps  ; 

A college  joke,  to  cure  the  dumps. 

The  swain  at  last,  with  grief  opprest, 
Cried,  “ Celia  1”  thrice,  and  sigh’d  the  rest* 

“ Dear  Cassy,  though  to  ask  I dread, 

Yet  ask  I must— is  Celia  dead  ?” 

“ How  happy  I,  were  that  the  worst, 

But  I was  fated  to  be  curst  !” 

46  Come,  tell  us,  has  she  play’d  the  whore 
iC  O,  Peter,  would  it  were  no  more  !” 

* Why,  plague  confound  her  sandy  locks! 
Say,  has  the  small  or  greater  pox 
Sunk  down  her  nose,  or  seam’d  her  face? 
Be  easy,’tis  a common  case.” 

€i  O,  Peter,  beauty’s  but  a varnish, 

Which  time  and  accidents  will  tarnish  } 

But  Celia  has  contrived  to  blast 
Those  beauties  that  might  ever  last. 

Nor  can  imagination  guess 
Nor  eloquence  divine  express, 

How  that  ungrateful  charming  maid 
My  purest  passion  has  betray’d  ; 


CASSINUS  AND  PETER. 


589 


Conceive  the  most  envenom'd  dart 
To  pierce  an  injured  lover's  heart." 

* Why,  hang  her;  though  she  seem  so  coy, 

1 know  she  loves  the  barber's  bov." 

u Friend  Peter,  this  I could  excuse. 

For  every  nymph  has  leave  to  choose  ; 
Nor  have  I reason  to  complain  ; 

She  loves  a more  deserving  swain. 

But,  oh  ! how  ill  hast  thou  divined 
A crime,  that  shocks  all  humankind  5 
A deed  unknown  to  female  race. 

At  which  the  sun  should  hide  his  face : 
Advice  in  vain  you  would  apply — 

Then  leave  me  to  despair  and  die. 

Ye  kind  Arcadians,  on  my  urn 
These  elegies  and  sonnets  burn  ; 

And  on  the  marble  grave  these  rhymes 
A monument  to  aftertimes — 

4 Here  Cassy  lies,  by  Celia  slain, 

And  dying  never  told  his  pain.' 

Vain  empty  world,  farewell ! But  hark, 
The  loud  Cerberean  triple  bark  : 

And  there— behold  Alecto  stand, 

A whip  of  scorpions  in  her  hand  : 

Lo,  Charon,  from  his  leaky  wherry 
Beckoning  to  waft  me  o'er  the  ferry. 

I come ! I come  ! Medusa  see 
Her  serpents'  hiss  direct  at  me. 

Begone  ; unhand  me,  hellish  fry  : 

* Avaunt — ye  cannot  say  'tis  IJ  " 

“ Dear  Cassy,  thou  must  purge  and  bleed  f 
I fear  thou  wilt  be  mad  indeed, 

But  now,  by  friendship's  sacred  laws, 

I here  conjure  thee,  tell  the  cause  ; 

And  Celia's  horrid  fact  relate  : 

Thy  friend  would  gladly  share  thy  fate. 

To  force  it  out,  my  heart  must  rend  5 
Yet  when  conjured  by  such  a friend — 
Think,  Peter,  how  my  soul  is  rack'd  ! 

These  eyes,  these  eyes,  beheld  the  fact 
Now  bend  thine  ear,  since  out  it  must : 

But,  when  thou  seest  me  laid  in  dust, 

The  secret  thou  shalt  ne'er  impart, 

Not  to  the  nymph  that  keeps  thy  heart; 
(How  would  her  virgin  soul  bemoan 
A crime  to  all  her  sex  unknown !) 

Nor  whisper  to  the  tattling  reeds 
The  blackest  of  all  female  deeds  ; 

Nor  blab  it  on  the  lonely  rocks, 

Where  Echo  sits, and  listening  mocks; 


59C 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


Nor  let  the  Zephyr’s  trench erous  gale 
Through  Cambridge  waft  the  direful  tale| 
Nor  to  the  chattering  feather’d  race 
Discover  Celia’s  foul  disgrace. 

But,  if  you  fail,  my  spectre  dread, 
Attending  nightly  round  your  bed-« 

And  yet  I dare  confide  in  you ; 

So  take  my  secret,  and  adieu. 

* • # • © 


A BEAUTIFUL  YOUNG  NYMPH  GOING  TO  BED. 

WRITTEN  FOR  THE  HONOUR  OF  THE  FAIR  SEX* 

CORINNA,  pride  of  Drury-Iane, 

For  whom  no  shepherd  sighs  in  vainj 
Never  did  Covent-garden  boast 
So  bright  a batter’d  strolling  toast  I 
No  drunken  rake  to  pick  her  up  ; 

No  cellar  where  on  tick  to  sup  ; 

Returning  at  the  midnight  hour, 

P'our  stories  climbing  to  her  bower ; 

Then,  seated  on  a three-legg’d  chair, 

Takes  off  her  artificial  hair  ; 

Now  picking  out  a crystal  eye, 

She  wipes  it  clean  and  lays  it  by. 

Her  eyebrows  from  a mouse’s  hide 
Stuck  on  with  art  on  either  side, 

Pulls  off  with  care,  and  first  displays  ’eiB, 

Then  in  a play-book  smoothly  lays  ’em. 

Now  dextrously  her  plumpers  dra>vs, 

That  serve  to  fill  her  hollow  jaws, 

Untwists  a wire,  and  from  her  gums 
A set  of  teeth  completely  comes  ; 

Pulls  out  the  rags  contrived  to  prop 
Her  flabby  dugs,  and  down  they  drop. 

Proceeding  on,  the  lovely  goddess 
Unlaces  next  her  steel-ribb’d  bodice, 

Which,  by  the  operator’s  skill, 

Press  down  the  lumps,  the  hollows  fill. 

Up  goes  her  hand,  and  off  she  slips 
The  bolsters  that  supply  her  hips  ; 

With  gentlest  touch  she  netft  explores 
Her  shankers,  issues,  running  sores  ; 

Effects  of  many  a sad  disaster, 

And  then  to  each  applies  a plaster ; 

But  must,  before  she  goes  to  bed, 

Rub  off  the  daubs  ol  white  and  r rl, 


ON  A YOUNG  NYMPH  GOING  TO  BEIK 


And  smooth  the  furrows  in  her  front 
With  greasy  paper  stuck  upon’t. 

She  takes  a bolus  ere  she  sleeps  ; 

And  then  between  two  blankets  creeps. 

With  pains  of  love  tormented  lies  ; 

* Or,  if  she  chance  to  close  her  eyes. 

Of  Bridewell  and  the  Compter  dreamy 
And  feels  the  lash,  and  faintly  screams  | 

Or,  by  a faithless  bully  drawn, 

At  some  hedge-tavern  lies  in  pawn  f 
Or  to  Jamaica  seems  transported 
Alone,  and  by  no  planter  courted  % 

Or,  near  Fleet-ditch’s  oozy  brinks, 
Surrounded  with  a hundred  stinks, 

Belated,  seems  on  watch  to  lie, 

And  snap  some  cully  passing  by ; 

Or,  struck  with  fear,  her  fancy  runs 
On  watchmen,  constables,  and  duns, 

From  whom  she  meets  with  frequent  rub$| 
But  never  from  religious  clubs, 

Whose  favour  she  is  sure  to  find. 

Because  she  pays  them  all  in  kind. 

Corinna  wakes.  A dreadful  sight  I 
Behold  the  ruins  of  the  night  ! 

A wicked  rat  her  plaster  stole, 

Half  eat,  and  dragg’d  it  to  his  hole. 

The  crystal  eye,  alas  ! was  miss’d  ; 

And  puss  had  on  her  plumpers  p — ssM. 

A pigeon  pick’d  her  issue-peas  ; 

And  Shock  her  tresses  fill’d  with  fleas. 

The  nymph,  though  in  this  mangled  plighfc 
Must  every  morn  her  limbs  unite. 

But  how  shall  I describe  her  arts 
To  re-collect  the  scatter’d  parts  ? 

Or  show  the  anguish,  toil,  and  paiOf 
Of  gathering  up  herself  again? 

The  bashful  Muse  will  never  bear 
In  such  a scene  to  interfere. 

Corinna,  in  the  morning  dizen’d. 

Who  sees,  will  spew ; who  smells,  be  poiso&’dL 


STREPHON  AND  CHLOHL 
i73i* 

OF  Chloe  all  the  town  has  rung^ 
By  every  size  of  poets  sung  : 

So  beautiful  a nymph  appears 
But  once  in  twenty  thousand  yean  | 


<9* 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


By  Nature  form’d  with  nicest  care. 

And  faultless  to  a single  hair. 

Her  graceful  mien,  her  shape,  and  face, 
Confess’d  her  of  no  mortal  race  : 

And  then  so  nice,  and  so  genteel ; 

Such  cleanliness  from  head  to  heel ; 

No  humours  gross,  or  frowsy  steams, 

No  noisome  whiffs,  or  sweaty  streams. 

Before,  behind,  above,  below, 

Could  from  her  taintless  body  flow  ; 

Would  so  discreetly  things  dispose, 

None  ever  saw  her  pluck  a rose. 

Her  dearest  comrades  never  caught  her 
Squat  on  her  hams  to  make  maid’s  water. 
You’d  swear  that  so  divine  a creature 
Felt  no  necessities  of  nature. 

In  summer  had  she  walk’d  the  town, 

Her  arm-pits  would  not  stain  her  gown  : 

At  country-dances  not  a nose 
Could  in  the  dog-days  smell  her  toes. 

Her  milk-white  hands,  both  palms  and  back$ 
Like  ivory  dry,  and  soft  as  wax. 

Her  hands,  the  softest  ever  felt, 

Though  cold  would  burn,  though  dry  would  meli 
Dear  Venus,  hide  this  wondrous  maid, 

Nor  let  her  loose  to  spoil  your  tirade. 

While  she  engrosses  every  swain, 

You  but  o’er  half  the  world  can  reign. 

Think  what  a case  all  men  are  now  in, 

What  ogling,  sighing,  toasting,  vowing  ! 

What  powder’d  wigs ! what  flames  and  dartsl 
What  hampers  full  of  bleeding  hearts  ! 

What  sword-knots  1 what  poetic  strains  1 
What  billets-doux,  and  clouded  canes  ! 

But  Strephon  sigh’d  so  loud  and  strong, 

He  blew  a settlement  along  ; 

And  bravely  drove  his  rivals  down 
With  coach  and  six,  and  house  in  town. 

The  bashful  nymph  no  more  withstands. 
Because  her  dear  papa  commands. 

The  charming  couple  now  unites  : 

Proceed  we  to  the  marriage  rites. 

Imprimis , at  the  temple- porch 
Stood  Hymen  with  a flaming  torch ; 

The  smiling  Cyprian  Goddess  brings 
Her  infant  loves  with  purple  wings  ; 

And  pigeons  billing,  sparrows  treading* 

Fair  emblems  of  a fruitful  wedding. 

The  Muses  next  in  order  follow, 

Conducted  by  their  squire  Apollo  ; 


STREPIION  AND  CHIOS. 


m 


Then  Mercury  with  silver  tongue  ; 

And  Heb<i,,  goddess  ever  young. 

Behold,  the  bridegroom  and  his  bride, 

Walk  hand  in  hand,  and  side  by  side  ; 

She  by  the  tender  Graces  drest, 

But  he,  by  Mars,  in  scarlet  vest. 

The  nymph  was  cover’d  with  her 
And  Phoebus  sung  th’  epithalamium. 

And  last,  to  make  the  matter  sure, 

Dame  Juno  brought  a priest  demure. 

Luna  was  absent,  on  pretence 
Her  time  was  not  till  nine  months  hence. 
The  rites  perform’d,  the  parson  paid, 

In  state  return’d  the  grand  parade  ; 

With  loud  huzzas  from  all  the  boys, 

That  now  the  pair  must  crown  their  joya* 

But  still  the  hardest  part  remains  : 
Strephon  had  long  perplex’d  his  brains. 

How  with  so  high  a nymph  he  might 
Demean  himself  the  wedding-night ; 

For,  as  he  view’d  his  person  round, 

Mere  mortal  flesh  was  all  he  found  ; 

His  hand,  his  neck,  his  mouth,  and  feet, 

Were  duly  wash’d,  to  keep  them  sweet ; 

With  other  parts,  that  shall  be  nameless, 

The  ladies  else  might  think  me  shameless. 
The  weather  and  his  love  were  hot ; 

And  should  he  struggle,  I know  what — 

Why  let  it  go,  if  I must  tell  it— 

He’ll  sweat,  and  then  the  nymph  may  smell  Mg 
While  she,  a goddess  dyed  in  grain, 

Was  unsusceptible  of  stain, 

And,  Venus-like,  her  fragrant  skin 
Exhaled  ambrosia  from  within. 

Can  such  a deity  endure 
A mortal  human  touch  impure  ? 

How  did  the  humbled  swain  detest 
His  prickly  beard,  and  hairy  breast ; 

His  nightcap,  border’d  round  with  lac^fc 
Could  give  no  softness  to  his  face. 

Yet,  if  the  goddess  could  be  kind, 

What  endless  raptures  must  he  findl 
And  goddesses  have  now  and  then 
Come  down  to  visit  mortal  men  ; 

To  visit  and  to  court  them  too  : 

A certain  goddess,  God  knows  who, 

(As  in  a book  he  heard  it  read) 

Took  Colonel  Peleus  to  her  bed. 

But  what  if  he  should  lose  his  liie 
By  venturing  on  his  heavenly  wiie  I 


3* 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 

(For  Strephon  could  remember  well, 
That  once  he  heard  a school-boy  tell, 
How  Semele,  of  mortal  race, 

By  thunder  died  in  Jove’s  embrace.) 
And  what  if  daring  Strephon  dies 
By  lightning  shot  from  Chloe’s  eyes  ! 

While  these  reflections  fill’d  his  head. 
The  bride  was  put  in  form  to  bed  : 

He  followed,  stript,  and  in  he  crept. 

But  awfully  his  distance  kept. 

Now  “ ponder  well,  ye  parents  dear  ? 
Forbid  your  daughters  guzzling  beer, 
And  make  them  every  afternoon 
Forbear  their  tea,  or  drink  it  soon 
That  ere  to  bed  they  venture  up, 

They  may  discharge  it  every  sup; 

If  not  they  must  in  evil  plight 
Be  often  forced  to  rise  at  night. 

Keep  them  to  wholesome  food  confined. 
Nor  let  them  taste  what  causes  wind : 
*Tis  this  the  sage  of  Samos  means, 
Forbidding  his  disciples  beans. 

O ! think  what  evils. must  ensue  ; 

Miss  Moll  the  jade  will  burn  it  blue  ; 
And,  when  she  once  has  got  the  art; 

She  cannot  help  it  for  her  heart ; 

But  out  it  flies,  even  when  she  meets 
Her  bridegroom  in  the  wedding-sheets 
Carminative  and  diuretic 
Will  damp  all  passion  sympathetic ; 

And  Love  such  nicety  requires, 

One  blast  will  put  out  all  his  fires. 

Since  husbands  get  behind  the  scene. 
The  wife  should  study  to  be  clean  ; 

Nor  give  the  smallest  room  to  guess 
The  time  when  wants  of  nature  press  ; 
But  after  marriage  practise  more 
Decorum  than  she  did  before  ; 

To  keep  her  spouse  deluded  still, 

And  make  him  fancy  what  she  will. 

In  bed  we  left  the  married  pair  : 
fTis  time  to  show  how  things  went  then* 
Strephon,  who  had  been  often  told 
That  fortune  still  assists  the  bold, 
Resolved  to  make  the  first  attack; 

But  Chloe  drove  him  fiercely  bade 
How  could  a nymph  so  chaste  as  Chlo* 
With  constitution  cold  and  snowy, 
Permit  a brutish  man  to  touch  her  ? 
Even  lambs  by  instinct  fly  the  butcher. 


STREPHON  AND  CHLOE . 


595 


Resistance  on  the  wedding-night 
Is  what  our  maidens  claim  by  right : 

And  Chloe,  ’tis  by  all  agreed, 

Was  maid  in  thought,  in  word,  and  deed. 
Yet  some  assign  a different  reason  ; 

That  Streplion  chose  no  proper  season. 

Say,  fair  ones,  must  I make  a pause, 

Or  freely  tell  the  secret  cause  ? 

Twelve  cups  of  tea  (with  grief  I speak) 
Had  now  constrain'd  the  nymph  to  leak. 
This  point  must  needs  be  settled  fl rst : 

The  bride  must  either  void  or  burst. 

Then  see  the  dire  effects  of  pease  ; 

Think  what  can  give  the  colic  ease. 

The  nymph  oppress'd  before,  behind, 

As  ships  are  toss’d  by  waves  and  wind, 
Steals  out  her  hand,  by  nature  led, 

And  brings  a vessel  into  bed  ; 

Fair  utensil,  as  smooth  and  white 
As  Chloe’s  skin,  almost  as  bright. 

Strephon,  who  heard  the  fuming  rill 
As  from  a mossy  cliff  distil. 

Cry  'd  out,  Ye  gods  ! what  sound  is  this  ? 

Can  Chloe,  heavenly  Chloe, ? 

But  when  he  smelt  a noisome  steam, 

Which  oft  attends  that  lukewarm  stream  : 
(Salerno  both  together  joins, 

As  sovereign  medicines  for  the  loins)  ; 

And  though  contrived,  we  may  suppose. 

To  slip  his  ears,  yet  struck  his  nose  : 

He  found  her  while  the  scent  increased. 

As  mortal  as  himself  at  least. 

But  soon,  with  like  occasions  press’d, 

He  boldly  sent  his  hand  in  quest 
(Inspired  with  courage  from  his  bride) 

To  reach  the  pot  on  t'other  side  : 

And,  as  he  fill'd  the  reeking  vase, 

Let  fly  a rouser  in  her  face. 

The  little  Cupids  hovering  round, 

(As  pictures  prove  with  garlands  crown’d) 
Abash'd  at  what  they  saw  and  heard, 

Flew  off,  nor  ever  more  appear’d. 

Adieu  to  ravishing  delights, 

High  raptures,  and  romantic  flights  ; 

To  goddesses  so  heavenly  sweet, 

Expiring  shepherds  at  their  feet ; 

To  silver  meads  and  shady  bowers, 

Dress'd  up  with  amaranthine  flowers. 

How  great  a change  ! how  quickly  made  f 
They  learn  to  call  a spade  a spade. 


38— * 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


5$S 

They  soon  from  all  constraint  are  freed  | 

Can  see  each  other  do  their  need. 

On  box  of  cedar  sits  the  wife, 

And  makes  it  warm  for  dearest  life ; 

And.  by  the  beastly  way  of  thinking, 

Find  great  society  in  stinking. 

Now  Strephon  daily  entertains 
His  Chloe  in  the  homeliest  strains  ; 

And  Chloe,  more  experienced  grown. 

With  interest  pays  him  back  his  own* 

No  maid  at  court  is  less  ashamed 
Howe’er  for  selling  bargains  famed, 

Than  she  to  name  her  parts  behind, 

Or  when  abed  to  let  out  wind. 

Fair  Decency,  celestial  maid  ! 

Descend  from  Heaven  to  Beauty’s  aid  I 
Though  Beauty  may  beget  desire, 

*Tis  thou  must  fan  the  lover’s  fire  : 

For  Beauty,  like  supreme  dominion, 

Is  best  supported  by  Opinion  : 

If  Decency  bring  no  supplies, 

Opinion  falls,  and  Beauty  dies. 

To  see  some  radiant  nymph  appear 
In  all  her  glittering  birthday  gear, 

You  think  some  goddess  from  the  sky 
Descended,  ready  cut  and  dry  : 

But,  ere  you  sell  yourself  to  laughter, 
Consider  well  what  may  come  after ; 

For  fine  ideas  vanish  fast, 

While  all  the  gross  and  filthy  last, 

O Strephon,  ere  that  fatal  day 
When  Chloe  stole  your  heart  away, 

Had  you  but  through  a cranny  spied 
On  house  of  ease  your  future  bride, 

In  all  the  postures  of  her  face, 

Which  nature  gives  in  such  a case  ; 
Distortions,  groanings,  strainings,  heaving% 
*Twere  better  you  had  lick’d  her  leavings, 
Than  from  experience  find  too  late 
Your  goddess  grown  a filthy  mate. 

Your  fancy  then  had  always  dwelt 
On  what  you  saw  and  what  you  smelt  f 
Would  still  the  same  ideas  give  ye, 

As  when  you  spied  her  on  the  privy  ; 

And,  spite  of  Chloe’s  charms  divine, 

Your  heart  had  been  as  whole  as  mine* 
Authorities,  both  old  and  recent, 

Direct  that  women  must  be  decent  ; 

And  from  the  spouse  each  blemish  hidCfc 
More  than  from  all  the  world  beside. 


STREPHON  AND  CHLOE. 


£97 


Unjustly  all  our  nymphs  complain 
Their  empire  holds  so  short  a reign ; 

Is,  after  many  age,  lost  so  soon, 

It  hardly  holds  the  honeymoon : * 

For,  if  they  keep  not  what  they  caught* 

It  is  entirely  their  own  fault. 

They  take  possession  of  the  crown, 

And  then  throw  all  their  weapons  down  : 
Though  by  the  politician’s  scheme. 

Whoe’er  arrives  at  power  supreme, 

Those  arts,  by  which  at  first  they  gain  it, 
They  still  must  practise  to  maintain  it 
What  various  ways  our  females  take 
To  pass  for  wits  before  a rake  ! 

And  in  the  fruitless  search  pursue 
All  other  methods  but  the  true  ! 

Some  try  to  learn  polite  behaviour 
By  reading  books  against  their  Saviour  $ 
Some  call  it  witty  to  reflect 
On  every  natural  defect ; 

Some  show  they  never  want  explaining 
To  comprehend  a double  meaning. 

But  sure  a tell-tale  out  of  school 
Is  of  all  wits  the  greatest  fool ; 

Whose  rank  imagination  fills 
Her  heart,  and  from  her  lips  distils  ; 

You’d  think  she  utter’d  from  behind, 

Or  at  her  mouth  was  breaking  windL 
Why  is  a handsome  wife  adored 
By  every  coxcomb  but  her  lord  ? 

From  yonder  puppet-man  inquire, 

Who  wisely  hides  his  wood  and  wire l 
Shows  Sheba’s  queen  completely  drest, 

And  Solomon  in  royal  vest : 

But  view  them  litter’d  on  the  floor, 

Or  strung  on  pegs  behind  the  door  ; 

Punch  is  exactly  of  a piece 
With  Lorraine’s  duke,  and  prince  of  Greece 
A prudent  builder  should  forecast 
How  long  the  stuff  is  like  to  last ; 

And  carefully  observe  the  ground. 

To  build  on  some  foundation  sound. 

What  house,  when  its  materials  crumble* 
Must  not  inevitably  tumble  ? 

What  edifice  can  long  endure 
Raised  on  a basis  unsecure  ? 

Rash  mortals,  ere  you  take  a wife, 

Contrive  your  pile  to  last  for  life  : 

Since  beauty  scarce  endures  a day. 

And  youth  so  swiftly  glides  away  ; 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


59®  » 


Why  will  you  make  yourself  a bubble, 
To  build  on  sand  with  hay  and  stubble# 
On  sense  and  wit  your  passion  found* 
By  decency  cemented  round  ; 

Let  prudence  with  good  nature  strive^ 

To  keep  esteem  and  love  alive. 

Then,  come  old  age  whene’er  it  will* 
Your  friendship  shall  continue  still} 

And  thus  a mutual  gentle  fire 

Shall  never  but  with  life  expire* 


THE  DEAN’S  MANNER  OF  LIVING, 


Upon  a chick  and  pint  of  win& 
On  rainy  days  I dine  alone, 

And  pick  my  chicken  to  the  bone  : 

But  this  my  servants  much  enrages, 

No  scraps  remain  to  save  board  wages® 
In  weather  fine  I nothing  spend, 

But  often  sponge  upon  a friend  : 

Yet,  where’s  he’s  not  so  rich  as  I, 

I pay  my  club,  and  so  good  bye* 


ON  THE  DEATH  OF  DR.  SWIFT. 

WRITTEN  IN  NOVEMBER,  173I. 


Occasioned  by  reading  the  following  Maxim  in  RoCHEFOTTCAULT, 
Dans  Vadversite  de  nos  meilleurs  anus,  nous  trouvons  ton  jours  guelqut 
chose,  qui  ne  nous  do  plait  pas . 


S Rochefoucault  his  maxims  drew 


From  nature,  I believe  them  true! 
They  argue  no  corrupted  mind 
In  him  ; the  fault  is  in  mankind. 

This  maxim  more  than  all  the  rest 
Is  thought  too  base  for  human  breast  X 
€i  In  all  distresses  of  our  friends, 

We  first  consult  our  private  ends  ; 

While  Nature  kindly  bent  to  ease  us, 

Points  out  some  circumstance  to  please  US»* 
If  this  perhaps  your  patience  move^ 

Let  reason  and  experience  prove* 


N rainy  days  alone  I dine 


ON  THE  DEA  TH  OF  DR.  SWIFT* 


599 


We  all  behold  with  envious  eyes 
Our  equals  raised  above  our  size. 

Who  would  not  at  a crowded  show 
Stand  high  himself,  keep  others  low? 

I love  my  friend  as  well  as  you  : 

But  why  should  he  obstruct  my  view? 
Then  let  me  have  the  higher  post: 
Suppose  it  but  an  inch  at  most. 

If  in  a battle  you  should  find 
One  whom  you  love  of  all  mankind* 

Had  some  heroic  action  done, 

A champion  kill’d,  or  trophy  won  ; 
Rather  than  thus  be  overtopp’d, 

Would  you  not  wish  his  laurels  cropp’d? 
Dear  honest  Ned  is  in  the  gout, 

Lies  rack’d  with  pain,  and  you  without  l 
How  patiently  you  hear  him  groan  ! 

How  glad  the  case  is  not  your  own  ! 

What  poet  would  not  grieve  to  see 
His  brother  write  as  well  as  he  ? 

But  rather  than  they  should  excel, 

Would  wish  his  rivals  all  in  Hell  ? 7 

Her  end  when  Emulation  misses, 

She  turns  to  Envy  ; stings,  and  hisses  5 
The  strongest  friendship  yields  to  pridflfc 
Unless  the  odds  be  on  our  side. 

Vain  humankind  ! fantastic  race  ! 

Thy  various  follies  who  can  trace? 
Self-love,  ambition,  envy,  pride, 

Their  empire  in  our  hearts  divide. 

Give  others  riches,  power,  and  station, 
;Tis  all  on  me  a usurpation. 

I have  no  title  to  aspire  ; 

Yet,  when  you  sink,  I seem  the  higher 
In  Pope  I cannot  read  a line, 

But  with  a sigh  I wish  it  mine ; 

When  he  can  in  one  couplet  fix 
More  sense  than  I can  do  in  six; 

It  gives  me  such  a jealous  fit, 

| cry,  “ Pox  take  him  and  his  wit  f* 

I grieve  to  be  outdone  by  Gay 
In  my  own  humorous  biting  way. 
Arbuthnot  is  no  more  my  friend. 

Who  dares  to  irony  pretend, 

Which  1 was  born  to  introduce, 

Refined  it  first,  and  show’d  its  use. 

St.  John,  as  well  as  Pulteney,  knows 
That  I had  some  repute  for  prose  ; 

And,  till  they  drove  me  out  of  date* 
Could  maul  a minister  of  state. 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


If  they  have  mortified  my  pride, 

And  made  me  throw  my  pen  aside  ; 

If  with  such  talents  Heaven  has  bless'dem,* 
Have  I not  reason  to  detest  ’em  ? 

To  all  my  foes,  dear  Fortune,  send 
Thy  gifts  ; but  never  to  my  friend  : 

I tamely  can  endure  the  first  ; 

But  this  with  envy  makes  me  burst. 

Thus  much  may  serve  by  way  of  proem  J 
Proceed  we  therefore  to  our  poem. 

The  time  is  not  remote,  when  I 
Must  by  the  course  of  nature  die  ; 

When,  I foresee,  my  special  friend3 
Will  try  to  find  their  private  ends  : 

And  though  ’tis  hardly  understood 
Which  way  my  death  can  do  them  good. 
Yet  thus,  methinks,  I hear  them  speak : 
“See,  how  the  Dean  begins  to  break  1 
Poor  gentleman,  he  droops  apace ; 

You  plainly  find  it  in  his  face. 

That  old  vertigo  in  his  head 
Will  never  leave  him,  till  he's  dead 
Besides,  his  memory  decays  : 

He  recollects  not  what  he  says  ; 

He  cannot  call  his  friends  to  mind  : 

Forgets  the  place  where  last  he  dined j 
Plies  you  with  stories  o’er  and  o’er ; 

He  told  them  fifty  times  before. 

How  does  he  fancy  we  can  sit 
To  hear  his  out-of-fashion  wit? 

But  he  takes  up  with  younger  folks, 

Who  for  his  wine  will  bear  his  jokes. 

'Faith  ! he  must  make  his  stories  shorter. 
Or  change  his  comrades  once  a quarter: 

In  half  the  time  he  talks  them  round, 

There  must  another  set  be  found. 

“For  poetry  he’s  past  his  prime  : 

He  takes  an  hour  to  find  a rhyme  * 

His  fire  is  out,  his  wit  decay’d, 

His  fancy  sunk,  his  Muse  a jade. 

I’d  have  him  throw  away  his  pen  ; — 

But  there’s  no  talking  to  some  men  !* 

And  then  their  tenderness  appears 
By  adding  largely  to  my  years  ; 

“He’s  older  than  he  would  be  reckon’d, 
And  well  remembers  Charles  the  Second. 
He  hardly  drinks  a pint  of  wine  : 

And  that,  I doubt,  is  no  good  sign. 

His  stomach  too  begins  to  fail  : 

Last  year  we  thought  him  strong  and  hale  j 


ON  THE  DEATH  OFF*?.  SWIFT. 


Cot 


But  now  he’s  quite  another  thing : 

I wish  he  may  hold  out  till  spring  F* 

They  hug  themselves,  and  reason  thus  : 

“ It  is  not  yet  so  bad  with  us  !” 

In  such  a case,  they  talk  in  tropes, 

And  by  their  fears  express  their  hopes. 

Some  great  misfortune  to  portend, 

No  enemy  can  match  a friend. 

With  all  the  kindness  they  profess, 

The  merit  of  a lucky  guess 

(When  daily  howd’ye’s  come  of  course, 

And  servants  answer  “ Worse  and  worse  !”) 
Would  please  them  better,  than  to  tell 
That,  “ God  be  praised,  the  Dean  is  well.* 
Then  he,  who  prophesied  the  best, 

Approves  his  foresight  to  the  rest  : 

“ You  know  I always  fear’d  the  worst, 

And  often  told  you  so  at  first.” 

He’d  rather  choose  that  I should  die, 

Than  his  predictions  prove  a lie. 

Not  one  foretells  I shall  recover; 

But  all  agree  to  give  me  over. 

Yet,  should  some  neighbour  feel  a pain 
Just  in  the  parts  where  I complain  ; 

How  many  a message  would  he  send  ! 

What  hearty  prayers  that  I should  mend  t 
Inquire  what  regimen  I kept ; 

What  gave  me  ease  and  how  I slept  ? 

And  more  lament  when  I was  dead, 

Than  all  the  snivellers  round  my  bed. 

My  good  companions,  never  fear  ; 

For  though  you  may  mistake  a year, 

Though  your  prognostics  run  too  fast, 

They  must  be  verified  at  last. 

Behold  the  fatal  day  arrive  ! 
u How  is  the  Dean  ?” — “ He’s  just  alive* 
Now  the  departing  prayer  is  read  ; 

**He  hardly  breathes” — “The  Dean  is  dead.* 
Before  the  passing  bell  begun, 

The  news  through  half  the  town  is  run. 
il  O ! may  we  all  for  death  prepare  ! 

What  has  he  left?  and  who’s  his  heir? 

I know  no  more  than  what  the  news  is  J 
’Tis  all  bequeath’d  to  public  uses. 

To  public  uses  ! there’s  a whim  ! 

What  had  the  public  done  for  him? 

Mere  envy,  avarice,  and  pride  : 

He  gave  it  all— but  first  he  died. 

And  had  the  Dean,  in  all  the  nation. 

No  worthy  friend,  no  poor  relation? 


DEAIf'SWIFrS  WORKS* 


So  ready  to  do  strangers  good, 

Forgetting  his  own  flesh  and  blood  !* 

Now  Grub-street  wits  are  all  employ’d! 
With  elegies  the  town  is  cloy’d  : 

Some  paragraph  in  every  paper 
To  curse  the  Dean,  or  bless  the  Drapiei# 
The  doctors,  tender  of  their  fame. 
Wisely  on  me  lay  all  the  blame. 
ftWe  must  confess  his  case  was  nice; 

But  he  would  never  take  advice. 

Had  he  been  ruled,  for  aught  appears, 

He  might  have  lived  these  twenty  yeai*S| 
For  when  we  open’d  him  we  found 
That  all  his  vital  parts  were  sound." 

From  Dublin  soon  to  London  spread, 
*Tis  told  at  court,  “ The  Dean  is  dead** 
And  Lady  Suffolk,  in  the  spleen, 

Runs  laughing  up  to  tell  the  Queen. 

The  Queen,  so  gracious,  mild,  and  good. 
Cries,  “ Is  he  gone  ! ’tis  time  he  should* 
He’s  dead,  you  say  ; then  let  him  rot; 

I’m  glad  the  medals  were  forgot. 

I promised  him,  I owrn;  but  when? 

I only  was  the  princess  then  : 

But  now,  as  consort  of  the  king, 

You  know,  ’tis  quite  another  thing.* 

Now  Chartres,  at  Sir  Roberts  levee. 

Tells  with  a sneer  the  tidings  heavy: 

“ Why,  if  he  died  without  his  shoes,* 

Cries  Bob,  “ I’m  sorry  for  the  news  : 

Oh,  were  the  wrretch  but  living  still, 

And  in  his  place  my  good  friend  Willi 
Or  had  a mitre  on  his  head, 

Provided  Boiingbroke  were  dead  !" 

Now  Curll  his  shop  from  rubbish  drains : 
Three  genuine  tomes  of  Swift’s  Remains  I 
And  then,  to  make  them  pass  the  glibber. 
Revised  by  Tibbalds,  Moore,  and  Cibbeft 
He’ll  treat  me  as  he  does  my  betters, 
Publish  my  will,  my  life,  my  letters ; 
Revive  the  libels  born  to  die  ; 

Which  Pope  must  bear,  as  well  as  I. 

Here  shift  the  scene,  to  represent 
How  those  I love  my  death  lament. 

Poor  Pope  will  grieve  a month,  and  Gay 
A week,  and  Arbuthnot  a day. 

St.  John  himself  will  scarce  forbear 
To  bite  his  pen,  and  drop  a tear. 

The  rest  will  give  a shrug,  and  cry, 

14  I’m  sorry — but  we  all  must  die !” 


603 


ON  THE  HEATH  OF  HR.  SWIFT. 

Indifference,  clad  in  Wisdom’s  guise, 

All  fortitude  of  mind  supplies  : 

For  how  can  stony  bowels  melt 
In  those  who  never  pity  felt ! 

When  we  are  lash’d,  they  kiss  the  rod, 

Resigning  to  the  will  of  God. 

The  fools,  my  juniors  by  a year, 

Are  tortured  with  suspense  and  fear  ; 

Who  wisely  thought  my  age  a screen, 

When  death  approach’d,  to  stand  between  : . 

The  screen  removed,  their  hearts  are  trembling  ; 
They  mourn  for  me  without  dissembling. 

My  female  friends,  whose  tender  hearts 
Have  better  learn’d  to  act  their  parts, 

Receive  the  news  in  doleful  dumps  : 
u The  Dean  is  dead  : (Pray  what  is  trumps?) 
Then,  Lord  have  mercy  on  his  soul ! 

(Ladies,  111  venture  for  the  vole.) 

Six  deans,  they  say,  must  bear  the  pall  | 

(I  wish  I knew  what  king  to  call.) 

Madam,  your  husband  will  attend 
The  funeral  of  so  good  a friend.” 
u No,  madam,  ’tis  a shocking  sight  : 

And  he’s  engaged  to-morrow  night  : 

My  Lady  Club  will  take  it  ill, 

If  he  should  fail  her  at  quadrille. 

He  loved  the  Dean— (I  lead  a heart,) 

But  dearest  friends,  they  say,  must  part* 

His  time  was  come  : he  ran  his  race  : 

We  hope  he’s  in  a better  place.” 

Why  do  we  grieve  that  friends  should  die  I 
No  loss  more  easy  to  supply. 

One  year  is  past  ; a different  scene  ! 

No  further  mention  of  the  Dean  ; 

Who  now,  alas  ! no  more  is  miss’d, 

Than  if  he  never  did  exist. 

Where’s  now  the  favourite  of  Apollo  ? 

Departed  : — and  his  works  must  follow  | 

Must  undergo  the  common  fate  ; * 

His  kind  of  wit  is  out  of  date. 

Some  country  squire  to  Lintot  goes, 

Inquires  for  “ Swift  in  Verse  and  Prose** 

Says  Lintot,  “ I have  heard  the  name  ; 

He  died  a year  ago.” — 44  The  same.” 

He  searches  all  the  shop  in  vain. 

46  Sir,  you  may  find  them  in  Duck-lane  1 
I sent  them,  with  a load  of  books, 

Last  Monday  to  the  pastrycook’s* 

To  fancy  they  could  live  a year  ! 

I find  you’re  but  a stranger  here* 


604 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


The  Dean  was  famous  in  his  time, 

And  had  a kind  of  knack  at  rhymes 
His  way  of  writing  now  is  past  : 

The  town  has  got  a better  taste; 

I keep  no  antiquated  stuff, 

But  spick  and  span  I have  enough. 

Pray,  do  but  give  me  leave  to  show  'em f 
Here’s  Colley  Cibber’s  birthday  poem* 

This  ode  you  never  yet  have  seen, 

By  Stephen  Duck,  upon  the  Queen. 

Then  here’s  a letter  finely  penn’d 
Against  the  Craftsman  and  his  friend  t 
It  clearly  shows  that  all  reflection 
On  ministers  is  disaffection. 

Next  here’s  Sir  Robert’s  vindication, 

And  Mr.  Henley’s  last  oration. 

The  hawkers  have  not  got  them  yet : 

Vour  honour  please  to  buy  a set  ? 

“ Here’s  Wolston’s  tracts,  the  twelfth  edition  f 
'Tis  read  by  every  politician  : 

The  country  members,  when  in  town, 

To  all  their  boroughs  send  them  down  ; 

You  never  met  a thing  so  smart ; 

The  courtiers  have  them  all  by  heart ; 

Those  maids  of  honour  who  can  read, 

Are  taught  to  use  them  for  their  creed. 

The  reverend  author’s  good  intention 
Has  been  rewarded  with  a pension. 

He  does  an  honour  to  his  gown, 

By  bravely  running  priestcraft  down  : 

He  shows,  as  sure  as  God’s  in  Glocester, 

That  Moses  was  a grand  impostor  ; 

That  all  his  miracles  were  cheats, 

Perform’d  as  jugglers  do  their  feats  : 

The  church  had  never  such  a writer : 

A shame  he  has  not  got  a mitre  !” 

Suppose  me  dead  ; and  then  suppose 
A club  assembled  at  the  Rose  ; 

Where  from  discourse  of  this  and  that, 

I grow  the  subject  of  their  chat. 

And  while  they  toss  my  name  about, 

With  favour  some,  and  some  without  ; 

One,  quite  indifferent  in  the  cause, 

My  character  impartial  draws  : 

“ The  Dean,  if  we  believe  report, 

Was  never  ill-received  at  court. 

As  for  his  Works  in  verse  and  prose, 

I own  myself  no  judge  of  those  : 

Nor  can  I tell  what  critics  thought  'em; 

But  this  I know,  all  people  bought  ’em; 


ON  THE  DEATH  OF  DR.  SWIFT. 


As  with  a moral  view  design’d 
To  cure  the  vices  of  mankind  : 

His  vein,  ironically  grave, 

Exposed  the  fool,  and  lash’d  the  knave* 

To  steal  a hint  was  never  known, 

But  what  he  writ  was  all  his  own. 

“He  never  thought  an  honour  done  him. 
Because  a duke  was  proud  to  own  him  $ 
Would  rather  slip  aside,  and  choose 
To  talk  with  wits  in  dirty  shoes  ; 

Despised  the  fools  with  stars  and  garters 
So  often  seen  caressing  Chartres. 

He  never  courted  men  in  station 
Nor  persons  held  in  admiration  ; 

Of  no  man’s  greatness  was  afraid. 

Because  he  sought  for  no  man’s  aid* 
Though  trusted  long  in  great  affairs. 

He  gave  himself  no  haughty  airs  ; 

Without  regarding  private  ends, 

Spent  all  his  credit  for  his  friends  : 

And  only  chose  the  wise  and  good  f 
No  flatterers  ; no  allies  in  blood  : 

But  succour’d  virtue  in  distress, 

And  seldom  fail’d  of  good  success  ; 

As  numbers  in  their  hearts  must  own. 

Who,  but  for  him,  had  been  unknown.  * 

“ With  princes  kept  a due  decorum  ; 

But  never  stood  in  awe  before  ’em. 

He  follow’d  David’s  lesson  just  ; 

* In  princes  never  put  thy  trust 
And,  would  you  make  him  truly  sour. 
Provoke  him  with  a slave  in  power. 

The  Irish  senate  if  you  named, 

With  what  impatience  he  declaim’d  | 

Fair  Liberty  was  all  his  cry  ; 

For  her  he  stood  prepared  to  die; 

For  her  he  boldly  stood  alone  ; 

For  her  he  oft  exposed  his  own. 

Two  kingdoms,  just  as  faction  led. 

Had  set  a price  upon  his  head; 

But  not  a traitor  could  be  found, 

To  sell  him  for  six-hundred  pound. 

" Had  he  but  spared  his  tongue  and  pea, 
He  might  have  rose  like  other  men; 

But  power  was  never  in  his  thought. 

And  wealth  he  valued  not  a groat : 
Ingratitude  he  often  found, 

And  pitied  those  who  meant  the  wound  3 
But  kept  the  tenor  of  his  mind, 

To  merit  well  of  humankind  : 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


Nor  made  a sacrifice  of  those 
Who  still  were  true,  to  please  his  foes 
He  labour’d  many  a fruitless  hour 
To  reconcile  his  friends  in  power  ; 

Saw  mischief  by  a faction  brewing, 

While  they  pursued  each  others  ruia. 

But  finding  vain  was  all  his  care, 

He  left  the  court  in  mere  despair. 

“And,  oh ! how  short  are  human  schemes! 
Here  ended  all  our  golden  dreams. 

What  St.  John’s  skill  in  state  affairs, 

What  Ormond’s  valour,  Oxford’s  cares, 

To  save  their  sinking  country  lent, 

Was  all  destroy’d  by  one  event. 

Too  soon  that  precious  life  was  ended 
On  which  alone  our  weal  depended. 

When  up  a dangerous  faction  starts, 

With  wrath  and  vengeance  in  their  hearts; 

By  solemn  league  and  covenant  bound* 

To  ruin,  slaughter,  and  confound  ; 

To  turn  religion  to  a fable, 

And  make  the  government  a Babel  ; 

Pervert  the  laws,  disgrace  the  gown, 

Corrupt  the  senate,  rob  the  crown  ; 

To  sacrifice  Old  England’s  glory, 

And  make  her  infamous  in  story  : 

When  such  a tempest  shook  the  land. 

How  could  unguarded  Virtue  stand  ! 

With  horror,  grief,  despair,  the  Dean 
Beheld  the  dire  destructive  scene : 

His  friends  in  exiie,  or  the  Tower, 

Himself  within  the  frown  of  power; 

Pursued  by  base  envenom’d  pens, 

Far  to  the  land  of  saints  and  fens ; 

A servile  race  in  folly  nursed, 

W'ho  truckle  most,  when  treated  worst. 

“ By  innocence  and  resolution, 

He  bpre  continual  persecution; 

While  numbers  to  preferment  rose, 

Whose  merits  were,  to  be  his  foes ; 

When  even  his  own  familiar  friends, 

Intent  upon  their  private  ends, 

Like  renegadoes  now  he  feels, 

Against  him  lifting  up  their  heels. 

“ The  Dean  did,  by  his  pen,  defeat 
An  infamous  destructive  cheat;* 


* Wood,  a hardwareman  from  England,  had  a patent  for  coining  copper 
halfpence  for  Ireland,  to  the  sum  of  ^108,000,  which,  in  the  consequence, 
must  nave  left  that  kingdom  without  gold  or  silver. — Ed* 


ON  THE  DEATH  OF  DR.  SWIFT. 


607 


Taught  fools  their  interest  how  to  know, 
Andgave  them  arms  to  ward  the  blow. 
Envy  has  own’d  it  was  his  doing, 

To  save  that  hapless  land  from  ruin  ; 
While  they  who  at  the  steerage  stood, 
And  reap’d  the  profit,  sought  his  blood. 

“To  save  them  from  their  evil  fate 
In  him  was  held  a crime  of  state. 

A wicked  monster  on  the  bench,* 
Whose  fury  blood  could  never  quench; 
As  vile  and  profligate  a villain, 

As  modern  Scroggs,t  or  old  Tresilian 
Who  long  all  justice  has  discarded, 

Nor  fear’d  he  God,  nor  man  regaroed; 
Vow’d  on  the  Dean  his  rage  to  vent, 
And  make  him  of  his  zeal  repent : 

But  Heaven  his  innocence  defends, 

The  grateful  people  stand  his  friends ; 
Not  strains  of  law,  nor  judge’s  frown, 
Nor  topics  brought  to  please  the  crown, 
Nor  witness  hired,  nor  jury  pick’d, 
Prevail  to  bring  him  in  convict. 


# Whitshed  was  then  Chief  Justice.  He  had  some  years  before  prosecuted  a 
printer  for  a pamphlet  written  by  the  Dean,  to  persuade  the  people  of  Ireland  to 
wear  tlieir  own  manufactures.  Whitshed  sent  the  jury  down  eleven  times,  and  kept 
them  nine  hours,  until  they  were  forced  to  bring  in  a special  verdict.  He  sat 
afterwards  on  the  trial  of  the  printer  of  the  Drapier’s  fourth  letter ; but  the  jury, 
against  all  he  could  say  or  swear,  threw  out  the  bill.  All  the  kingdom  took  the 
Drapier’s  part,  except  the  courtiers,  or  those  who  expected  places.  Whitshed 
died  Aug.  26,  1 727  (having  a few  months  before  exchanged  his  place  in  the 
King’s  Bench,  which  he  had  held  ten  or  twelve  years,  for  the  same  office  in  the 
Common  Pleas)  : and  Archbishop  Boulter  says,  his  uneasiness  upon  some 
affronts  he  met  with  helped  to  shorten  his  days.  These  affronts  were  certainly 
the  satires  of  the  Dean  and  his  friends. — [Note  by  Hawkesworth.] 

+ Sir  William  Scroggs,  Chief  Justice  of  the  King’s  Bench  in  the  reign  of 
King  Charles  II.,  was  a man  of  low  birth,  aud  raised  himself  as  much  by 
means  of  his  debaucheries,  as  of  his  abilities  in  hre  profession.  He  was  pre- 
ferred for  professing  loyalty  ; but,  Oates’s  plot  coming  forward,  he  exerted  him- 
self very  much  on  the  side  of  that  informer,  though  he  afterward  changed  again, 
and  was  equally  violent  against  him.  For  some  dirty  jobs,  which  he  did  to 
oblige  the  court,  he  was  impeached  in  parliament ; but  the  matter  never  was 
proceeded  upon.  While  at  the  bar,  he  was  always  necessitous  ; but  during  his 
preferment,  he  took  care  to  secure  a good  lortune  for  himself,  having  in  that 
period  purchased  the  manor  of  Brentwood,  in  Essex.  He  afterwards  died,  in 
Essex-street,  of  a polypus  in  the  heart. — [Note  by  Nichols.] 
t Sir  Robert  Tresilian  was  Chief  Justice  of  England  in  the  time  of  Richard  II. 
He  was  adviser  of  many  illegal  acts  in  that  reign,  for  which  he  was  impeached, 
with  several  other  ludges  and  some  noblemen,  in  parliament.  Being  convicted 
of  the  offences  he  was  charged  with,  he  was  executed,  February  19th,  1388.— 
[Note  by  Nichols.] 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS . 


6o3 


w In  exile,  with  a steady  heart, 

He  spent  his  life’s  declining  partj 
Where  folly,  pride,  and  faction  sway, 
Remote  from  St.  John,  Pope,  and  Gay* 

His  friendships  there,  to  few  confined. 
Were  always  of  the  middling  kind  ; 

No  fools  of  rank,  a mongrel  breed. 

Who  fain  would  pass  for  lords  indeed  l 
Where  titles  give  no  right,  or  power, 

And  peerage  is  a wither’d  flower  ; 

He  would  have  held  it  a disgrace. 

If  such  a wretch  had  known  his  face. 

On  rural  squires,  that  kingdom’s  bane^ 

He  vented  oft  his  wrath  in  vain  ; 

squires  to  market  brought ; 

Who  sell  their  souls  and  ....  for  nought# 

The go  joyful  back, 

To  . . . the  church  their  tenants  rack, 

Go  snacks  with 

And  keep  the  pence,  to  pick  up  fees  2 
In  every  job  to  have  a share, 

A gaol  or  turnpike  to  repair  ; 

And  turn  the  tax  for  public  roads 
Commodious  to  their  own  abodes. 

“ Perhaps  I may  allow  the  Dean 
Had  too  much  satire  in  his  vein  ; 

And  seem’d  determined  not  to  starve  it, 
Because  no  age  could  more  deserve  it. 

Yet  malice  never  was  his  aim  ; 

He  lash’d  the  vice,  but  spared  the  names 
No  individual  could  resent, 

Where  thousands  equally  were  meant; 

His  satire  points  at  no  defect, 

But  what  all  mortals  may  correct ; . 

For  he  abhorr’d  that  senseless  tribe 
Who  call  it  humour  when  they  gibe  S 
He  sparft.  a hump,  or  crooked  nose, 
Whose  owners  set  not  up  for  beaux. 

True  genuine  dulness  moved  his  pity# 
Unless  it  offer’d  to  be  witty  ; 

Those  who  their  ignorance  confest, 

He  ne’er  offended  with  a jest ; 

But  laugh’d  to  hear  an  idiot  quote 
A verse  from  Horace  learn’d  by  rote. 

“ He  knew  a hundred  pleasing  stories^ 
With  all  the  turns  of  whigs  and  tones  ; 
Was  cheerful  to  his  dying  day  ; 

And  friends  would  let  him  have  his  way* 

“ He  gave  the  little  wealth  he  had 
To  build  a house  lor  fools  and  mad ; 


609 


ON  THE  DEATH  OF  DR.  SWIFT. 

And  showed  by  one  satiric  touch, 

No  nation  wanted  it  so  much. 

That  kingdom  he  hath  left  his  debtor, 

I wish  it  soon  may  have  a better 99 


THE  BEASTS1  CONFESSION  TO  THE  PRIEST, 


ON  OBSERVING  HOW  MOST  MEN  MISTAKE 
THEIR  OWN  TALENTS.  1732, 

PREFACE 


T HAVE  been  long  of  opinion,  that  there  is  not  a more  general 
A andgieater  mistake,  or  of  worse  consequences  through  the  com- 
merce of  mankind,  than  the  wrong  judgments  they  are  apt  to  enter- 
tain of  their  own  talents.  I knew  a stuttering  alderman  in  London, 
a great  frequenter  of  coffee-houses,  who  when  a fresh  newspaper  was 
brought  in  constantly  se.zed  it  first,  and  read  it  aloud  to  his  brother 
citizens ; but  in  a manner  as  little  intelligible  to  the  standers-by  as 
to  himself.  How  many  pretenders  to  learning  expose  themselves  by 
choosing  to  discourse  on  those  very  parts  of  science  wherewith  they 
are  least  acquainted  ! It  is  the  same  case  in  every  other  qualification. 
By  the  multitude  ot  those  who  deal  in  rhymes,  from  half  a sheet  to 
twenty,  which  come  out  every  minute, there  must  be  at  least  five  hundred 
poets  in  the  city  and  suburbs  of  London  ; half  as  many  coffee-house 
orators,  exclusive  of  the  clergy;  forty  thousand  politicians,  and  four 
thousand  five  hundred  profound  scholars  ; not  to  mention  the  wits  the 
railers,  the  smart  fellows,  and  critics  ; all  as  illiterate  and  impudent 
as  a suburb  whore.  What  are  we  to  think  of  the  fine-dressed  sparks, 
proud  of  their  own  personal  deformities,  which  appear  the  more 
hideous  by  the  contrast  of  wearing  scarlet  and  gold,  with  what  they 
cal  toupets  on  their  heads,  and  all  the  frippery  of  a modern  beau,  to 
make  a figure  before  women  ; some  of  them  with  humpbacks,  others 
hardly  five  feet  high,  and  every  feature  of  their  faces  distorted  : I have 
seen  many  o.  these  insipid  pretenders  entering  into  conversation  with 
persons  of  learning,  constantly  making  the  grossest  blunders  in  every 
sentence,  without  conveying  one  single  idea  fit  for  a rational  creature 
to  spend  a thought  on ; perpetually  confounding  all  chronology,  and 
geography  even  of  present  times.  I compute  that  London  hath  eleven 
native  fools  of  the  beau  and  puppy  kind,  tor  one  among  us  in  Dublin  ; 
beside  two  thirds  of  ours  transplanted  thither,  who  are  now  naturalized- 
whereby  that  overgrown  capital  exceeds  ours  in  the  article  of  dunces 
by  forty  to  cm . ; and  what  is  more  to  our  further  mortification,  theta 
Is  not  one  distinguished  fool  of  Irish  birth  or  education,  who  makes  any 

* Wigs  with  long  black  tails,  at  that  time  very  much  in  fashion.  Ed. 

39 


6io 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS . 


noise  in  that  famous  metropolis,  unless  the  London  prints  be  very  par- 
tial or  defective,  whereas  London  is  seldom  without  a dozen  of  their 
own  educating,  who  engross  the  vogue  for  half  a winter  together,  and 
are  never  heard  of  more,  but  give  place  to  a new  set.  This  has  been 
the  constant  progress  for  at  least  thirty  years  past,  only  allowing  for  the 
change  of  breed  and  fashion. 

The  poem  is  grounded  upon  the  universal  folly  in  mankind  of  mis- 
taking their  talents;  by  which  the  author  does  a great  honour  to  his  own 
species,  almost  equalling  them  with  certain  brutes  ; wherein;  indeed,  he 
is  too  partial,  as  he  freely  confesses,  and  yet  he  has  gone  as  low  as  he 
well  could,  by  specifying  four  animals— the  wolf,  the  ass,  the  swine,  and 
the  ape — all  equally  mischievous,  except  the  last,  who  outdoes  them  in 
the  article  of  cunning ; so  great  is  the  pride  oi  man  1 


WHEN  beasts  could  speak  (the  learned  say# 
They  still  can  do  so  every  day) 

It  seems,  they  had  religion  then, 

As  much  as  now  we  find  in  men. 

It  happen’d,  when  a plague  broke  out, 

( Which  therefore  made  them  more  devout) 

The  king  of  brutes  (to  make  it  plain, 

Of  quadrupeds  I only  mean) 

By  proclamation  gave  command, 

That  every  subject  in  the  land 
Should  to  the  priest  confess  their  sins; 

And  thus  the  pious  Wolf  begins  : 
u Good  father,  I must  own  w ith  shame. 

That  often  I have  been  to  blame  ; 

I must  confess,  on  Friday  last, 

Wretch  that  I w^as  ! I broke  my  fast ; 

But  I defy  the  basest  tongue 
To  prove  I did  my  neighbour  wrong; 

Or  ever  went  to  seek  my  food 
By  rapine,  theft,  or  thirst  of  blood.” 

The  Ass  approaching  next,  confe^d, 

That  in  his  heart  he  loved  a jest  : 

A wag  he  was,  he  needs  must  own, 

And  could  not  let  a dunce  alone  : 

Sometimes  his  friend  he  would  not  sparer 
And  might  perhaps  be  too  severe  : 

But  yet  the  worst  that  could  be  said, 

He  was  a wit  both  born  and  bred  ; 

And,  if  it  be  a sin  and  shame, 

Nature  alone  must  bear  the  blame  : 

One  fault  he  has,  is  sorry  for’t, 

His  ears  are  half  a foot  too  short ; 

Which  could  he  to  the  standard  bring, 

He’d  show  his  tace  beiore  the  king  ; 


THE  BEASTS'  CONFESSION. 


6if 


Then  for  his  voice,  there’s  none  disputes 
That  he’s  the  nightingale  of  brutes. 

The  Swine  with  contrite  heart  allow’d. 
His  shape  and  beauty  made  him  proud  ; 
In  diet  was  perhaps  too  nice, 

But  gluttony  was  ne’er  his  vice  : 

In  every  turn  of  life  content, 

And  meekly  took  what  fortune  sent ; 
Inquire  through  fill  the  parish  round, 

A better  neighbour  ne’er  was  found ; 

His  vigilance  might  some  displease ; 

*Tis  true,  he  hated  sloth  like  pease. 

The  mimic  Ape  began  his  chatter. 

How  evil  tongues  his  life  bespatter  ; 

Much  of  the  censuring  world  complain’^ 
Who  said,  his  gravity  was  feign’d  ; 

Indeed  the  strictness  of  his  morals 
Engaged  him  in  a hundred  quarrels  : 

He  saw,  and  he  was  grieved  to  see’t, 

His  zeal  was  sometimes  indiscreet : 

He  found  his  virtues  too  severe 
For  our  corrupted  times  to  bear; 

Yet  such  a lewd  licentious  age 
Might  well  excuse  a stoic’s  rage. 

The  Goat  advanced  with  decent  pacej 
And  first  excused  his  youthrul  face ; 
Forgiveness  begg’d  that  he  appear’d 
(’Twas  Nature’s  fault)  without  a beard. 
’Tis  true  he  was  not  much  inclined 
To  fondness  for  the  female  kind  : 

Not  as  his  enemies  object, 

From  chance,  or  natural  defect; 

Not  by  his  frigid  constitution  ; 

But  through  a pious  resolution  : 

For  he  had  made  a holy  vow 
Of  Chastity,  as  monks  do  now  ; 

Which  he  resolved  to  keep  for  ever  hence^ 
And  strictly  too,  as  doth  his  reverence. 

Apply  the  tale,  and  you  shall  find, 

How  just  it  suits  with  human-kind. 

Some  faults  we  own  ; but  can  you  guess  ? 
Why  virtues  carried  to  excess, 

Wherewith  our  vanity  endows  us, 

Though  neither  foe  nor  friend  allows  us. 

The  Lawyer  swears  (you  may  rely  on’t) 
He  never  squeezed  a needy  client ; 

And  this  he  makes  his  constant  rule ; 

For  which  his  brethren  call  him  fool ; 

His  conscience  always  was  so  nice 
He  freely  gave  the  poor  advice  : 


39—* 


6l2 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


By  which  he  lost,  he  may  affirm, 

A hundred  fees  last  Easter  term. 

While  others  of  the  learned  robe 
Would  break  the  patience  of  a Job, 

No  pleader  at  the  bar  could  match 
His  diligence  and  quick  dispatch  ; 

Ne’er  kept  a cause,  he  well  may  boast^ 
Above  a term  or  two  or  most. 

The  cringing  knave,  who  seeks  a place 
Without  success,  thus  tells  his  case  : 

Why  should  he  longer  mince  the  matter? 
He  fail’d,  because  he  could  not  flatter  ; 

He  had  not  learn’d  to  turn  his  coat. 

Nor  for  a party  give  his  vote  : 

His  crime  he  quickly  understood  ; 

Too  zealous  for  the  nation’s  good : 

He  found  the  ministers  resent  it, 

Yet  could  not  for  his  heart  repent  it. 

The  Chaplain  vows,  he  cannot  fawn, 
Though  it  would  raise  him  to  the  lawn  ; 
He  pass’d  his  hours  among  his  books  $ 
You  find  it  in  his  meagre  looks  ; 

He  might,  if  he  were  worldly  wise, 
Preferment  get,  and  spare  his  eyes  : 

But  owns,  he  had  a stubborn  spirit. 

That  made  him  trust  alone  to  merit; 
Would  raise  by  merit  to  promotion  ; 

Alas  ! a mere  chimeric  notion. 

The  Doctor,  if  you  will  believe  him, 
Confess’d  a sin  ; (and  God  forgive  him !) 
Call’d  up  at  midnight,  ran  to  save 
A blind  old  beggar  from  the  grave  : 

But  see  how  Satan  spreads  his  snares; 

He  quite  forgot  to  say  his  prayers. 

He  cannot  help  it  for  his  heart 
Sometimes  to  act  the  parson’s  part : 
Quotes  from  the  Bible  many  a sentence, 
That  moves  his  patients  to  repentance ; 
And,  when  his  medicines  do  no  good 
Supports  their  minds  with  heavenly  food  ) 
At  which,  however  well  intended, 

He  hears  the  clergy  are  offended  ; 

And  grown  so  bold  behind  his  back, 

To  call  him  hypocrite  and  quack. 

In  his  own  church  he  keeps  a seat ; 

Says  grace  before  and  after  meat ; 

And  calls,  without  affecting  airs, 

His  household  twice  a day  to  prayers* 

He  shuns  apothecaries’  shops, 

And  hates  to  cram  the  sick  with  slops  f 


THE  BEASTS * CONFESSION. 


6*3 


He  scorns  to  make  his  art  a trade  ; 

Nor  bribes  my  lady’s  favourite  maid. 

Old  nurse-keepers  would  never  hire, 

To  recommend  him  to  the  squire  : 

Which  others,  whom  he  will  not  name, 
Have  often  practised  to  their  shame. 

The  Statesman  tells  you,  with  a sneer. 

His  fault  is  to  be  too  sincere  ; 

And  having  no  sinister  ends, 

Is  apt  to  disoblige  his  friends. 

The  nation’s  good,  his  master’s  glory, 
Without  regard  to  whig  or  tory, 

Were  all  the  schemes  he  had  in  view ; 

Yet  he  was  seconded  by  few  : 

Though  some  had  spread  a thousand  lies, 
n? was  he  defeated  the  excise. 

*Twas  known,  though  he  had  borne  aspersion 
That  standing  troops  were  his  aversion ; 

His  practice  was,  in  every  station, 

To  serve  the  king,  and  please  the  nation. 
Though  hard  to  rind  in  every  case 
The  fittest  man  to  fill  a place ; 

His  promises  he  ne’er  forgot, 

But  took  memorials  on  the  spot. 

His  enemies,  for  want  of  charity. 

Said,  he  affected  popularity  ; 

*Tis  true,  the  people  understood, 

That  all  he  did  was  for  their  good  ; 

Their  kind  affections  he  has  tried; 

No  love  is  lost  on  either  side. 

He  came  to  court  with  fortune  clear, 

Which  now  he  runs  out  every  year ; 

Must,  at  the  rate  that  he  goes  on, 

Inevitably  be  undone  : 

O ! if  his  majesty  would  please 
To  give  him  but  a writ  of  ease, 

Would  grant  him  licence  to  retire, 

And  it  has  long  been  his  desire, 

By  fair  accounts  it  would  be  found, 

He’s  poorer  by  ten  thousand  pound* 

He  owns,  and  hopes  it  is  no  sin, 

He  ne’er  was  partial  to  his  kin  ; 

He  thought  it  base  for  men  in  stations 
To  crowd  the  court  with  their  relations! 

His  country  was  his  dearest  mother, 

And  every  virtuous  man  his  brother  ; 
Through  modesty  or  awkward  shame, 

(For  which  he  owns  himself  to  blame) 

He  lound  the  wisest  man  he  could, 

Without  respect  to  inends  or  blood  i 


6l$ 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


Nor  ever  acts  on  private  views, 

When  he  has  liberty  t6  choose. 

The  Sharper  swore  he  hated  play. 
Except  to  pass  an  hour  away  : 

And  well  he  might ; for,  to  his  cost, 

By  want  of  skill,  he  always  lost ; 

He  heard  there  was  a club  of  cheats, 
Who  had  contrived  a thousand  feats ; 
Could  change  the  stock,  or  cog  a die. 
And  thus  deceive  the  sharpest  eye 
No  wonder  how  his  fortune  sunk, 

His  brothers  fleece  him  when  he’s  drunk# 
I own  the  moral  not  exact ; 

Besides,  the  tale  is  false  in  fact ; 

And  so  absurd,  that  could  I raise  up 
From  fields  Elysian,  fabling  .Esop, 

1 would  accuse  him  to  his  face 
For  libelling  the  fourfoot  race. 

Creatures  of  every  kind  but  ours 
Well  comprehend  their  natural  powers. 
While  we,  whom  reason  ought  to  sway. 
Mistake  our  talents  every  day. 

The  Ass  was  never  known  so  stupid. 

To  act  the  part  of  Tray  or  Cupid ; 

Nor  leaps  upon  his  master’s  lap, 

There  to  be  stroked,  and  fed  with  pap, 
AsEsop  would  the  world  persuade  ; 

He  better  understands  his  trade  ; 

Nor  comes  whene’er  his  lady  whistles  ; 
But  carries  loads,  and  feeds  on  thistles 
Our  author’s  meaning,  I presume,  is 
A creature  bipes  et  implumis; 

Wherein  the  moralist  design’d 
A compliment  on  humankind  : 

For  here  he  owns,  that  now  and  then 
Beasts  may  degenerate  into  men. 


THE  PARSON’S  CASE. 

THAT  you,  friend  Marcus,  like  a stoicfc 
Can  wish  to  die  in  strains  heroic. 
No  real  fortitude  implies  : 

Yet  all  must  own  thy  wish  is  wise. 

Thy  curate’s  place,  thy  fruitful  wife* 

Thy  busy,  drudging  scene  of  life, 

Thy  insolent,  illiterate  vicar, 

Thy  want  of  all-consoling  liquor, 


THE  F ARSON'S  CASE. 


Thy  threadbare  gown,  thy  cassock  rent* 
Thy  credit  sunk,  thy  money  spent, 

Thy  week  made  up  of  fasting-days. 

Thy  grate  unconscious  of  a blaze. 

And,  to  complete  thy  other  curses. 

The  quarterly  demands  of  nurses. 

Are  ills  you  wisely  wish  to  leave. 

And  fly  for  refuge  to  the  grave ; 

And  O what  virtue  you  express. 

In  wishing  such  afflictions  less  ! 

But  now  should  Fortune  shift  the  scenes 
And  make  thy  curateship  a dean ; 

Or  some  rich  benefice  provide 
To  pamper  luxury  and  pride  ; 

With  labour  small  and  income  great ; 
With  chariot  less  for  use  than  state  ; 

With  swelling  scarf  and  glossy  gown, 

And  licence  to  reside  in  town  : 

To  shine  where  all  the  gay  resort, 

At  concerts,  coffee-house,  or  court : 

And  weekly  persecute  his  grace 
With  visits,  or  to  beg  a place  ; 

With  underlings  thy  flock  to  teach, 

With  no  desire  to  pray  or  preach  ; 

With  haughty  spouse  in  vesture  fine, 

With  plenteous  meals  and  generous  winef 
Wouldst  thou  not  wish,  in  so  much  ease, 
Thy  years  as  numerous  as  thy  days  ? 


A LOVE  SONG. 

121  THE  MODERN  TASTE. 

*733- 

f. 

FLUTTERING  spread  thy  purple  p!nion% 
Gentle  Cupid,  o’er  my  heart ; 

I,  a slave  in  thy  dominions  ; 

Nature  must  give  way  to  art 

II. 

Mild  Arcadians,  ever  blooming. 

Nightly  nodding  o’er  your  flockfl^ 

See  my  weary  days  consuming 
All  beneath  yon  flowery  rocks 


6x6 


DE AM  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


III. 

Thus  the  Cyprian  goddess  weeping 
Mourn’d  Adonis,  darling  youth  ; 

Him  the  boar,  in  silence  creeping. 
Gored  with  unrelenting  tooth. 

IV. 

Cynthia,  tune  harmonious  numbers  f 
Fair  Discretion,  string  the  lyre  ; 

Soothe  my  ever-waking  slumbers  l 
Bright  Apollo,  lend  thy  choir. 

V. 

Gloomy  Pluto,  king  of  terrors, 

Arm’d  in  adamantine  chains, 

Lead  me  to  the  crystal  mirrors, 
Watering  soft  Elysian  plains. 

VI. 

Mournful  cypress,  verdant  willow, 
Gilding  my  Aurelia’s  brows, 

Morpheus,  hovering  o’er  my  pillow. 
Hear  me  pay  my  dying  vows. 

VII. 

Melancholy  smooth  Meander, 

Swiftly  purling  in  a round, 

On  thy  margin  lovers  wander, 

With  thy  flowery  chaplets  crown'd. 

VIII. 

Thus  when  Philomela  drooping 
Softly  seeks  her  silent  mate, 

See  the  bird  of  Juno  stooping; 
Melody  resigns  to  fate. 


ON  THE  WORDS,  “ BROTHER  PROTESTANTS  AND 
FELLOW  CHRISTIANS.” 

So  familiarly  used  by  the  advocates  for  the  repeal  of  the  Test 
Act  in  Ireland,  1733.  ' 

AN  inundation,  says  the  fable, 

O’erflow’d  a farmer’s  barn  and  stable ; 

Whole  ricks  of  hay  and  stacks  of  corn 
Were  down  the  sudden  current  borne ; 

While  things  of  heterogeneous  kind 
Together  float  with  tide  and  wind. 


BROTHER  PROTESTANTS. 


617 


The  generous  wheat  forgot  its  pride. 

And  sail’d  with  litter  side  by  side ; 

Uniting  all,  to  show  their  amity, 

As  in  a general  calamity. 

A ball  of  new-dropp’d  horse’s  dung, 

Mingling  with  apples  in  the  throng, 

Said  to  the  pippin  plump  and  prim, 

“ See,  brother,  how  we  apples  swim.” 

Th  is  Lamb,  renown ’d  for  cutting  corns, 

An  ofi  r’d  fee  from  Radcliff  scorns, 
t(  Not  for  the  world— we  doctors,  brother, 

Must  take  no  fees  of  one  another.” 

Thus  to  a dean  some  curate  sloven 
Subscribes,  “ Dear  sir,  your  brother,  loving.* 

Thus  all  the  footmen,  shoeboys,  porters, 

About  St.  James’s,  cry,  “ We  courtiers.” 

Thus  Horace  in  the  house  will  prate, 

Sir,  we  the  ministers  of  state.” 

Thus  at  the  bar  the  booby  Bettesworth, 

Though  half-a-crown  o’erpays  his  sweat’s  worth* 
Who  knows  in  law  nor  text  nor  margent, 

Calls  Singleton  his  brother  sergeant. 

And  thus  fanatic  saints,  though  neither  in 
Doctrine  nor  discipline  our  brethren, 

Are  brother  Protestants  and  Christians, 

As  much  as  Hebrews  and  Philistines  : 

But  in  no  other  sense,  than  Nature 
Has  made  a rat  our  fellow-creature. 

Lice  from  your  body  suck  their  food : 

But  is  a louse  your  flesh  and  blood? 

Though  born  of  human  filth  and  sweat,  it 
As  well  may  say  man  did  beget  it. 

And  maggots  in  your  nose  and  chin 
As  well  may  claim  you  for  their  kin. 

Yet  critics  may  object,  why  not? 

Since  lice  are  brethren  to  a Scot : 

Which  made  our  swarm  of  sects  determine 
Employments  for  their  brother  vermin. 

But  be  they  English,  Irish,  Scottish, 

What  Protestant  can  be  so  sottish, 

While  o’er  the  Church  these  clouds  are  gathering. 
To  call  a swarm  of  lice  his  brethren  ? 

As  Moses,  by  divine  advice, 

In  Egypt  turn’d  the  dust  to  lice  : 

And  as  our  sects,  by  all  descriptions, 

Have  hearts  more  harden’d  than  Egyptians  5 
As  from  the  trodden  dust  they  spring, 

And,  turn’d  to  lice,  infest  the  king  : 

For  pity’s  sake,  it  would  be  just, 

A rod  should  turn  them  back  to  dust. 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


Let  folks  in  high  or  holy  stations 
Be  proud  of  owning  such  relations  ; 

Let  courtiers  hug  them  in  their  bosom, 
As  if  they  were  afraid  to  lose  ’em  : 

While  I.  with  humble  Job,  had  rather 
Say  to  corruption — “ Thou  7rt  my  father.* 
For  he  that  has  so  little  wit 
To  nourish  vermin,  may  be  bit 


ON  THE  IRISH  CLUB.  1733. 

YE  paltry  underlings  of  state, 

Ye  senators,  who  love  to  prate; 

Ye  rascals  of  inferior  note, 

Who  for  a dinner  sell  a vote ; 

Ye  pack  of  pensionary  peers, 

Whose  fingers  itch  for  poets7  ears ; 

Ye  bishops,  far  removed  from  saints, 

Why  all  this  rage?  Why  these  complaints? 
Why  against  printers  all  this  noise? 

This  summoning  of  blackguard  boys? 

Why  so  sagacious  in  your  guesses? 

Your  effs , and  tees , and  arrs,  and  esses  f 
Take  my  advice  ; to  make  you  safe, 

I know  a shorter  way  by  half. 

The  point  is  plain  ; remove  the  cause  ; 
Defend  your  liberties  and  laws. 

Be  sometimes  to  your  country  true, 

Have  once  the  public  good  in  view  : 

Bravely  despise  champagne  at  court, 

And  choose  to  dine  at  home  with  port  S 
Let  prelates,  by  their  good  behaviour, 
Convince  us  they  believe  a Saviour  ; 

Nor  sell  what  they  so  dearly  bought, 

This  country,  now  their  own,  for  nought* 
Ne’er  did  a true  satiric  muse 
Virtue  or  Innocence  abuse  ; 

And  7tis  against  poetic  rules 
To  rail  at  men,  by  nature  fools. 


ON  POETRY.  A RHAPSODY.  1733, 

ALL  human  race  would  fain  be  wits, 

And  millions  miss  for  one  that  hits* 
Young7s  Universal  Passion,  pride, 

Was  never  known  to  spread  so  wide. 

Say,  Britain,  could  you  ever  boast 
Three  poets  in  an  age  at  most? 


RHAPSODY  ON  POETRY. 


619 


Our  chilling  climate  hardly  bears 
A sprig  of  bays  in  fifty  years  ; 

While  every  fool  his  claim  alleges, 

As  if  it  grew  in  common  hedges. 

What  reason  can  there  be  assign’d 
For  this  perverseness  in  the  mind  ? 
Brutes  find  out  where  their  talents  lie 
A bear  will  not  attempt  to  fly ; 

A founder’d  horse  will  oft  debate, 

Before  he  tries  a five-barr’d  gate  ; 

A dog  by  instinct  turns  aside, 

Who  sees  the  ditch  too  deep  and  widow 
But  man  we  find  the  only  creature 
Who,  led  by  folly,  combats  Nature  ; 

Who,  when  she  loudly  cries,  Forbear 
With  obstinacy  fixes  there  ; 

And,  where  his  genius  least  inclines, 
Absurdly  bends  his  whole  designs. 

Not  empire  to  the  rising  sun 
By  valour,  conduct,  fortune  won  ; 

Not  highest  wisdom  in  debates 
For  framing  laws  to  govern  states  5 
Not  skill  in  sciences  profound 
So  large  to  grasp  the  circle  round  : 

Such  heavenly  influence  require, 

As  how  to  strike  the  Muse’s  lyre. 

Not  beggar’s  brat  on  bulk  begot  5 
Not  bastard  of  a pedlar  Scot ; 

Not  boy  brought  up  to  cleaning  shoes, 
The  spawn  of  Bridewell  or  the  stews  ; 
Not  infants  dropp’d,  the  spurious  pledge* 
Of  gipsies  littering  under  hedges  ; 

Are  so  disqualified  by  fate 
To  rise  in  church,  or  law,  or  state^ 

As  he  whom  Phoebus  in  his  ire 
Has  blasted  with  poetic  fire. 

What  hope  of  custom  in  the  fail, 

While  not  a soul  demands  your  ware? 
Where  you  have  nothing  to  produce 
For  private  life,  or  public  use  ? 

Court,  city,  country,  want  you  not  ; 

You  cannot  bribe,  betray,  or  plot, 

For  poets,  law  makes  no  provision  ; 

The  wealthy  have  you  in  derision  : 

Of  state  affairs  you  cannot  smatter; 

Are  awkward  when  you  try  to  flatter : 
Your  portion,  taking  Britain  round, 

Was  just  one  annual  hundred  pound  ; 
Now  not  so  much  as  in  remainder, 

Since  Cibber  brought  in  an  attainder  { 


620 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS., 


For  ever  fix’d  by  right  divine 
(A  monarch’s  right)  on  Grub-street  line. 

Poor  starveling  bard,  how  small  thy  gains  I 
How  unproportion’d  to  thy  pains  ! 

And  here  a simile  comes  pat  in  : 

Though  chickens  take  a month  to  fatten* 
The  guests  in  less  than  half  an  hour 
Will  more  than  half  a score  devour. 

So,  after  toiling  twenty  days 
To  earn  a stock  of  pence  and  praise* 

Thy  labours,  grown  the  critic’s  prey. 

Are  swallow’d  o’er  a dish  of  tea  : 

Gone  to  be  never  heard  of  more. 

Gone  where  the  chickens  went  before* 

How  shall  a new  attempter  learn 
Of  different  spirits  to  discern, 

And  how  distinguish  which  is  which. 

The  poet’s  vein,  or  scribbling  itch  ? 

Then  hear  an  old  experienced  sinner* 
Instructing  thus  a young  beginner. 

Consult  yourself ; and  if  you  find 
A powerful  impulse  urge  your  mind. 
Impartial  judge  within  your  breast 
What  subject  you  can  manage  best  5 
Whether  your  genius  most  inclines 
To  satire,  praise,  or  humorous  lines. 

To  elegies  in  mournful  tone, 

Or  prologue  sent  from  hand  unknown. 

Then  rising  with  Aurora’s  light, 

The  Muse  invoked,  sit  down  to  write  $ 

Blot  out,  correct,  insert,  refine, 

Enlarge,  diminish,  interline ; 

Be  mindful,  when  invention  fails, 

To  scratch  your  head,  and  bite  your  nails; 

Your  poem  finish’d,  next  your  care 
Is  needful  to  transcribe  it  fair. 

In  modern  wit  all  printed  trash  is 

Set  off  with  numerous  breaks  and  dasheju 

To  statesmen  would  you  give  a wipe 
You  print  it  in  Italic  type. 

When  letters  are  in  vulgar  shapes* 

*Tis  ten  to  one  the  wit  escapes  : 

But,  when  in  capitals  express’d, 

The  dullest  reader  smokes  the  jest  Z 
Or  else  perhaps  he  may  invent 
A better  than  the  poet  meant ; 

As  learned  commentators  view 
In  Homer  more  than  Homer  knew;1 

Your  poem  in  its  modish  dress, 

Correctly  fitted  for  the  press, 


RHAPSODY  ON  POETRY. 


621 


Convey  by  penny-post  to  Lintot, 

But  let  no  friend  alive  look  into't. 

If  Lintot  thinks  'twill  quit  the  cost. 

You  need  not  fear  your  labour  lost : 

And  how  agreeably  surprised 
Are  you  to  see  it  advertised  ! 

The  hawker  shows  you  one  in  print, 

As  fresh  as  farthings  from  the  mint : 

The  product  of  your  toil  and  sweating  ; 

A bastard  of  your  own  begetting. 

Be  sure  at  Will's,  the  following  day, 

Lie  snug,  and  hear  wha*t  critics  say  ; 

And,  if  you  find  the  general  vogue 
Pronounces  you  a stupid  rogue. 

Damns  all  your  thoughts  as  low  and  little^ 
Sit  still,  and  swallow  down  your  spittle. 

Be  silent  as  a politician, 

For  talking  may  beget  suspicion  : 

Or  praise  the  judgment  of  the  town. 

And  help  yourself  to  run  it  down. 

Give  up  your  fond  paternal  pride, 

Nor  argue  on  the  weaker  side  : 

For  poems  read  without  a name 
We  justly  praise  or  justly  blame  ; 

And  critics  have  no  partial  views. 

Except  they  know  whom  they  abuse  : 

And  since  you  ne’er  provoke  their  spite. 
Depend  upon't  their  judgment's  right. 

But  if  you  blab,  you  are  undone  : 

Consider  what  a risk  you  run  : 

You  lose  your  credit  all  at  once  ; 

The  town  will  mark  you  for  a dunce  ; 

The  vilest  doggerel  Grub-street  sends, 

Will  pass  for  yours  with  foes  and  friends  ; 
And  you  must  bear  the  whole  disgrace, 

Till  some  fresh  blockhead  takes  your  place. 

Your  secret  kept,  your  poem  sunk, 

And  sent  in  quires  to  line  a trunk, 

If  still  you  be  disposed  to  rhyme, 

Go  try  your  hand  a second  time. 

Again  you  fail  : yet  Safe's  the  word ; 

Take  courage  and  attempt  a third. 

But  first  with  care  employ  your  thoughts 
Where  critics  mark'd  your  former  taults  ; 
The  trivial  turns,  the  borrow'd  wit, 

The  similes  that  nothing  fit ; 

The  cant  which  every  fool  repeats, 

Town  jests  and  coffee-house  conceitsf 
Descriptions  tedious,  flat  and  dry, 

And  introduced  the  Lord  knows  why  : 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS, 


6u 

Or  where  we  find  your  fury  set 
Against  the  harmless  alphabet ; 

On  A’s  and  B’s  your  malice  vent, 

While  readers  wonder  whom  you  meant  J 
A public  or  a private  robber, 

A statesman,  or  a South-sea  jobber  } 

A prelate,  who  no  God  believes  ; 

A parliament,  or  den  of  thieves  ; 

A pickpurse  at  the  bar  or  bench, 

A duchess,  or  a suburb  wench  : 

Or  oft,  when  epithets  you  link 
In  gaping  lines  to  fill  a chink ; 

(Like  stepping-stones,  to  save  a stride. 

In  streets  where  kennels  are  too  widej 
Or  like  a heel-piece,  to  support 
A cripple  with  one  foot  too  short ; 

Or  like  a bridge,  that  joins  a marish 
To  moorlands  of  a different  parish. 

So  have  I seen  ill-coupled  hounds 
Drag  different  ways  in  miry  grounds; 

So  geographers,  in  Afric  maps, 

With  savage  pictures  fill  their  gaps, 

And  o’er  unhabitable  downs 
Place  elephants  for  want  of  towns. 

But,  though  you  miss  your  third  essay* 
You  need  not  throw  your  pen  away. 

Lay  now  aside  all  thoughts  of  fame. 

To  spring  more  profitable  game. 

From  party  merit  seek  support ; 

The  vilest  verse  thrives  best  at  court* 

A pamphlet  in  Sir  Bob’s  defence 
Will  never  fail  to  bring  in  pence  : 

Nor  be  concern’d  about  the  sale. 

He  pays  his  workmen  on  the  nail. 

A prince,  the  moment  he  is  crown’d. 
Inherits  every  virtue  round, 

As  emblems  of  the  sovereign  power. 
Like  other  baubles  in  the  Tower  : 

Is  generous,  valiant,  just,  and  wise. 

And  so  continues  till  he  dies  : 

His  humble  senate  this  professes, 

In  all  their  speeches,  votes,  addresses; 
But  once  you  fix  him  in  a tomb, 

His  virtues  fade,  his  vices  bloom  ; 

And  each  perfection,  wrong  imputed. 

Is  fully  at  his  death  confuted. 

The  loads  of  poems  in  his  praise, 
Ascending,  make  one  funeral  blaze  ; 

As  soon  as  you  can  hear  his  knell, 

This  god  on  earth  turns  devil  in  hell  % 


RHAPSODY  ON  POETRY. 


And  lo  ! his  ministers  of  state, 
Transform’d  to  imps,  his  levee  wait ; 
Where,  in  the  scenes  of  endless  woe^ 
They  ply  their  former  arts  below  ; 

And  as  they  sail  in  Charon’s  boat, 
Contrive  to  bribe  the  judge’s  vote ; 

To  Cerberus  they  give  a sop, 

His  triple  barking  mouth  to  stop  ; 

Or,  in  the  ivory  gate  of  dreams 
Project  excise  and  South-sea  schemes} 
Or  hire  their  party  pamphleteers 
To  set  Elysium  by  the  ears. 

Then,  poet,  if  you  mean  to  thrive, 
Employ  your  Muse  on  kings  alive  ; 
WTith  prudence  gathering  up  a cluster 
Of  all  the  virtues  you  can  muster, 
Which  form’d  into  a garland  sweet, 

Lay  humbly  at  your  monarch’s  feet : 
Who,  as  the  odours  reach  his  throne, 
Will  smile,  and  think  them  all  his  own  } 
For  law  and  Gospel  both  determine 
All  virtues  lodge  in  royal  ermine : 

I mean  the  oracles  of  both, 

Who  shall  depose  it  upon  oath. 

Your  garland,  in  the  following  reign, 
Change  but  the  names,  will  do  again. 

But,  if  you  think  this  trade  too  base, 
(Which  seldom  is  the  dunce’s  case) 

Put  on  the  critic’s  brow,  and  sit 
At  Will’s  the  puny  judge  of  wit. 

A nod,  a shrug,  a scornful  smile, 

With  caution  used,  may  serve  awhile^ 
Proceed  no  further  in  your  part, 

Before  you  learn  the  terms  of  art ; 

For  you  can  never  be  too  far  gone 
In  all  our  modern  critics’  jargon  : 

Then  talk  with  more  authentic  face 
Of  unities  in  time  and  place  : 

Get  scraps  of  Horace  from  your  friends, 
And  have  them  at  your  fingers'  ends  ; 
Learn  Aristotle’s  rules  by  rote, 

And  at  all  hazards  boldly  quote  ; 
Judicious  Rymer  oft  review, 

Wise  Dennis,  and  profound  Bossu, 

Read  all  the  prefaces  of  Dryden, 

For  these  our  critics  much  confide  iit| 
Though  merely  writ  at  first  for  filling, 
To  raise  the  volume’s  price  a shilling, 

A forward  critic  often  dupes  us 
With  sham  quotations  jterz  hupous  : 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WQRKS. 


And  if  we  have  not  read  Longinus, 

Will  magisterially  outshine  us. 

Then,  lest  with  Greek  he  overrun  ye, 

Procure  the  book  for  love  or  money, 
Translated  from  Boileau’s  translation* 

And  quote  quotation  on  quotation. 

At  Will's  you  hear  a poem  read, 

Where  Battas  from  the  table  head. 

Reclining  on  his  elbow-chair, 

Gives  judgment  with  decisive  air ; 

To  whom  the  tribe  of  circling  wits 
As  to  an  oracle  submits. 

He  gives  directions  to  the  town, 

To  cry  it  up,  or  run  it  down  ; 

Like  courtiers,  when  they  send  a note^ 
Instructing  members  how  to  vote. 

He  sets  the  stamp  of  bad  and  good. 

Though  not  a word  be  understood. 

Your  lesson  learn’d,  you’ll  be  secure 
To  get  the  name  of  connoisseur  : 

And,  when  your  merits  once  are  known* 
Procure  disciples  of  your  own. 

For  poets  (you  can  never  want  them) 

Spread  through  Augusta  Trinobantum, 
Computing  by  their  pecks  of  coals, 

Amount  to  just  nine  thousand  souls  : 

These  o’er  their  proper  districts  govern* 

Of  wit  and  humour  judges  sovereign. 

In  every  street  a city  bard 
Rules,  like  an  alderman,  his  ward  ; 

His  indisputed  rights  extend 
Through  all  the  lane  from  end  to  end  • 

The  neighbours  round  admire  his  shrewdness 
For  songs  of  loyalty  and  lewdness  ; 

Outdone  by  none  in  rhyming  well, 

Although  he  never  learn’d  to  spell. 

Two  bordering  wits  contend  for  glory  ; 
And  one  is  whig,  and  one  is  tory  : 

And  this,  for  epics  claims  the  bays, 

And  that,  for  elegiac  lays  : 

Some  famed  for  numbers  soft  and  smooth* 

By  lovers  spoke  in  Punch’s  booth  ; 

And  some  as  justly  Fame  extols 
For  lofty  lines  in  Smithfield  drolls. 

Bavius  in  Wapping  gains  renown, 

And  Maevius  reigns  o’er  Kentish- town  5 
Tigellius  placed  in  Phoebus’  car 
From  Ludgate  shines  to  Temple-bar : 
Harmonious  Cibber  entertains 
The  court  with  annual  birthday«strains  5 


RHAPSODY  ON  POETRY. 


625 


Whence  Gay  was  banish’d  in  disgrace  $ 
Where  Pope  will  never  show  his  face  ; 
Where  Young  must  torture  his  invention 
To  flatter  knaves,  or  lose  his  pension. 

But  these  are  not  a thousandth  part 
Of  jobbers  in  the  poet’s  art, 

Attending  each  his  proper  station. 

And  all  in  due  subordination, 

Through  every  alley  to  be  found. 

In  garrets  high,  or  under  ground  ; 

And  when  they  join  their  pericranies, 

Out  skips  a book  of  miscellanies. 

Hobbes  clearly  proves,  that  every  creature 
Lives  in  a state  of  war  by  nature. 

The  greater  for  the  smaller  watch, 

But  meddle  seldom  with  their  match. 

A whale  of  moderate  size  will  draw 
A shoal  of  herrings  down  his  maw  ; 

A fox  with  geese  his  belly  crams  ; 

A wolf  destroys  a thousand  lambs  ; 

But  search  among  the  rhyming  race* 

The  brave  are  worried  by  the  base. 

If  on  Parnassus’  top  you  sit, 

You  rarely  bite,  are  always  bit : 

Bach  poet  of  inferior  size 
On  you  shall  rail  and  criticise, 

And  try  to  tear  you  limb  from  limbf 
While  others  do  as  much  for  him. 

The  vermin  only  tease  and  pinch 
Their  foes  superior  by  an  inch. 

So,  naturalists  observe,  a flea 
Has* smaller  fleas  that  on  him  prey  ; 

And  these  have  smaller  still  to  bite  ’em, 
And  so  proceed  ad  infinitum. 

Thus  every  poet,  in  his  kind, 

Is  bit  by  him  that  comes  behind  : 

Who,  though  too  little  to  be  seen, 

Can  tease,  and  gall,  and  give  the  spleen  5 
Call  dunces,  fools,  and  sons  of  whores, 
Lay  Grub-street  at  each  other’s  doors  ; 
Extol  the  Greek  and  Roman  masters, 

And  curse  our  modern  poetasters  ; 
Complain,  as  many  an  ancient  bard  did, 
How  genius  is  no  more  rewarded  ; 

How  wrong  a taste  prevails  among  us  ; , 

How  much  our  ancestors  outsung  us ; 

Can  personate  an  awkward  scorn 
For  those  who  are  not  poets  born  j 
And  all  their  brother  dunces  lash, 

Who  crowd  the  press  with  hourly  trash. 


626 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS . 


O Grub-street ! how  do  I bemoan  thee, 

Whose  graceless  children  scorn  to  own  thee  I 
Their  filial  piety  forgot, 

Deny  their  country,  like  a Scot  ; 

Though  by  their  idiom  and  grimace, 

They  soon  betray  their  native  place: 

Yet  thou  hast  greater  cause  to  be 
Ashamed  of  them,  than  they  of  thee, 

Degenerate  from  their  ancient  brood 
Since  first  the  court  allow’d  them  food. 

Remains  a difficulty  still, 

To  purchase  fame  by  writing  ill. 

From  Flecknoe  down  to  Howard’s  time, 

How  few  have  reach’d  the  low  sublime  I 
For  when  our  high-born  Howard  died, 

Blackmore  alone  his  place  supplied: 

And,  lest  a chasm  should  intervene, 

When  death  had  finish’d  Blackmore’s  reign. 

The  leaden  crown  devolved  to  thee, 

Great  poet  of  the  hollow  tree.* 

But  ah  ! how  unsecure  thy  throne  ! 

A thousand  bards  thy  right  disown : 

They  plot  to  turn,  in  factious  zeal, 

Duncenia  to  a commonweal  ; 

And  with  rebellious  arms  pretend 
An  equal  privilege  to  descend. 

In  bulk  there  are  not  more  degrees 
From  elephants  to  mites  in  cheese, 

Than  what  a curious  eye  may  trace 
In  creatures  of  the  rhyming  race. 

From  bad  to  worse,  and  worse  they  fall ; 

But  w ho  can  reach  the  worst  of  all  * 

For  though,  in  nature,  depth  and  height 
Are  equally  held  infinite  : 

In  poetry,  the  height  we  know  ; 

*Tis  only  infinite  below. 

For  instance,  when  you  rashly  think. 

No  rhymer  can  like  Welsted  sink, 

His  merits  balanced,  you  shall  find 
The  Laureate  leaves  him  far  behind. 

Concanen,  more  aspiring  bard, 

Soars  downward  deeper  by  a yard. 

Smart  Jemmy  Mooref  with  vigour  drops  \ 

The  rest  pursue  as  thick  as  hops : 

*Sir  William  Grimston,  Bart,  (created  Viscount  Grimston  and  baron  of  Dun- 
boyne  in  the  kingdom  of  Ireland,  June  3,  1719,)  wrote  a play,  when  a boy,  to 
be  acted  by  his  school-fellows,  entitled,  “The  Lawyer’s  Fortune;  or,  Love  in 
a Hollow  Tree  printed  in  4to,  1705  ; a performance  of  so  little  merit,  that, 
at  a more  advanced  period  of  life,  he  endeavoured  by  every  means  in  his  power 
to  suppress  it. — Nichols. 

t James  Moore  Smith,  author  of  “ The  Rival  Modes,”  an  unsuccessful 


RHAPSODY  ON  POETRY. 


6*7 


With  heads  to  point  the  gulf  they  enter* 

Link’d  perpendicular  to  the  centre  ; 

And  as  their  heels  elated  rise, 

Their  heads  attempt  the  nether  skies, 

O,  what  indignity  and  shame, 

To  prostitute  the  Muses’  name  ! 

By  battering  kings,  whom  heaven  design’d 
The  plagues  and  scourges  of  mankind  ; 

Bred  up  in  ignorance  and  sloth, 

And  every  vice  that  nurses  both. 

Fair  Britain,  in  thv  monarch  blest, 

Whose  virtues  bear  the  strictest  test  ; 

Whom  never  faction  could  bespatter  f 
Nor  minister  nor  poet  flatter  ; 

What  justice  in  rewarding  merit  l 
What  magnanimity  of  spirit ; 

What  lineaments  divine  we  trace 
Through  all  his  figure,  mien,  and  face  f 
Though  peace  with  olive  bind  his  hands, 

Confess’d  the  conquering  hero  stands. 

Hydaspes,  Indus,  and  the  Ganges, 

Dread  from  his  hand  impending  change* 

From  him  the4Tartar  and  Chinese, 

Short  by  the  knees,  entreat  for  peaces 
The  consort  of  his  throne  and  bed, 

A perfect  goddess  born  and  bred. 

Appointed  sovereign  judge  to  sit 
On  learning,  eloquence,  and  wit. 

Our  eldest  hope,  divine  lulus, 

* (Late,  very  late,  O may  he  rule  us  !) 

What  early  manhood  has  he  shown, 

Before  his  downy  beard  was  grown  ! 

Then  think,  what  wonders  will  be  don# 

By  going  on  as  he  begun, 

An  heir  for  Britain  to  secure 
As  long  as  sun  and  moon  endure. 

The  remnant  of  the  royal  blood 
Comes  pouring  on  me  like  a flood. 

Bright  goddesses,  in  number  five  ; 

Duke  William,  sweetest  prince  alive. 

Now  sing  the  minister  of  state, 

Who  shines  alone  without  a mate. 

Observe  with  what  majestic  port 
This  Atlas  stands  to  prop  the  court : 

Intent  the  public  debts  to  pay, 

Like  prudent  Fabius,  by  delay. 

Thou  great  vicegerent  of  the  king, 

Thy  praises  every  Muse  shall  sing  f 

tomedy,  was  chiefly  remarkable  for  his  consummate  assurance  as  a plagiarist 
See  his  character  at  large,  in  the  Dunciad.— Nichols. 


40—2 


623 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


In  all  affairs  thou  sole  director, 

Of  wit  and  learning  chief  protector ; 
Though  small  the  time  thou  hast  to  spare* 
The  church  is  thy  peculiar  care. 

Of  pious  prelates  what  a stock 
You  choose  to  rule  the  sable  flock ! 

You  raise  the  honour  of  the  peerages 
Proud  to  attend  you  at  the  steerage. 

You  dignify  the  noble  race, 

Content  yourself  with  humbler  place. 

Now  learning,  valour,  virtue,  sense. 

To  titles  give  the  sole  pretence. 

St.  George  beheld  thee  with  delight 
Vouchsafe  to  be  an  azure  knight, 

When  on  thy  breast  and  sides  Herculean* 
He  fix’d  the  star  and  string  cerulean. 

Say,  poet,  in  what  other  nation 
Shone  ever  such  a constellation? 

Attend,  ye  Popes,  and  Youngs,  and  Gays, 
And  tune  your  harps,  andstrow  your  bays  f 
Your  panegyrics  here  provide  ; 

You  cannot  err  on  flattery’s  side. 

Above  the  stars  exalt  your  sttle, 

You  still  are  low  ten  thousand  mile* 

On  Louis  all  his  bards  bestow’d 
Of  incense  many  a thousand  load  ; 

But  Europe  mortified  his  pride, 

And  swore  the  fawning  rascals  lied. 

Yet  what  the  world  refused  to  Louis, 
Applied  to  George,  exactly  true  is. 

Exactly  true  ! invidious  poet  ! 

’Tis  fifty  thousand  times  below  it. 

Translate  me  now  some  lines,  if  you  catl* 
From  Virgil,  Martial,  Ovid,  Lucan. 

They  could  all  power  in  Heaven  divide, 
And  do  no  wrong  on  either  side  ; 

They  teach  you  how  to  split  a hair, 

Give  George  and  Jove  an  equal  share. 

Yet  why  should  we  be  laced  so  straight? 

I’ll  give  my  monarch  better  weight. 

And  reason  good  ; for  many  a year 
Jove  never  intermeddled  here  : 

Nor,  though  his  priests  be  duly  paid, 

Did  ever  we  desire  his  aid  ; 

We  now  can  better  do  without  him. 

Since  Woolston  gave  us  arms  to  rout  him* 


C cetera  desuierantur. 


THE  LEGION  CLUB. 


629 


A CHARACTER,  PANEGYRIC,  AND  DESCRIPTION 
OF  THE  LEGION  CLUB. 

1736. 

AS  I stroll  the  city  oft  I 

See  a building  large  and  lofty. 

Not  a bowshot  from  the  college  ; 

Half  the  globe  from  sense  and  knowledges 
By  the  prudent  architect 
Placed  against  the  church  direct, 

Making  good  my  grandam's  jest, 

“ Near  the  church  ” — you  know  the  rest; 

Tell  us,  what  the  pile  contains  ? 

Many  a head  that  holds  no  brains. 

These  demoniacs  let  me  dub 
With  the  name  of  Legion  club. 

Such  assemblies,  you  might  swear. 

Meet  when  butchers  bait  a bear: 

Such  a noise,  and  such  haranguing, 

When  a brother  thief  is  hanging: 

Such  a rout  and  such  a rabble, 

Run  to  hear  Jack-pudding  gabble  5 
Such  a crowd  their  ordure  throws 
On  a far  less  villain's  nose. 

Could  I from  the  building's  top 
Hear  the  rattling  thunder  drop, 

While  the  devil  upon  the  roof 
(If  the  devil  be  thunder-proof) 

Should  with  poker  fiery  red 
Crack  the  stones,  and  melt  the  lead  $ 

Drive  them  down  on  every  skull, 

When  the  den  of  thieves  is  full ; 

Quite  destroy  the  harpies'  nest  : 

How  might  then  our  isle  be  blest ! 

For  divines  allow,  that  God 
Sometimes  makes  the  devil  his  rod  ; 

And  the  Gospel  will  inform  us, 

He  can  punish  sins  enormous. 

Yet  should  Swift  endow  the  schools; 

For  his  lunatics  and  fools, 

With  a rood  or  two  of  land; 

I allow  the  pile  may  stand. 

You  perhaps  will  ask  me,  Why  so* 

But  it  is  with  this  proviso  : 

Since  the  house  is  like  to  last, 

Let  the  royal  grant  be  pass'd, 


630 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


That  the  club  have  right  to  dwell 
Each  within  his  proper  cell, 

With  a passage  left  to  creep  in, 

And  a hole  above  for  peeping. 

Let  them,  when  they  once  get  in. 
Sell  the  nation  for  a pin  ; 

While  they  sit  a picking  straws, 

Let  them  rave  at  making  laws  ; 

While  they  never  hold  their  tongue^ 
Let  them  dabble  in  their  dung : 

Let  them  form  a grand  committee, 
How  to  plague  and  starve  the  city ; 
Let  them  stare,  and  storm,  and  frown 
When  they  see  a clergy  gown  ; 

Let  them,  with  their  gosling  quills, 
Scribble  senseless  heads  of  bills. 

Let  Sir  Tom,  that  rampant  ass, 
Stuff  his  guts  with  flax  and  grass  ; 
But  before  the  priest  he  fleeces, 

Tear  the  Bible  all  to  pieces  : 

At  the  parsons,  Tom,  halloo,  boy, 
Worthy  offspring  of  a shoeboy, 
Footman,  traitor,  vile  seducer, 
Perjured  rebel,  bribed  accuser, 

Lay  thy  paltry  privilege  aside, 

Sprung  from  Papists,  and  a regicide  { 
Fail  a working  like  a mole, 

Raise  the  dirt  about  your  hole. 

Come,  assist  me,  Muse  obedient ! 
Let  us  try  some  new  expedient  ; 

Shift  the  scene  for  half  an  hopr, 

Time  and  place  are  in  thy  power. 
Thither,  gentle  Muse,  conduct  me  5 
1 shall  ask,  and  you  instruct  me. 

See,  the  Muse  unbars  the  gate  ; 
Hark,  the  monkeys,  how  they  prate  ! 

All  ye  gods  who  rule  the  soul ! 

Styx,  through  Hell  whose  waters  roll  I 
Let  me  be  allow’d  to  tell 
What  I heard  in  yonder  Hell. 

Near  the  door  an  entrance  gapes, 
Crowded  round  with  antic  shapes, 
Poverty,  and  Grief,  and  Care, 
Causeless  Joy,  and  true  Despair  ; 
Discord  periwigg’d  with  snakes, 

See  the  dreadful  strides  she  takes  I 
By  this  odious  crew  beset, 

I began  to  rage  and  fret. 

And  resolved  to  break  their  pates, 

Ere  we  enter’d  at  the  gates  ; 


7 HE  LF.GION  CLUB > 


631 


Had  not  Clio  m the  nick 
Whisper’d  me,  ‘‘  Lay  down  your  stick.* 
What,  said  I,  is  this  the  madhouse? 
These,  she  answer’d,  are  but  shadows. 
Phantoms  bodiless  and  vain,  % 

Empty  visions  of  the  brain. 

In  the  porch  Briareus  stands, 

Shows  a bribe  in  all  his  hands  : 

Briareus  the  secretary, 

But  we  mortals  call  him  Carey. 

When  the  rogues  their  country  fleece, 
They  may  hope  for  pence  apiece. 

Clio,  who  had  been  so  wise 
To  put  on  a fool’s  disguise, 

To  bespeak  some  approbation, 

And  be  thought  a near  relation, 

When  she  saw  three  hundred  brutes 
All  involved  in  wild  disputes, 

Roaring  till  their  lungs  were  spent, 
Privilege  of  Parliament, 

Now  a new  misfortune  feels, 

Dreading  to  be  laid  by  th’  heels. 

Never  durst  a Muse  before 
Enter  that  infernal  door  ; 

Clio,  stifled  with  the  smell, 

Into  spleen  and  vapours  fell, 

By  the  Stygian  steams  that  flew 
From  the  dire  infectious  crew. 

Not  the  stench  of  Lake  Avernus 
Could  have  more  offended  her  nose  | 

Had  she  flown  but  o’er  the  top, 

She  had  felt  her  pinions  drop, 

And  by  exhalations  dire, 

Though  a goddess,  must  expire. 

In  a fright  she  crept  away, 

Bravely  I resolved  to  stay. 

When  I saw  the  keeper  frown, 

Tipping  him  with  half  a crown, 

Now,  said  I,  we  are  alone, 

Name  your  heroes  one  by  one. 

Who  is  that  hell-featured  brawler  ? 

Is  it  Satan?  No  ; ’tis  Waller. 

In  what  figure  can  a bard  dress 
Jack  the  grandson  of  Sir  Hardress? 
Honest  keeper,  drive  him  further, 

In  his  looks  are  Hell  and  murder  ; 

See  the  scowling  visage  drop, 

Just  as  when  he  murder’d  T — p. 

Keeper  show  me  where  to  fix 
On  the  puppy  pair  of  Dicks  : 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


6ja 

By  their  lantern  jaws  and  leathern. 

You  might  swear  they  both  are  brethren  • 
Dick  Fitzbaker,  Dick  the  player, 

Old  acquaintance,  are  you  there  ? 

Tie  them,  keeper,  in  a tether, 

Let  them  starve  and  stink  together ; 

Both  are  apt  to  be  unruly, 

Lash  them  daily,  lash  them  duly  : 

Though  ’tis  hopeless  to  reclaim  them, 
Scorpion  rods  perhaps  may  tame  them. 

Keeper,  yon  old  dotard  smoke, 

Sweetly  snoring  in  his  cloak  : 

Who  is  he  ? ’Tis  humdrum  Wynne, 

Half  encompass’d  by  his  kin  : 

There  observe  the  tribe  of  Bingham* 

For  he  never  fails  to  bring  ’em  ; 

While  he  sleeps  the  whole  debate, 

They  submissive  round  him  wait ; 

Yet  would  gladly  see  the  hunks 
In  his  grave,  and  search  his  trunks. 

See,  they  gently  twitch  his  coat. 

Just  to  yawn  and  give  his  vote, 

Always  firm  in  this  vocation, 

Fo  r the  court,  against  the  nation. 

Those  are  A — s Jack  and  Bob* 

First  in  every  wicked  job, 

Son  and  brother  to  a queer 
Brainsick  brute,  they  call  a peer. 

We  must  give  them  better  quarter* 

For  their  ancestor  trod  mortar, 

And  at  Hoath,  to  boast  his  fame, 

On  a chimney  cut  his  name. 

There  sit  Clements,  D — ks,  and  Harrison  | 
How  they  swagger  from  their  garrison ! 

Such  a triplet  could  you  tell 
Where  to  find  on  this  side  Hell? 

Harrison,  and  D — ks,  and  Clements, 

Keeper,  see  they  have  their  payments, 

Every  mischief’s  in  their  hearts : 

If  they  fail,  ;tis  want  of  parts. 

Bless  us,  Morgan,  art  thou  there,  man ! 
Bless  mine  eyes  ! art  thou  the  chairman  ! 
Chairman  to  your  damn’d  committee  ! 

Yet  I lock  on  thee  with  pity. 

Dreadful  sight ! what  learned  Morgan 
Metamorphosed  to  a Gorgon  ! 

For  thy  horrid  looks,  I own, 

Half  convert  me  to  a stone. 

Hast  thou  been  so  long’at  school 
Now  to  turn  a factious  tool? 


THE  LEGION  CLUB. 


Alma  Mater  was  thy  mother 
Every  young  divine  thy  brother* 

Thou,  a disobedient  varlet, 

Treat  thy  mother  like  a harlot ! 

Thou  ungrateful  to  thy  teachers. 

Who  are  all  grown  reverend  preachers  I 
Morgan,  would  it  not  surprise  one  I 
Turn  thy  nourishment  to  poison  ! 

When  you  walk  among  your  books, 

They  reproach  you  with  their  looks  ; 

Bind  them  fast,  or  from  their  shelves 
They  will  come  and  right  themselves  $ 
Homer,  Plutarch,  Virgil,  Fiaccus, 

All  in  arms,  prepare  to  back  us; 

Soon  repent,  or  put  to  slaughter 
Every  Greek  and  Roman  author. 

Will  you,  in  your  faction’s  phrase. 

Send  the  clergy  all  to  graze  ; 

And  to  make  your  project  pass, 

Leave  them  not  a blade  of  grass  ? 

How  I want  thee,  humorous  Hogarth  f 
Thou,  I hear,  a pleasant  rogue  art. 

Were  but  you  and  I acquainted, 

Every  Monster  should  be  painted  • 

You  should  try  your  graving  tools 
On  this  odious  group  of  Fools  ; 

Draw  the  beasts  as  I describe  them  ; 

Form  their  features  while  I gibe  them; 
Draw  them  like ; for,  I assure  you, 

You  will  need  no  caricatura  ; 

Draw  them  so,  that  we  may  trace 
All  the  soul  in  every  face. 

Keeper,  I must  now  retire, 

You  have  done  what  I desire  : 

But  I feel  my  spirits  spent 
With  the  noise,  the  sight,  the  scent. 

“ Pray  be  patient ; you  shall  find 
Half  the  best  are  still  behind  ! 

You  have  hardly  seen  a score  ; 

I can  show  two  hundred  more.” 

Keeper,  I have  seen  enough. 

Taking  then  a pinch  of  snuff, 

I concluded,  looking  round  them, 

* May  their  god,  the  devil,  confound  themP 


634 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


ON  A PRINTER’S  BEING  SENT  TO  NEWGATE. 

BETTER  we  all  were  in  our  graves, 

Than  live  in  slavery  to  slaves ; 

Worse  than  the  anarchy  at  sea, 

Where  fishes  on  each  other  prey  ; 

Where  every  trout  can  make  as  high  rants 
O’er  his  inferiors,  as  our  tyrants  ; 

And  swagger  while  the  coast  is  clear  ; 

But,  should  a lordly  pike  appear, 

Away  you  see  the  varlet  scud, 

Or  hide  his  coward  snout  in  mud. 

Thus,  if  a gudgeon  meet  a roach, 

He  dare  not  v.enture  to  approach  ; 

Yet  still  has  impudence  to  rise, 

And,  like  Domitian,  leap  at  flies. 


THE  DAY  OF  JUDGMENT. 

WITH  a whirl  of  thought  oppress’d, 

I sunk  from  reverie  to  rest. 

A horrid  vision  seized  my  head, 

I saw  the  graves  give  up  their  dead 
Jove,  arm’d  with  terrors,  bursts  the  skies, 
And  thunder  roars  and  lightning  flies ! 
Amazed,  confused,  its  late  unknown, 

The  world  stands  trembling  at  his  throne ! 
While  each  pale  sinner  hung  his  head, 

Jove,  nodding,  shook  the  heavens,  and  said \ 
“ Offending  race  of  human  kind, 

By  nature,  reason,  learning,  blind  ; 

You  who,  through  frailty,  stepp’d  aside : 

And  you,  who  never  fell  from  pride  : 

You  who  in  different  sects  were  shamm’d, 
And  come  to  see  each  other  damn’d 
(So  some  folk  told  you,  but  they  knew 
No  more  of  Jove’s  designs  than  you); 

— The  world’s  mad  business  now  is  o’er*  % 
And  I resent  these  pranks  no  more. 

— I to  such  blockheads  set  my  wit  ! 

I damn  such  fools  ! — Go,  go,  you’re  bit.* 


4 


*3S 


THE  DESCRIPTION  OF  A SALAMANDER.* 
1705. 

AS  mastiff  dogs  in  modern  phrase  are 
Call’d  Pompey , Scipio  and  C cesar; 

As  pies  and  daws  are  often  styled 
With  Christian  nicknames,  like  a child  J 
As  we  say  Monsieur  to  an  ape. 

Without  offence  to  human  shape  ; 

So  men  have  got,  from  bird  and  brute, 

Names  that  would  best  their  nature  suit. 

The  Lion,  Eagle , Fox,  and  Boar% 

Were  heroes’  titles  heretofore, 

Bestow’d  as  hieroglyphics  fit 

To  show  their  valour,  strength,  or  wit  J 

For  what  is  understood  by  fame, 

Beside  the  getting  of  a name  ? 

But,  e’er  since  men  invented  guns, 

A different  way  their  fancy  runs : 

To  paint  a Hero,  we  inquire 
F or  something  that  will  conquer  fire . 

Would  you  describe  Turenne  or  Trump  t 
Think  of  a bucket  or  a pump . 

Are  these  too  low  ? — then  find  out  grander* 

Call  my  lord  Cutts  a Salamander . 

’Tis  well; — but  since  we  live  among 
Detractors  with  an  evil  tongue, 

Who  may  object  against  the  term, 

Pliny  shall  prove  what  we  affirm: 

Pliny  shall  prove,  and  we’ll  apply, 

And  I’ll  be  judged  by-standers  by. 

First,  then,  our  author  has  defined 
This  reptile  of  the  serpent  kind, 

With  gaudy  coat  and  shining  train: 

But  loathsome  spots  his  body  stain: 

Out  from  some  hole  obscure  he  flies, 

When  rains  descend,  and  tempests  rise. 

Till  the  sun  clears  the  air  ; and  then 
Crawls  back  neglected  to  his  den. 

So,  when  the  war  has  raised  a storm, 

IVe  seen  a snake  in  human  form, 

All  stainld  with  infamy  and  vice, 

Leap  from  the  dunghill  in  a trice, 

Burnish,  and  make  a gaudy  show, 

Become  a general,  peer,  and  beau, 

Till  peace  has  made  the  sky  serene  ; 

Then  shrink  into  its  hole  again. 

• From  Pliny,  Nat.  Hist.  lib.  x.  c.  67,  lib.  xxix.  c.  4. 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


*'  All  this  we  grant — why  then  look  yonde^ 
Sure  that  must  be  a Salamander  i” 

Further,  we  are  by  Pliny  told, 

This  serpent  is  extremely  cold  ; 

So  cold  that  put  it  in  the  fire, 

’Twill  make  the  very  flames  expire: 

Besides,  it  spews  a filthy  froth 
(Whether  through  rage  or  love,  or  both) 

Of  matter  purulent  and  white, 

Which,  happening  on  the  skin  to  light. 

And  there  corrupting  to  a wound, 

Spreads  leprosy  and  baldness  round. 

So  have  I seen  a batter'd  beau, 

By  age  and  claps  grown  cold  as  snow, 

Whose  breath  or  touch,  where'er  he  came, 
Blew  out  love's  torch,  or  chill’d  the  flame : 
And  should  some  nymph,  who  ne'er  was  cruel. 
Like  Carleton  cheap,  or  famed  Du-Ruel, 
Receive  the  filth  which  he  ejects, 

She  soon  would  find  the  same  effects, 

Her  tainted  carcase  to  pursue, 

As  from  the  salamander’s  spew; 

A dismal  shedding  of  her  locks, 

And,  if  no  leprosy,  a pox. 

4‘  Then  I'll  appeal  to  each  by-standcr, 

If  this  be  not  a Salamander  ?” 


TO  THE  EARL  OF  PETERBOROUGH, 

WHO  COMMANDED  THE  BRITISH  FORCES  IN  SPAIN’. 

MORDANTO  fills  the  trump  of  fame, 

The  Christian  worlds  his  deeds  proclain% 
And  prints  are  crowded  with  his  name. 

In  journeys  he  outrides  the  post, 

Sits  up  till  midnight  with  his  host, 

Talks  politics,  and  gives  the  toast. 

Knows  every  prince  in  Europe's  face* 

Flies  like  a squib  from  place  to  place. 

And  travels  not,  but  runs  a race. 

From  Paris  gazette  a-la-main, 

This  day  arrived  without  his  train 
Mordanto  in  a week  from  Spain. 

A messenger  comes  all  a-reek 
Mordanto  at  Madrid  to  seek; 

He  left  the  town  above  a week. 


TO  THE  EARL  OF  PETERBOROUGH \ 


Next  day  the  post-boy  winds  his  horn. 
And  rides  through  Dover  in  the  morn: 
Mordanto’s  landed  from  Leghorn. 

Mordanto  gallops  on  alone, 

The  roads  are  with  his  followers  strown. 
This  breaks  a girth,  and  that  a bone  ; 

His  body  active  as  his  mind,  j 

Returning  sound  in  limb  and  wind. 

Except  some  leather  lost  behind. 

A skeleton  in  outward  figure, 

His  meagre  corpse,  though  full  of  vigour, 
Would  halt  behind  him  were  it  bigger. 

So  wonderful  his  expedition, 

When  you  have  not  the  least  suspicion. 
He’s  with  you  like  an  apparition. 

Shines  in  all  climates  like  a star 
In  senates  bold,  and  fierce  in  war; 

A land  commander,  and  a tar:  » 

Heroic  actions  early  bred  in, 

Ne’er  to  be  match’d  in  modern  reading, 

But  by  his  namesake  Charles  of  Sweaen. 


A LOVE  POEM. 

FROM  A PHYSICIAN  TO  HIS  MISTRESS, 
Written  at  London. 

BY  poets  we  are  well  assured 

That  love,  alas  ! can  ne’er  be  cured  § 
A complicated  heap  of  ills, 

Despising  boluses  and  pillsv 
Ah  ! Chloe,  this  I find  is  true, 

Since  first  I gave  mv  heart  to  you. 

Now,  by  your  cruelty  hard  bound, 

I strain  my  guts,  my  colon  wound. 

Now  jealousy,  my  grumbling  tripes 
Assaults  with  grating,  grinding  gripes. 
When  pity  in  those  eyes  I view, 

My  bowels  wambling  make  me  spew* 

When  I an  amorous  kiss  design’d, 

I belch’d  a hurricane  of  wind. 

Once  you  a gentle  sigh  let  fall ; 

Remember  how  I suck’d  it  all : 

What  cholic  pangs  from  thence  I felt, 

Had  you  but  known,  your  heart  would  melt* 


63S 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


Like  ruffling  winds  in  caverns  pent, 

Till  Nature  pointed  out  a vent. 

# How  have  you  torn  my  heart  to  pieces 
With  maggots,  humours,  and  caprices  I 
By  which  I got  the  hemorrhoids  ; 

And  loathsome  worms  my  anus  voids. 
Whene’er  I hear  a rival  named, 

I feel  my  body  all  inflamed; 

Which,  breaking  out  in  boils  and  blains. 
With  yellow  filth  my  linen  stains ; 

Or,  parch’d  with  unextinguish’d  thirst, 
Small  beer  I guzzle  till  I burst ; 

And  then  I drag  a bloated  corpus , 
Swell’d  with  a dropsy,  like  a porpoise  ; 
When,  if  I cannot  purge  or  stale, 

I must  be  tapp’d  to  fill  a pail. 


THE  STORM. 

MINERVA’S  PETITION. 

PALLAS,  a goddess  chaste  and  wise, 
Descending  lately  from  the  skies, 

To  Neptune  went,  and  begg’d  in  form 
He’d  give  his  orders  for  a storm  ; 

A storm,  to  drown  that  rascal  Horte, 

And  she  would  kindly  thank  him  for’t: 

A wretch ! whom  English  rogues,  to  spite  her. 
Had  lately  honour’d  with  a mitre 
The  god,  who  favour’d  her  request, 
Assured  her  he  would  do  his  best: 

But  Venus  had  been  there  before, 

Pleaded  the  bishop  loved  a whore, 

And  had  enlarged  her  empire  wide; 

He  own’d  no  dejty  beside. 

At  sea  or  land,  if  e’er  you  found  him 
Without  a mistress,  hang  or  drown  him. 
Since  Burnet’s  death,  the  bishops’  bench, 
Till  Horte  arrived,  ne’er  kept  a wench  ; 

If  Horte  must  sink,  she  grieves  to  tell  it, 
She’ll  not  have  left  one  single  prelate  ; 

For,  to  say  truth,  she  did  intend  him, 

Elect  of  Cyprus  in  commendam . 

And,  since  her  birth  the  ocean  gave  her, 

She  could  not  doubt  her  uncle’s  favour. 

Then  Proteus  urged  the  same  request, 

But  half  in  earnest,  half  in  jest  ; 

Said  he — “ Great  sovereign  of  the  main, 

To  drown  him  all  attempts  are  vain. 


THE  STORM. 


*39 


Horte  can  assume  more  forms  than  I, 

A rake,  a bully,  pimp,  or  spy  ; 

Can  creep  or  run,  or  fly  or  swim  ; 

All  motions  are  alike  to  him: 

Turn  him  adrift,  and  you  shall  find 
He  knows  to  sail  with  every  wind  ; 

Or,  throw  him  overboard,  he’ll  ride 
As  well  against  as  with  the  tide. 

But,  Pallas,  you’ve  applied  too  late  ; 

For  ’tis  decreed,  by  Jove  and  Fatj, 

That  Ireland  must  be  soon  destroy’d, 

And  who  but  Horte  can  be  employ’d  ? 

You  need  not  then  have  been  so  pert, 

In  sending  Bolton*  to  Clonfert. 

I found  you  did  it,  by  your  grinning  ; 

Your  business  is  to  mind  your  spinning. 

But  how  you  came  to  interpose 
In  making  bishops,  no  one  knows: 

Or  who  regarded  your  report ; 

For  never  were  you  seen  at  court. 

And  if  you  must  have  your  petition, 

There’s  Berkeleyt  in  the  same  condition  f 
Look,  there  he  stands,  and ’tis  but  just, 

If  one  must  drown  the  other  must  ; 

But,  if  you’ll  leave  us  Bishop  Judas, 

We’ll  give  you  Berkeley  for  Bermudas. 

Now,  if ’twill  gratify  your  spite, 

To  put  him  in  a plaguy  fright, 

Although  ’tis  hardly  worth  the  cost, 

You  soon  shall  see  him  soundly  tost* 

You’ll  find  him  swear,  blaspheme,  and  damn 
(And  every  moment  take  a dram) 

His  ghastly  visage  with  an  air 
Of  reprobation  and  despair: 

Or  else  some  hiding-hole  he  seeks, 

For  fear  the  rest  should  say  he  squeaks  5 
Or,  as  FitzpatrickJ  did  before, 

Resolve  to  perish  with  his  whore  ; 

Or  else  he  raves,  and  roars,  and  swears, 

And,  but  for  shame,  would  say  his  prayers. 
Or,  would  you  see  his  spirits  sink, 

Relaxing  downwards  in  a stink? 

If  such  a sight  as  this  can  please  ye, 

Good  madam  Pallas,  pray  be  easy, 

To  N eptune  speak,  and  he’ll  consent ; 

But  he’ll  come  back  the  knave  he  went. 


• Afterwards  Archbishop  of  Cashell. 

f Dr.  George  Berkeley,  Dean  of  Derry,  and  afterwards  Bishop  of  Cloyne. 
t Brigadier  Fitzpatrick  was  drowned  in  one  of  the  packet-boats  in  the  bay 
of  Dublin,  in  a great  storm. 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


The  goddess,  who  conceived  a hope 
That  Horte  was  destined  to  a rope. 
Believed  it  best  to  condescend 
To  spare  a foe,  to  save  a friend: 

But,  fearing  Berkeley  might  be  scarr’d. 
She  left  him  virtue  for  a guard. 


WHO  DESIRED  THE  AUTHOR  TO  WRITE  SOME  VERSES 


UPON  HER  IN  THE  HEROIC  STYLE. 
FTER  venting  all  my  spite, 


Tell  me,  what  have  I to  write? 
Every  error  I could  find 
Through  the  mazes  of  your  mind. 
Have  my  busy  Muse  employ’d. 

Till  the  company  was  cloy’d. 

Are  you  positive  and  fretful. 

Heedless,  ignorant,  forgetful? 

Those,  and  twenty  follies  more* 

I have  often  told  before. 

Hearken  what  my  lady  says  : 

Have  I nothing  then  to  praise? 

Ill  it  fits  you  to  be  witty. 

Where  a fault  should  move  your  pity. 
If  you  think  me  too  conceited, 

Or  to  passion  quickly  heated  ; 

If  my  wandering  head  be  less 
Set  on  reading  than  on  dress  ; 

If  I always  seem  too  dull  t’  ye  ; 

I can  solve  the  diffi — culty. 

You  would  teach  me  to  be  wises 
Truth  and  honour  how  to  prize  ; 

How  to  shine  in  conversation, 

And  with  credit  fill  my  station  ; 

How  to  relish  notions  high  ; 

How  to  live  and  how  to  die. 

But  it  was  decreed  by  Fate, 

Mr.  Dean,  you  come  too  late. 

Well  I know  you  can  discern, 

I am  now  too  old  to  learn  : 

Follies,  from  my  youth  instill’d. 

Have  my  soul  entirely  fill’d  ; 

In  my  head  and  heart  they  centre* 
Nor  will  let  your  lessons  enter. 

Bred  a fondling  and  an  heiress  ; 
Dress’d  like  any  lady  mayoress  : 


TO  A LADY, 


TO  A LADY. 


Cockered  by  the  servants  round, 

Was  too  good  to  touch  the  ground  J 
Thought  the  life  of  every  lady 
Should  be  one  continued  play-day— 

Balls,  and  masquerades,  and  shows* 

Visits,  plays,  and  powder'd  beaux. 

Thus  you  have  my  case  at  large, 

And  may  now  perform  your  charge; 

Those  materials  I have  furnish’d, 

When  by  you  refined  and  burnish'd, 

Must,  that  all  the  world  may  know  'em* 

Be  reduced  into  a poem. 

But,  1 beg,  suspend  a while 
That  same  paltry,  burlesque  style  ; 

Drop  for  once  your  constant  rule, 

Turning  all  to  ridicule  ; 

Teaching  others  how  to  ape  you  ; 

Court  nor  Parliament  can  'scape  you  J 
Treat  the  public  and  your  friends 
Both  alike,  while  neither  mends. 

Sing  my  praise  in  strain  sublime  ; 

Treat  me  not  with  doggrel  rhyme: 

*Tis  but  just,  you  should  produce, 

With  each  fault,  each  fault's  excuse  ; 

Not  to  publish  every  trifle, 

And  my  few  perfections  stifle. 

With  some  gifts  at  least  endow  me* 

Which  my  very  foes  allow  me. 

Am  I spiteful,  proud,  unjust  ? 

Did  I ever  break  my  trust  ? 

Which  of  all  our  modern  dames 
Censures  less,  or  less  defames  ? 

In  good  manners  am  1 faulty  ? 

Can  you  call  me  rude  or  haughty? 

Did  I e'er  my  mite  withhold 
From  the  impotent  and  old? 

When  did  ever  I omit 
Due  regard  for  men  of  wit  ? 

When  have  I esteem  express'd 
For  a coxcomb  gaily  dress’d? 

Do  I,  like  the  female  tribe, 

Think  it  wit  to  fleer  and  gibe? 

Who  with  less  designing  ends 
Kindlier  entertains  her  friends  • 

With  good  words  and  countenance  sprightly, 
Strives  to  treat  them  more  politely? 

Think  not  cards  my  chief  diversion  ; 

*Tis  a wrong,  unjust  aspersion  : 

Never  knew  I any  good  in  'em, 

But  to  dose  my  head  like  laudanum. 


4* 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 

We,  by  play,  as  men,  by  drinking, . 

Pass  our  nights,  to  drive  out  thinking# 
From  my  ailments  give  me  leisure, 

I shall  read  and  think  with  pleasure  | 
Conversation  learn  to  relish, 

And  with  books  my  mind  embellish* 

Now,  methinks,  I hear  you  cry, 

Mr.  Dean,  you  must  reply. 

Madam,  I allow  kis  true  : 

All  these  praises  are  your  due. 

You,  like  some  acute  philosopher, 

Every  fault  have  drawn  a gloss  over} 
Placing  in  the  strongest  light 
All  your  virtue  to  my  sight. 

Though  you  lead  a blameless  life. 

Are  an  humble  prudent  wife, 

Answer  all  domestic  ends  ; 

What  is  this  to  us  your  friends  ? 

Though  your  children  by  a nod 
Stand  in  awe  without  a rod  ; 

Though,  by  your  obliging  sway. 

Servants  love  you,  and  obey  ; 

Though  you  treat  us  with  a smile  ; 

Clear  your  looks,  and  smooth  your  stylo 
Load  our  plates  from  every  dish  ; 

This  is  not  the  thing  we  wish. 

Colonel  * * * * may  be  your  debtor  ; 

We  expect  employment  better. 

You  must  learn,  if  you  would  gain  us. 
With  good  sense  to  entertain  us. 

Scholars,  when  good  sense  describing^ 
Call  it  tasting  and  imbibing  : 

Metaphoric  meat  and  drink 
Is  to  understand  and  think:  * 

We  may  carve  for  others  thus  ; 

And  let  others  carve  for  us  ; 

To  discourse  and  to  attend, 

'Is,  to  help  yourself  and  friend. 
Conversation  is  but  carving  ; 

Carve  for  all,  yourself  is  starving} 

Give  no  more  to  every  guest, 

Than  he’s  able  to  digest ; 

Give  him  always  of  the  prime  ; 

And  but  little  at  a time. 

Carve  to  all  but  just  enough  : 

Let  them  neither  starve  nor  stuff  3 
And,  that  you  may  have  your  due* 

Let  your  neighbours  carve  for  you* 

This  comparison  will  hold, 

Could  it  well  in  rhyme  be  told. 


TO  A LADY. 


643 


How  conversing,  listening,  thinking. 
Justly  may  resemble  drinking ; 

For  a friend  a glass  you  fill. 

What  is  this  but  to  instil  ? 

To  conclude  this  long  essay  ; 

Pardon  if  I disobey  ; 

Nor  against  my  natural  vein. 

Treat  you  in  heroic  strain. 

I,  as  all  the  parish  knows, 

Hardly  can  be  grave  in  prose  : 

Still  to  lash,  and  lashing  smile, 

111  befits  a lofty  style. 

From  the  planet  of  my  birth 
I encounter  vice  with  mirth. 

Wicked  ministers  of  state 
I can  easier  scorn  than  hate  ; 

And  I find  it  answers  right : 

Scorn  torments  them  more  than  spiteu 
All  the  vices  of  a court 
Do  but  serve  to  make  me  sport 
Were  I in  some  foreign  realm, 

Which  all  vices  overwhelm  ; 

Should  a monkey  wear  a crown, 

Must  I tremble  at  his  frown  ? 

Could  I not,  through  ail  his  ermine, 

Spy  the  strutting  chattering  vermin 
Safely  write  a smart  lampoon, 

To  expose  the  brisk  baboon  ? 

When  my  muse  officious  ventures 
On  the  nation’s  representers  : 

Teaching  by  what  golden  rules 
Into  knaves  they  turn  their  fools  : 

How  the  helm  is  ruled  by  Walpole, 

At  whose  oars,  like  slaves  they  all  pull  f 
Let  the  vessel  split  on  shelves  ; 

With  the  freight  enrich  themselves  \ 
Safe  within  my  little  wherry, 

All  their  madness  makes  me  merry  % 
Like  the  watermen  of  Thames, 

I row  by,  and  call  them  names  ; 

Like  the  ever-laughing  sage, 

In  a jest  I spend  my  rage  : 

(Though  it  must  be  understood, 

I would  hang  them  if  I could) 

If  I can  but  fill  my  niche, 

I attempt  no  higher  pitch"; 

Leave  to  D’Anvers  and  his  mate 
Maxims  wise  to  rule  the  state. 

Pultoney  deep,  accomplish’d  St.  Johns, 
Scourge  the  villains  with  a vengeance  : 


4X-J 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


Let  me,  though  the  smell  be  noisome, 

Strip  their  bums  ; let  Caleb  * hoise  ’em  % 

Then  apply  Alecto’s  whip, 

Till  they  wriggle,  howl,  and  skip. 

Deuce  is  in  you,  Mr.  Dean, 

What  can  all  this  passion  mean  ? 

Mention  courts  ! you’ll  ne’er  be  quiet 
On  corruption’s  running  riot. 

End  as  it  befits  your  station  : 

Come  to  use  and  application  : 

Nor  with  senates  keep  a fuss. 

1 submit ; and  answer  thus  : 

If  the  machinations  brewing. 

To  complete  the  public  ruin, 

Never  once  could  have  the  power 
To  affect  me  half  an  hour  ; 

Sooner  would  I write  in  buskins, 

Mournful  elegies  on  Blueskins.f 
If  I laugh  at  whig  and  tory  ; 

I conclude  a fortiori , 

All  your  eloquence  will  scarce 
Drive  me  from  my  favourite  farc& 

This  I must  insist  on  : for,  as 
It  is  well  observed  by  Horace,! 

Ridicule  has  greater  power 
To  reform  the  world  than  sour. 

Horses  thus,  let  jockeys  judge  else. 

Switches  better  guide  than  cudgels. 

Bastings  heavy,  dry,  obtuse, 

Only  dulness  can  produce  ; 

While  a little  gentle  jerking 
Sets  the  spirits  all  a- working. 

Thus,  I find  it  by  experiment, 

Scolding  moves  you  less  than  merriment. 

I may  storm  and  rage  in  vain  \ 

It  but  stupefies  your  brain. 

But  with  raillery  to  nettle, 

Sets  your  thoughts  upon  their  mettle  ; 

Gives  imagination  scope  ; 

Never  lets  your  mind  elope ; 

Drives  out  brangling  and  contention. 

Brings  in  reason  and  invention. 

For  your  sake,  as  well  as  mine, 

I the  lofty  style  decline. 

I should  make  a figure  scurvy, 

And  your  head  turn  topsy-turvy. 

# Caleb  D’ Anvers  was  the  name  assumed  by  Amhurst,  the  ostensible  writer 
of  the  Craftsman. 

+ The  famous  thief,  who,  while  on  his  trial  at  the  Old  Bailey,  stabbed 
Jonathan  Wild. 

{ “ Ridiculum  acri,  &C.” 


TO  A LADY. 


*45 


I,  who  love  to  have  a fling 
Both  at  senate-house  and  king': 

That  they  might  some  better  way  tread. 
To  avoid  the  public  hatred  ; 

Thought  no  method  more  commodious, 
Than  to  show  their  vices  odious  ; 

Which  I chose  to  make  appear, 

Not  by  anger,  but  by  sneer. 

As  my  method  of  reforming, 

Is  by  laughing,  not  by  storming, 

(For  my  friends  have  always  thought 
Tenderness  my  greatest  fault) 

Would  you  have  me  change  my  style? 
On  your  faults  no  longer  smile  ; 

But,  to  patch  up  all  our  quarrels, 

Quote  you  texts  from  Plutarch’s  Morals: 
Or  from  Solomon  produce 
Maxims  teaching  Wisdom’s  use  ? 

If  I treat  you  like  a crown’d  head, 

You  have  cheap  enough  compounded; 
Can  you  put  in  higher  claims, 

Than  the  owners  of  St.  James  ? 

You  are  not  so  great  a grievance 
As  the  hirelings  of  St.  Stephen’s. 

You  are  of  a lower  class 

Than  my  friend  Sir  Robert  Brass. 

None  of  these  have  mercy  found  : 

I have  laugh’d,  and  lash’d  them  round. 

Have  you  seen  a rocket  fly  ? 

You  would  swear  it  pierced  the  sky: 

It  but  reach’d  the  middle  air, 

Bursting  into  pieces  there  ; 

Thousand  sparkles  falling  down 
Light  on  many  a coxcomb’s  crown. 

See  what  mirth  the  sport  creates  ! 

Singes  hair,  but  breaks  no  pates. 

Thus,  should  I attempt  to  climb, 

Treat  you  in  a style  sublime, 

Such  a rocket  is  my  Muse  : 

Should  I lofty  numbers  choose, 

Ere  I reach’d  Parnassus’  top, 

I should  burst,  and  bursting  drop  } 

All  my  fire  would  fall  in  scraps, 

Give  your  head  some  gentle  raps ; 

Only  make  it  smart  awhile  ; 

Then  could  I forbear  to  smile, 

When  I found  the  tingling  pain 
Entering  warm  your  frigid  brain, 

Make  you  able  upon  sight 
To  decide  of  wrong  and  right ; 


m 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


Talk  with  sense  whate’er  you  please  OQJ 
Learn  to  relish  truth  and  reason ! 

Thus  we  both  shall  gain  our  prize  • 

1 to  laugh,  and  you  grow  wise; 


TO  DR.  SHERIDAN,  1718. 

WHATEVER  your  predecessors  taught  tl% 

I have  a great  esteem  for  Plautus  ; 

And  think  your  boys  may  gather  there-henco 
More  wit  and  humour  than  from  Terence  ; 

But  as  to  Comic  Aristophanes, 

The  rogue  too  vicious  and  too  profane  is. 

I went  in  vain  to  look  for  Eupolis 

Down  in  the  Strand,*  just  where  the  New  Pole  is  J 

For  I can  tell  you  one  thing,  that  I can. 

You  will  not  find  it  in  the  Vatican. 

He  and  Cratinus  used,  as  Horace  says, 

To  take  his  greatest  grandees  for  asses. 

Poets,  in  those  days,  used  to  venture  high; 

But  these  are  lost  full  many  a century. 

Thus  you  may  see,  dear  friend,  ex  pede  hence* 

My  judgment  of  the  old  comedians. 

Proceed  to  tragics  : first  Euripides 
(An  author  where  I sometimes  dip  a-days) 

Is  rightly  censured  by  the  Stagirite, 

Who  says,  his  numbers  do  not  fadge  aright^ 

A friend  of  mine  that  author  despises 
So  much,  he  swears  the  very  best  piece  is. 

For  aught  he  knows,  as  bad  as  Thespis’s  ; 

And  that  a woman,  in  these  tragedies, 

Commonly  speaking,  but  a sad  jade  is. 

At  least,  Pm  well  assured  that  no  folk  lays 
The  weight  on  him  they  do  on  Sophocles. 

But,  above  all,  I prefer  ^Eschylus, 

Whose  moving  touches,  when  they  please,  kill  u& 

And  now  I find  my  Muse  but  ill  able, 

To  hold  out  longer  in  trisyllable. 

I chose  those  rhymes  out  for  their  difficulty  ; 

Will  you  return  as  hard  ones  if  I call  t’ye  ? 

• The  fact  may  not  be  true  3 but  the  rhyme  cost  me  some  trouble* 


APOLLO S EDICT. 


APOLLO’S  EDICT. 

OCCASIONED  BY  14  NEWS  FROM  PARNASSUS." 

IRELAND  is  now  our  royal  care, 

We  lately  fix’d  our  viceroy  there  $ 
How  near  was  she  to  be  undone. 

Till  pious  love  inspired  her  son  1 
What  cannot  our  vicegerent  do, 

As  poet  and  as  patriot  too  ? 

Let  his  success  our  subjects  sway. 

Our  inspirations  to  obey, 

And  follow  where  he  leads  the  way  5 
Then  study  to  correct  your  taste  ; 

Nor  beaten  paths  be  longer  traced. 

No  simile  shall  be  begun, 

With  rising  or  with  setting  sun  : 

And  let  the  secret  head  of  Nils 
Be  ever  banish’d  from  your  isle. 

When  wretched  lovers  live  on  air, 

I beg  you’ll  the  chameleon  spare  ; 

And  when  you’d  make  a hero  grander. 
Forget  he’s  like  a salamander. 

No  son  of  mine  shall  dare  to  say, 
Aurora  usher’d  in  the  day, 

Or  ever  name  the  Milky-way. 

You  all  agree,  I make  no  doubt, 

Elijah’s  mantle  is  worn  out. 

The  bird  of  Jove  shall  toil  no  more 
To  teach  the  humble  wren  to  soar. 

Your  tragic  heroes  shall  not  rant, 

Nor  shepherds  use  poetic  cant. 

Simplicity  alone  can  grace 
The  manners  of  the  rural  race. 

Theocritus  and  Philips  be. 

Your  guides  to  true  simplicity. 

When  Damon’s  soul  shall  take  its  flight* 
Though  poets  have  the  second  sight, 

They  shall  not  see  a trail  of  light. 

Nor  shall  the  vapours  upwards  rise, 

Nor  a new  star  adorn  the  skies  ; 

For  who  can  hope  to  place  one  there^ 

As  glorious  as  Belinda’s  hair  ? 

Yet,  if  his  name  you’d  eternize, 

And  must  exalt  him  to  the  skies  ; 

Without  a star  this  may  be  done  : 

So  Tickell  mourn’d  his  Addison. 

If  Anna’s  happy  reign  you  praise. 

Pray,  not  a word  oi  halcyon  days  j 


1720* 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


Nor  let  my  votaries  show  their  skill 
In  aping  lines  from  Cooper’s  Hill ; 

For  know  I cannot  bear  to  hear 
The  mimicry  of  deep,  yet  clear. 

Whene’er  my  viceroy  is  address’d, 
Against  the  phoenix  I protest. 

When  poets  soar  in  youthful  strains, 

Ho  Phaeton  to  hold  the  reins. 

When  you  describe  a lovely  girl, 

No  lips  of  coral,  teeth  of  pearl. 

Cupid  shall  ne’er  mistake  another. 
However  beauteous,  for  his  mother ; 

Nor  shall  his  darts  at  random  fly 
From  magazine  in  Celia’s  eye. 

With  woman  compounds  I am  cloy’d. 
Which  only  pleased  in  Biddy  Floyd. 

For  foreign  aid  what  need  they  roam, 
Whom  fate  has  amply  blest  at  home  ? 

Unerring  Heaven,  with  bounteous  hand. 
Has  form’d  a model  for  your  land, 

Whom  Jove  endow’d  with  very  grace  ; 

The  glory  of  the  Granard  race  ; 

Now  destined  by  the  powers  divine 
The  blessing  of  another  line. 

Then,  would  you  paint  a matchless  dame^ 
Whom  you’d  consign  to  endless  fame  ? 
Invoke  not  Cytherea’s  aid, 

Nor  borrow  from  the  blue-eyed  maid  $ 

Nor  need  you  on  the  Graces  call ; 

Take  qualities  from  Donegal. 


PART  OP  A SUMMER  SPENT  AT  GAULSTOWN  HOUSE,  THE  SEAT 
OF  GEORGE  ROCHFORT,  ESQ. 


How  George,*  Nim,f  Dan,J  Dean.§  pass  their  days 
And,  should  our  Gaulstown’s  art  grow  fallow, 

Yet  Neget  quis  carniinci  Gallo  ? 

Here  (by  the  way)  by  Gallus  mean  I 
Not  Sheridan,  but  friend  Delany. 

Begin,  my  Muse.  First  from  our  bowers 
We  sally  forth  at  different  hours  ; 

At  seven  the  Dean,  in  night-gown  drest, 

Goes  round  the  house  to  wake  the  rest ; 

* Mr.  Rochfort. 

t His  brother,  Mr.  John  Rochfort ; who  was  called  Nimrod,  from  his 
great  attachment  to  the  chase. 

+ Rev,  Daniel  Jackson.  $ Dean  Swift. 


THE  COUNTRY  LIFE. 


‘HALIA,  tell  in  sober  lays, 


THE  COUNTRY  LIFE. 


*49 


At  nine,  grave  Nim  and  George  facetious 
Go  to  the  Dean,  to  read  Lucretius  ; 

At  ten,  my  Lady  comes  and  hectors, 

And  kisses  George,  and  ends  our  lectures ; 
And  when  she  has  him  by  the  neck  fast, 
Hales  him,  and  scolds  us  down  to  breakfast. 
We  squander  there  an  hour  or  more, 

And  then  all  hands,  boys,  to  the  oar ; 

All,  heteroclite  Dan  except, 

Who  neither  time  nor  order  kept, 

But  by  peculiar  whimsies  drawn, 

Peeps  in  the  ponds  to  look  for  spawn  $ 
Oversees  the  work,  or  Dragon*  rows, 

Or  mars  a text,  or  mends  his  hose  ; 

Or — but  proceed  we  in  our  journal  — 

At  two,  or  after,  we  return  all  : 

From  the  four  elements  assembling, 

Warn'd  by  the  bell,  all  folks  come  trembling  : 
From  airy  garrets  some  descend, 

Some  from  the  lake's  remotest  end  ; 

My  lord t and  dean  the  fireTorsake, 

Dan  leaves  the  earthy  spade  and  rake  : 

The  loiterers  quake,  no  corner  hides  them. 
And  Lady  Betty  soundly  chides  them. 

How  water’s  brought,  and  dinner’s  done  : 
With  “ Church  and  King”  the  ladies  gone  : 
Hot  reckoning  half  an  hour  we  pass 
In  talking  o’er  a moderate  glass. 

Dan,  growing  drowsy,  like  a thief 
Steals  off  to  doze  away  his  beef ; 

And  this  must  pass  for  reading  Hamond, 
While  George  and  Dean  go  to  backgammon. 
George,  Nim,  and  Dean,  set  out  at  four. 

And  then  again,  boys,  to  the  oar. 

But  when  the  sun  goes  to  the  deep 
(Not  to  disturb  him  in  his  sleep, 

Or  make  a rumbling  o’er  his  head, 

His  candle  out,  and  he  abed) 

We  watch  his  motions  to  a minute, 

And  leave  the  flood  when  he  goes  in  it; 

How  stinted  in  the  shortening  day, 

We  go  to  prayers,  and  then  to  play, 

Till  supper  comes  ; and  after  that 
We  sit  an  hour  to  drink  and  chat. 

;Tis  late—  the  old  and  younger  pairs, 

By  AdamJ  lighted,  walk  up  stairs. 

The  weary  Dean  goes  to  his  chamber ; 

And  Nim  and  Dan  to  garret  clamber. 


• A small  boat  so  called. 

t Mr.  Rochfort’s  father  was  lord  chief  baron  of  the  exchequer  in  Ireland. 
£ The  butler. 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


So  when  the  circle  we  have  run, 

The  curtain  falls  and  all  is  done. 

I might  have  mention’d  several  facts* 

Like  episodes  between  the  acts  ; 

And  tell  who  loses  and  who  wins, 

Who  gets  a cold,  who  breaks  his  shins  ; 

How  Dan  caught  nothing  in  his  net, 

And  how  the  boat  was  overset. 

For  brevity  I have  retrench’d 

How  in  the  lake  the  Dean  was  drench’d  S 

It  would  be  an  exploit  to  brag  on, 

How  valiant  George  rode  o’er  the  Dragon  ; 
How  steady  in  the  storm  he  sat, 

And  saved  his  oar,  but  lost  his  hat ; 

How  Nim  (no  hunter  e’er  could  match  him) 
Still  brings  us  hares,  when  he  can  catch ’em  § 
How  skilfully  Dan  mends  his  nets ; 

How  fortune  fails  him  when  he  sets  ; 

Or  how  the  Dean  delights  to  vex 
The  ladies,  and  lampoon  their  sex  : 

I might  have  told  how  oft  dean  Perceval 
Displays  his  pedantry  unmerciful, 

How  haughtily  he  cocks  his  nose, 

To  tell  what  every  schoolboy  knows  : 

And  with  his  finger  and  his  thumb. 
Explaining,  strikes  opposers  dumb 
But  now  there  needs  no  more  be  said  on% 
Nor  how  his  wife,  that  female  pedant, 

Shows  all  her  secrets  of  housekeeping ; 

For  candles  how  she  trucks  her  dripping  $ 
Was  forced  to  send  three  miles  for  yeast. 

To  brew  her  ale,  and  raise  her  paste  ; 

Tells  everything  that  you  can  think  of. 

How  she  cured  Charlie  of  the  chin-cough  f 
What  gave  her  brats  and  pigs  the  measles. 
And  how  her  doves  were  kill’d  by  weaslesf 
How  Jowler  howl’d,  and  what  a fright 
She  had  with  dreams  the  other  night. 

But  now,  since  I have  gone  so  far  on* 

A word  or  two  of  Lord  Chief  Baron  ; 

And  tell  how  little  weight  he  sets 
On  all  whig  papers  and  gazettes  ; 

But  for  the  politics  of  Pue, 

Thinks  every  syllable  is  true. 

And  since  he  owns  the  king  of  Sweden 
Is  dead  at  last,  without  evading, 

Now  all  his  hopes  are  in  the  czar  : 

“ Why,  Muscovy  is  not  so  far  : 

Down  the  Black  Sea,  and  up  the  Straits* 

And  in  a month  he’s  at  your  gates ; 


BECS  BIRTHDAY. 


651 


Perhaps  from  what  the  packet  brings, 

By  Christmas  we  shall  see  strange  things.* 
Why  should  I tell  of  ponds  and  drains, 

What  carps  we  met  with  for  our  pains  ; 

Of  sparrows  tamed,  and  nuts  innumerable 
To  choke  the  girls,  and  to  consume  a rabble? 
But  you,  who  are  a scholar,  know 
How  transient  all  things  are  below, 

How  prone  to  change  is  human  life  ! 

Last  night  arrived  Clem*  and  his  wife — 
This  grand  event  has  broke  our  measures  : 
Their  reign  began  with  cruel  seizures  : 

The  Dean  must  with  his  quilt  supply 
The  bed  in  which  those  tyrants  lie  : 

Him  lost  his  wig  block,  Dan  his  Jordan, 

(My  lady  says,  she  can’t  afford  one) 

George  is  half  scared  out  of  his  wits, 

For  Clem  gets  all  the  dainty  bits. 

Henceforth  expect  a different  survey, 

This  house  will  soon  turn  topsy-turvy: 

They  talk  of  further  alterations, 

Which  causes  many  speculations. 


BECSf  BIRTHDAY.  Nov.  8,  172S. 

THIS  day,  dear  Bee,  is  thy  nativity ; 

Had  Fate  a luckier  one,  she’d  give  it  ye* 
She  chose  a thread  of  greatest  length, 

And  doubly  twisted  it  lor  strength ; 

Nor  will  be  able  with  her  shears 
To  cut  it  off  these  forty  years. 

Then  who  says  care  will  kill  a cat? 

Rebecca  shows  they’re  out  in  that. 

For  she,  though  overrun  with  care, 

Continues  healthy,  fat  and  fair. 

As,  if  the  gout  should  seize  the  head. 
Doctors  pronounce  the  patient  dead ; 

But,  if  they  can,  by  all  their  hearts, 

Eject  it  to  th’  extremest  parts, 

They  give  the  sick  man  joy,  and  praise 
The  gout  that  will  prolong  his  days — 
Rebecca  thus  I gladly  greet : 

Who  drives  her  cares  to  hands  and  feet ; 
For,  though  philosophers  maintain 
The  limbs  are  guided  by  the  brain, 

Quite  contrary  Rebecca’s  led. 

Her  hands  and  feet  conduct  her  head, 

# Mr.  Clement  Barry. 

t Rebecca  Dingley,  Esther  Johnson’s  companion. 


652 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


By  arbitrary  power  convey  her, 

She  ne’er  considers  why,  or  where  : 

Her  hands  may  meddle,  feet  may  wander* 
Her  head  is  but  a mere  by-stander  : 

And  all  her  bustling  but  supplies 
The  part  of  wholesome  exercise. 

Thus  Nature  has  resolved  to  pay  her 
The  cat’s  nine  lives,  and  eke  the  care. 

Long  may  she  live,  and  help  her  friends 
Whene’er  it  suits  her  private  ends ; 
Domestic  business  never  mind 
Till  coffee  has  her  stomach  lined  ; 

But,  when  her  breakfast  gives  her  courage^ 
Then  think  on  Stella’s  chicken  porridge ; 

I mean  when  Tiger  has  been  served. 

Or  else  poor  Stella  may  be  starved. 

May  Bee  have  many  an  evening  nap* 
With  Tiger  slabbering  in  her  lap ; 

But  always  take  a special  care 
She  does  not  overset  the  chair ; 

Still  be  she  curious,  never  hearken 
To  any  speech  but  Tiger’s  barking! 

And  when  she’s  in  another  scene, 

Stella  long  dead,  but  first  the  Dean, 

May  Fortune  and  her  coffee  get  her 
Companions  that  will  please,  her  better! 
Whole  afternoons  will  sit  beside  her, 

Nor  for  neglects  or  blunders  chide  hen 
A goodly  set  as  can  be  found 
Of  hearty  gossips  prating  round  ; 

Fresh  from  a wedding  or  a christening, 

To  teach  her  ears  the  art  of  listening, 

And  please  her  more  to  hear  them  tattle* 
Than  the  dean  storm,  or  Stella  rattle. 

Late  be  her  death,  one  gentle  nod 
When  Hermes,  waiting  with  his  rod, 

Shall  to  Elysian  fields  invite  her, 

Where  there  shall  be  no  cares  to  fright  her  I 


TO  JANUS,  ON  NEW-YEAR’S  DAY. 
1726. 


WO-FACED  Janus,  god  of  Time! 


Be  my  Phoebus  while  I rhyme  ; 
To  oblige  your  crony  Swift, 

Bring  our  dame  a new-year’s  gift ; 
She  has  got  but  half  a face  ; 

Janus,  since  thou  hast  a brace, 


TO  JANUS,  ON  NEW  YEASTS  DAY. 

To  my  lady  once  be  kind ; 

Give  her  half  thy  face  behind. 

God  of  Time,  if  you  be  wise,  . 

Look  not  with  your  future  eyes  ; 

What  imports  thy  forward  sight? 

Well,  if  you  could  lose  it  quite. 

Can  you  take  delight  in  viewing 
This  poor  Isle’s*  approaching  ruin* 

When  thy  retrospection  vast 
Sees  the  glorious  ages  past. 

Happy  nation,  were  we  blind, 

Or  had  only  eyes  behind ! 

Drown  your  morals,  madam  cries, 

I’ll  have  none  but  forward  eyes  ; 

Prudes  decay’d  about  may  tack, 

Strain  their  necks  with  looking  back 
Give  me  Time  when  coming  on  : 

Who  regards  him  when  he’s  gone? 

By  the  Dean  though  gravely  told, 

New  years  help  to  make  me  old  j 
Yet  I find  a new  year’s  lace 
Burnishes  an  old  year’s  face  : 

Give  me  velvet  and  quadrille, 

I’ll  have  youth  and  beauty  still 


A PASTORAL  DIALOGUE. 

WRITTEN  AFTER  THE  NEWS  OF  THE  KING’S  DEATH. f 

RICHMOND  Lodge  is  a house  with  a small  park  belonging  to  the  Crown.  It 
was  usually  granted  by  the  Crown  for  a lease  of  years.  The  Duke  of  Ormond 
was  the  last  who  had  it.  After  his  exile,  it  was  given  to  the  Prince  of  Wales 
by  the  King.  The  Prince  and  Princess  usually  passed  their  summer  there. 
It  is  within  a mile  of  Richmond. 

Marble  Hill  is  a house  built  by  Mrs.  Howard,  then  of  the  bedchamber,  after- 
ward Countess  of  Suffolk,  and  groom  of  the  stole  to  the  Queen.  It  is  on  the 
Middlesex  side,  near  Twickenham,  where  Mr.  Pope  lived,  and  about  two 
miles  from  Richmond  Lodge.  Mr.  Pope  was  the  contriver  of  the  gardens, 
Lord  Herbert  the  architect,  the  Dean  of  St.  Patrick’s  chief  butler,  and  keeper 
of  the  Ice-house.  Upon  King  George’s  death,  these  two  houses  met,  and  had 
the  following  dialogue:  — 

IN  spite  of  Pope,  in  spite  of  Gay, 

And  all  that  he  or  they  can  say  ; 

Sing  on  I must,  and  sing  I will 
Of  Richmond  Lodge  and  Marble  Hill. 

# Ireland. 

I George  I.,  who  died  after  a short  sickness,  by  eating  a melon,  at  Osnaburg, 
In  his  way  to  Hanover,  June  n,  1727.; — The  poem  was  carried  to  court,  and 
read  to  King  George  II.  and  Queen  Caroline. 


*54 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


Last  Friday  night,  as  neighbours  usefc 
This  couple  met  to  talk  of  news  ; 

For,  by  old  proverbs  it  appears, 

That  walls  have  tongues,  and  hedges  earaw 

MARBLE  HILL. 

Quoth  Marble  Hill,  right  well  I ween. 
Your  mistress  now  is  grown  a queen  : 
You’ll  find  it  soon  by  woful  proof ; 

Shell  come  no  more  beneath  your  root 

RICHMOND  LODGE. 

The  kingly  prophet  well  evinces, 

That  we  should  put  no  trust  in  princes  S 
My  royal  master  promised  me 
To  raise  me  to  a high  degree  ; 

But  now  he’s  grown  a king,  God  wot, 

I fear  I shall  be  soon  forgot. 

You  see,  when  folks  have  got  their  end% 
How  quickly  they  neglect  their  friends; 
Yet  I may  say,  ’twixt  me  and  you, 

Pray  God  they  now  may  find  as  true  I 

MARBLE  HILL. 

My  house  was  built  but  for  a show. 

My  lady’s  empty  pockets  know  ; 

And  now  she  will  not  have  a shilling, 

To  raise  the  stairs,  or  build  the  ceiling; 
For  all  the  courtly  madams  round 
Now  pay  four  shillings  in  the  pound ; 

*Tis  come  to  what  I always  thought ; 

My  dame  is  hardly  worth  a groat. 

Had  you  and  I been  courtiers  born, 

We  should  not  thus  have  lain  forlorn  : 
For  those  we  dextrous  courtiers  call. 

Can  rise  upon  their  masters’  fail. 

But  we,  unlucky  and  unwise, 

Must  fall  because  our  masters  rise. 

RICHMOND  LODGE. 

My  master,  scarce  a fortnight  since^ 
Was  grown  as  wealthy  as  a prince ; 

But  now  it  will  be  no  such  thing, 

For  he’il  be  poor  as  any  king  : 

And  by  his  crown  will  nothing  get, 

But  like  a king  to  run  in  debt. 

MARBLE  HILL. 

No  more  the  Dean,  that  grave  diving 
Shall  keep  the  key  of  my  no— wine ; 


A PASTORAL  DIALOGUE. 


65$ 


My  ice-house  rob,  as  heretofore. 

And  steal  my  artichokes  no  more ; 

Poor  Patty  Blount  no  more  be  seen 
Bedraggled  in  my  walks  so  green  : 

Plump  Johnny  Gay  will  now  elope : 

And  here  no  more  will  dangle  Pope. 

RICHMOND  LODGE, 

Here  wont  the  Dean,  when  he’s  to  seek^ 
To  spunge  a breakfast  once  a week ; 

To  cry  the  bread  was  stale,  and  mutter 
Complaints  against  the  royal  butter. 

But  now  I fear  it  will  be  said, 

No  butter  sticks  upon  his  bread. 

We  soon  shall  find  him  full  of  spleen, 

For  want  of  tattling  to  the  queen  ; 
Stunning  her  royal  ears  with  talking ; 

His  reverence  and  her  highness  walking  X 
While  Lady  Charlotte,*  like  a stroller. 

Sits  mounted  on  the  garden-roller. 

A goodly  sight  to  see  her  ride 
With  Ancient  Mirmontf  at  her  side. 

In  velvet  cap  his  head  lies  warm  ; 

His  hat  for  show  beneath  his  arm. 


RICHMOND  LODGE. 

In  my  own  Thames  may  I be  drownded. 
If  e’er  I stoop  beneath  a crown’d  head ; 
Except  Her  Majesty  prevails 
To  place  me  with  the  Prince  of  Wales  | 
And  then  I shall  be  free  from  fears. 

For  he’ll  be  prince  these  fifty  years. 

I then  will  turn  a courtier  too, 

And  serve  the  times,  as  others  da 
Plain  loyalty,  not  built  on  hope, 

I leave  to  your  contriver,  Pope  : 

None  loves  his  king  and  country  better, 
Yet  none  was  ever  less  their  debtor. 

# Lady  Charlotte  de  Roussy,  a French  lady. 

1*  Marquis  de  Mirmont,  a Frenchman  of  quality* 


MARBLE  HILL, 

Some  South- Sea  broker  from  the  city 
Will  purchase  me,  the  more’s  the  pity  ; 
Lay  all  my  fine  plantations  waste, 

To  fit  them  to  his  vulgar  taste ; 
Changed  for  the  worse  in  every  part, 
My  master  Pope  will  break  his  heart* 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS* 


MARBLE  HILL. 


Then  let  him  come  and  take  a nap 
In  summer  on  my  verdant  lap  : 

Prefer  our  villas,  where  the  Thames  if* 
To  Kensington,  or  hot  St.  James’s  ; 

Nor  shall  1 dull  in  silence  sit ; 

For  ’tis  to  me  he  owes  his  wit : 

My  groves,  my  echoes,  and  my  birds. 
Have  taught  him  his  poetic  words. 

We  gardens,  and  you  wildernesses, 

Assist  all  poets  in  distresses. 

Him  twice  a week  I here  expect, 

To  rattle  Moody*  for  neglect ; 

An  idle  rogue,  who  spends  his  quartridge 
In  tippling  at  the  Dog  and  Partridge; 
And  I can  hardly  get  him  down 
Three  times  a week  to  brush  my  gown. 


I pity  you,  dear  Marble  Hill ; 
But  hope  to  see  you  flourish  still. 
All  happiness — and  so  adieu. 


Kind  Richmond  Lodge,  the  same  to  yotl. 
DESIRE  AND  POSSESSION. 


IS  strange  what  different  thoughts  inspire 


In  men,  Possession,  and  Desire  ! 
Think  what  they  wish  so  great  a blessing } 
So  disappointed  when  possessing  l 
A moralist  profoundly  sage 
(I  know  not  in  what  book  or  page^  . 

Or  whether  o’er  a pot  of  ale) 

Related  thus  the  following  tale. 

Possession,  and  Desire  his  brother. 

But  still  at  variance  with  each  other, 

Were  seen  contending  in  a race ; 

And  kept  at  first  an  equal  pace  : 

*Tis  said,  their  course  continued  long^ 

For  this  was  active,  that  was  strong : 

Till  Envy,  Slander,  Sloth,  and  Doub^ 
Misled  them  many  a league  about ; 


RICHMOND  LODGE. 


MARBLE  HILL. 


1727. 


• The  gardener. 


DESIRE  AND  POSSESSION 


657 


Seduced  by  some  deceiving  light, 

They  take  the  wrong  way  for  the  right  ; 
Through  slippery  by-roads,  dark  and  deep. 
They  often  climb,  and  often  creep. 

Desire,  the  swifter  of  the  two, 

Along  the  plain  like,  lightning  flew  : 

•Till,  entering  on  a broad  highway, 

Where  power  and  titles  scatter'd  lay, 

He  strove  to  pick  up  all  he  found, 

And  by  excursions  lost  his  ground  : 

No  sooner  got,  than  with  disdain 
He  threw  them  on  the  ground  again; 

And  hasted  forward  to  pursue 
Fresh  objects  fairer  to  his  view  ; 

In  hope  to  spring  some  nobler  game  ; 

But  all  he  took  was  just  the  same  : 

Too  scornful  now  to  stop  his  pace, 

He  spurn'd  them  in  his  rival's  face. 

Possession  kept  the  beaten  road, 

And  gather’d  all  his  brother  strow’d  ; 

But  overcharged,  and  out  of  wind, 

Though  strong  in  limbs,  he  lagg’d  behind. 

Desire  had  now  the  goal  in  sight: 

It  was  a tower  of  monstrous  height ; 

Where  on  the  summit  Fortune  stands, 

A crown  and  sceptre  in  her  hands ; 

Beneath  a chasm  as  deep  as  hell, 

Where  many  a bold  adventurer  tell. 

Desire  in  rapture  gazed  awhile, 

And  saw  the  treacherous  goddess  smile  ; 
But,  as  he  climb’d  to  grasp  the  crown, 

She  knock'd  him  with  the  sceptre  down! 

He  tumbled  in  the  gulf  profound  ; 

There  doom'd  to  whirl  an  endless  round. 

Possession's  load  was  grown  so  great, 

He  sunk  beneath  the  cumbrous  weight : 
And,  as  he  now  expiring  lay, 

Flocks  every  ominous  bird  of  prey; 

The  raven,  vulture,  owl,  and  kite, 

At  once  upon  his  carcass  light, 

And  strip  his  hide,  and  pick  his  bones. 
Regardless  of  his  dying  groans. 


6& 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


ON  CENSURE. 

1727. 

YE  wise,  instruct  me  to  endure 

An  evil,  which  admits  no  cure  5 
Or,  how  this  evil  can  be  borne, 

Which  breeds  at  once  both  hate  and  scorn. 
Bare  innocence  is  no  support, 

When  you  are  tried  in  Scandal's  court. 
Stand  high  in  honour,  wealth  or  wit ; 

All  others,  who  inferior  sit, 

Conceive  themselves  in  conscience  bound 
To  join,  and  drag  you  to  the  ground. 

Your  altitude  offends  the  eyes 
Of  those  who  want  the  power  to  rise. 

The  world,  a willing  stander-by, 

Inclines  to  aid  a specious  lie  : 

Alas  ! they  would  not  do  you  wrong; 

But  all  appearances  are  strong ! 

Yet  whence  proceeds  this  weight  we  lay 
On  what  detracting  people  say  ? 

For  let  mankind  discharge  their  tongues 
In  venom,  till  they  burst  their  lungs, 

Their  utmost  malice  cannot  make 
Your  head,  or  tooth,  or  finger  ache ; 

Nor  spoil  your  shape,  distort  your  face. 

Or  put  one  feature  out  of  place  ; 

Nor  will  you  find  your  fortune  sink 
By  what  they  speak  or  what  they  think  5 
Nor  can  ten  hundred  thousand  lies 
Make  you  less  virtuous,  learn’d,  or  wise; 

The  most  effectual  way  to  baulk 
Their  malice,  is-—  to  let  them  talk. 


AN  EPISTLE 

UPON  AN  EPISTLE  FROM  A CERTAIN  DOCTOR  TO  A CERTAIN 
GREAT  LORD.* 

BEING  A CHRISTMAS-BOX  FOR  DR.  DELANY. 

AS  Jove  will  not  attend  on  less, 

When  things  of  more  importance  press: 

You  can’t,  grave  sir,  believe  it  hard, 

That  you,  a low  Hibernian  bard, 

• His  Excellency  Lord  Carteret,  Lord  Lieutenant  of  Ireland* 


AN  EPISTLE. 


Should  cool  your  heels  awhile,  and  wait 
Unanswer’d  at  your  patron’s  gate  ; 

And  would  my  Lord  vouchsafe  to  grant 
This  one,  poor,  humble  boon  I want, 

Free  leave  to  play  his  secretary, 

As  Falstaff  acted  old  King  Harry  ; 

I’d  tell  of  yours  in  rhyme  and  print ; 

Folks  shrug,  and  cry,  “ There’s  nothing  iaft.* 
And,  after  several  readings  over, 

It  shines  most  in  the  marble  cover. 

How  could  so  fine  a taste  dispense 
With  mean  degrees  of  wit  and  sense  ? 

Nor  will  my  lord  so  far  beguile 
The  wise  and  learned  of  our  isle  ; 

To  make  it  pass  upon  the  nation, 

By  dint  of  his  sole  approbation. 

The  task  is  arduous,  patrons  find, 

To  warp  the  sense  of  all  mankind  : 

Who  think  your  Muse  must  first  aspire, 

Ere  he  advance  the  doctor  higher. 

You’ve  cause  to  say  he  meant  you  well  S 
That  you  are  thankful,  who  can  tell  ? 

For  still  you’re  short  (which  grieves  your  spirit) 

Of  his  intent ; you  mean,  your  merit. 

Ah  ! quanto  rectius , tu  adepte% 

Qui  nil  molMs  tam  inepte  ? 

Smedley  * thou  Jonathan  of  Clogher, 

* When  thou  thy  humble  lay  dost  offer 
To  Grafton’s  grace,  with  grateful  heart, 

Thy  thanks  and  verse  devoid  of  art : 

Content  with  what  his  bounty  gave, 

No  larger  income  dost  thou  crave.” 

But  you  must  have  cascades,  and  all 
Ierne’s  lake,  for  your  canal, 

Your  vistoes,  barges,  and  (a  pox  on 
All  pride  !)  our  speaker  for  your  coxswain  S 
It’s  pity  that  he  can’t  bestow  you 
Twelve  commoners  in  caps  to  row  you. 

Thus  Edgar  proud,  in  days  of  yore, 

Held  monarchs  labouring  at  the  oar  ; 

And,  as  he  pass’d,  so  swell’d  the  Dee, 

Enraged,  as  Ern  would  do  at  thee. 

How  different  is  this  from  Smedley  t 
(His  name  is  up,  he  may  in  bed  lie) 

“ Who  only  asks  some  pretty  cure, 

In  wholesome  soil  and  ether  pure  ; 

The  garden  stored  with  artless  flowers, 

In  either  angle  shady  bowers  ; 

• See  the  Petition  to  the  Duke  of  Grafton. 

42—* 


66o 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS \ 


No  gay  parterre  with  costly  green 
Must  in  the  ambient  hedge  be  seen  $ 

But  Nature  freely  takes  her  course, 

Nor  fears  from  him  ungrateful  force  : 

No  shears  to  check  her  sprouting  vigour. 

Or  shape  the  yews  to  antic  figure.” 

But  you  forsooth  your  all  must  squander 
On  that  poor  spot,  call’d  Dell-ville,  yonder 
And  when  you’ve  been  at  vast  expenses 
In  whims,  parterres,  canals,  and  fences, 

Your  assets  fail,  and  cash  is  wanting ; 

Nor  farther  buildings,  farther  planting? 

No  wonder,  when  you  raise  and  level, 

Think  this  wall  low,  and  that  wall  bevel. 
Here  a convenient  box  you  found, 

Which  you  demolish’d  to  the  ground  : 

Then  built,  then  took  up  with  your  arbour. 
And  set  the  house  to  Rupert  Barber. 

You  sprang  an  arch  which  in  a scurvy 
Humour,  you  tumbled  topsy-turvy. 

You  change  a circle  to  a square, 

Then  to  a circle  as  you  were  : 

Who  can  imagine  whence  the  fund  is. 

That  you  quadrata  change  rotundis  ? 

To  Fame  a temple  you  erect, 

A Flora  does  the  dome  protect ; 

Mounts,  walks,  on  high  ; and  in  a holloa 
You  place  the  Muses  and  Apollo ; 

There  shining  ’midst  his  train,  to  grace 
Your  whimsical  poetic  place. 

These  stories  were  of  old  design’d 
As  fables  : but  you  have  refined 
The  poets’  mythologic  dreams, 

To  real  Muses,  gods,  and  streams, 

Who  would  not  swear,  when  you  contrive  thu% 
That  you’re  Don  Quixote  redivivus? 

Beneath,  a dry  canal  there  lies, 

Which  only  Winter’s  rain  supplies. 

O ! couldst  thou,  by  some  magic  spell. 

Hither  convey  St.  Patrick’s  well  I 
Here  may  it  reassume  its  stream, 

And  take  a greater  Patrick’s  name ! 

If  your  expenses  rise  so  high, 

What  income  can  your  wants  supply  ? 

Yet  still  your  fancy  you  inherit 
A fund  of  such  superior  merit, 

That  you  can’t  fail  of  more  provision. 

All  by  my  lady’s  kind  decision. 

For,  the  more  livings  you  can  fish  up, 

You  think  you’ll  sooner  be  a bishop ; 


v 


AN  EPISTLE. 


C6i 


That  could  not  be  my  lord’s  intent, 

Nor  can  it  answer  the  event. 

Most  think  what  has  been  heap’d  on  you 
To  other  sort  of  folk  was  due  : 

Rewards  too  great  for  your  flim-flams, 

Epistles,  riddles,  epigrams. 

Though  now  your  depth  must  not  be  sounded. 
The  time  was,  when  you’d  have  compounded 
For  less  than  Charley  Grattan’s  school  1 
Five  hundred  pound  a year’s  no  fool ! 

Take  this  advice  then  from  your  friend. 

To  your  ambition  put  an  end. 

Be  frugal,  Pat : pay  what  you  owe, 

Before  you  build  and  you  bestow. 

Be  modest ; nor  address  your  betters 
With  begging,  vain,  familiar,  letters, 

A passage  may  be  found,  I’ve  heard, 

In  some  old  Greek  or  Latin  bard, 

Which  says,  “ Would  crows  in  silence  eat 
Their  offals,  or  their  better  meat, 

Their  generous  feeders  not  provoking 
By  loud  and  unharmonious  croaking, 

They  might  unhurt  by  Envy’s  claws, 

Live  on,  and  stuff  to  boot  their  maws.”* 


A LIBEL 

OH  THE  REVEREND  DR.  DELANY,  AND  HIS  EXCELLENCE 
JOHN  LORD  CARTERET.  1 729. 

DELUDED  mortals,  whom  the  great 
Choose  for  companions  tete-a-tete  ; 

Who  at  their  dinners,  en  famille , 

Get  leave  to  sit  whene’er  you  will ! 

Then  boasting  tell  us  where  you  dined. 

And  how  his  lordship  was  so  kind  ; 

How  many  pleasant  things  he  spoke  ; 

And  how  you  laugh’d  at  every  joke  : 

Swear  he’s  a most  facetious  man  ; 

That  you  and  he  are  cup  and  can  : 

You  travel  with  a heavy  load, 

And  quite  mistake  preferment’s  road. 

Suppose  my  lord  and  you  alone  ; 

Hint  the  least  interest  of  your  own, 

His  visage  drops,  he  knits  his  brow, 

He  cannot  talk  of  business  now  : 

Or,  mention  but  a vacant  post, 

He’ll  turn  it  off  with  44  Name  your  toast  ? 

# Hor.  lib.  2.  ep.  xvii. 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


Nor  could  the  nicest  artist  paint 
A countenance  with  more  constraint 

For,  as  their  appetites  to  quench, 

Lords  keep  a pimp  to  bring  a wench  f 
So  men  of  wit,  are  but  a kind 
Of  panders  to  a vicious  mind  ; 

Who  proper  objects  must  provide 
To  gratify  their  lust  of  pride, 

When,  wearied  with  intrigues  of  state* 

They  find  an  idle  hour  to  prate. 

Then,  shall  you  dare  to  ask  a place, 

You  forfeit  all  your  patron’s  grace, 

And  disappoint  the  sole  design 
For  which  he  summon’d  you  to  dine. 

Thus  Congreve  spent  in  writing  plays. 

And  one  poor  office,  half  .his  days  : 

While  Montague,  who  claim’d  the  station 
To  be  Mecaenas  of  the  nation, 

For  poets  open  table  kept, 

But  ne’er  consider’d  where  they  slept: 
Himself  as  rich  as  fifty  Jews, 

Was  easy,  though  they  wanted  shoes  : 

And  crazy  Congreve  scarce  could  spar© 

A shilling  to  discharge  his  chair  : 

Till  prudence  taught  him  to  appeal 
From  Paean’s  fire  to  party  zeal ; 

Not  owing  to  his  happy  vein 
The  fortunes  of  his  later  scene, 

Took  proper  principles  to  thrive; 

And  so  might  every  dunce  alive. 

Thus  Steele,  who  own’d  what  others  wri^ 
And  flourish’d  by  imputed  wit, 

From  perils  of  a hundred  jails, 

Withdrew  to  starve,  and  die  in  Wales. 

Thus  Gay,  the  hare  with  many  friends, 
Twice  seven  long  years  the  court  attends  l 
Who,  under  tales  conveying  truth, 

To  virtue  form’d  a princely  youth  :* 

Who  paid  his  courtship  with  the  crowd. 

As  far  as  modest  pride  allow’d  ; 

Rejects  a servile  usher’s  place, 

And  leaves  St.  James’s  in  disgrace. 

Thus  Addison,  by  lords  caress’d, 

Was  left  in  foreign  lands  distress’d  ; 

Forgot  at  home,  became  for  hire 
A travelling  tutor  to  a squire  : 

But  wisely  left  the  Muses’  hill, 

To  business  shaped  the  poet’s  quill, 

• William  Duke  of  Cumberland,  son  of  George  TL 


A LthEL  ON  DR.  DEL  A NY. 


Let  all  his  barren  laurels  fade, 

Took  up  himself  the  courtier's  trade. 

And,  grown  a minister  of  state, 

Saw  poets  at  his  levee  wait. 

Hail,  happy  Pope  ! whose  generous  mini 
Detesting  all  the  statesman  kind, 
Contemning  courts,  at  courts  unseen. 
Refused  the  visits  of  a queen. 

A soul  with  every  virtue  fraught, 

By  sages,  priests,  or  poets  taught ; 

Whose  filial  piety  excels 
Whatever  Grecian  story  tells  ; 

A genius  for  all  stations  fit, 

Whose  meanest  talent  is  his  wit : 

His  heart  too  great,  though  fortune  little^ 

To  lick  a rascal  statesman's  spittle ; 
Appealing  to  the  nation's  taste, 

Above  the  reach  of  want  is  placed  : 

By  Homer  dead  was  taught  to  thrive, 
Which  Homer  never  could  alive  ; 

And  sits  aloft  on  Pindus’  head, 

Despising  slaves  that  cringe  for  bread* 

True  politicians  only  pay 
For  solid  work,  but  not  for  play  : 

Nor  ever  choose  to  work  with  tools 
Forged  up  in  colleges  and  schools. 

Consider  how  much  more  is  due 
To  all  their  journeymen  than  you : 

At  table  you  can  Horace  quote  ; 

They  at  a pinch  can  bribe  a vote  : 

You  show  you  skill  in  Grecian  story; 

But  they  can  manage  whig  and  tory : 

You,  as  a critic,  are  so  curious 
To  find  a verse  in  Virgil  spurious  ; 

But  they  can  smoke  the  deep  designs, 

When  Bolingbroke  with  Pulteney  dines. 

Besides,  your  patron  may  upbraid  ye, 
That  you  have  got  a place  already  ; 

An  office  for  your  talents  fit, 

To  flatter,  carve,  and  show  you  wit  5 
To  snuff  the  lights  and  stir  the  fire, 

And  get  a dinner  for  your  hire. 

What  claim  have  you  to  place  or  pension  f 
He  overpays  in  condescension. 

But,  reverend  doctor,  you  we  know 
Could  never  condescend  so  low  ; 

The  viceroy,  whom  you  now  attend, 

Would, if  he  durst, be  more  your  friend; 
Nor  will  in  you  those  gifts  despise, 

By  which  himself  was  taught  to  rise  1 


664 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


When  he  has  virtue  to  retire, 

He’ll  grieve  he  did  not  raise  you  higher. 
And  place  you  in  a better  station, 

Although  it  might  have  pleased  the  nation 
This  may  be  true — submitting  still 
To  Walpole’s  more  than  royal  will ; 

And  what  condition  can  be  worse  ? 

He  comes  to  drain  a beggar’s  purse  ; 

He  comes  to  tie  our  chains  on  faster. 

And  show  us  England  is  our  master  : 
Caressing  knaves,  and  dunces  wooing. 

To  make  them  work  their  own  undoaifl^ 
What  has  he  else  to  bait  his  traps, 

Or  bring  his  vermin  in,  but  scraps  f 
The  offals  of  a church  distrest ; 

A hungry  vicarage  at  bbst ; 

Or  some  remote  inferior  post. 

With  forty  pounds  a year  at  most  ? 

But  here  again  you  interpose — 

Your  favourite  lord  is  none  of  those 
Who  owe  their  virtues  to  their  stations* 
And  characters  to  dedications  : 

For,  keep  him  in,  or  turn  him  out, 

His  learning  none  will  call  in  douot  5 
His  learning,  though  a poet  said  it 
Before  a play,  would  lose  no  credit ; 

(Nor  Pope  would  dare  deny  him  wit. 
Although  to  praise  it  Philips  writ. 

I own,  he  hates  an  action  base, 

His  virtues  battling  with  his  place ; 

Nor  wants  a nice  discerning  spirit 
Betwixt  a true  and  spurious  merit ; 

Can  sometimes  drop  a voter’s  claim* 

And  give  up  party  to  his  fame. 

I do  the  most  that  friendship  can ; 

I hate  the  viceroy,  love  the  man. 

But  you,  who,  till  your  fortune’s  madfcfc 
Must  be  a sweetener  by  your  trade, 

Should  swear  he  never  meant  us  ill ; 

We  suffer  sore  against  his  will ; 

That,  if  we  could  but  see  his  heart, 

He  would  have  chose  a milder  part: 

We  rather  should  lament  his  case, 

Who  must  obey,  or  lose  his  place. 

Since  this  reflection  slipt  your  pen* 

Insert  it  when  y.ou  write  again  ; 

And,  to  illustrate  it,  produce 
This  simile  for  his  excuse  : 
il  So  to  destroy  a guilty  land 
An  angel  sent  by  Heaven’s  command, 


A LIBEL  ON  DR.  DEL  ANY. 


66 


While  he  obeys  almighty  will, 

Perhaps  may  feel  compassion  still ; 

And  wish  the  task  had  been  assign'd 
To  spirits  of  less  gentle  kind." 

But  I,  in  politics  grown  old, 

Whose  thoughts  are  of  a different  mould 
Who  from  my  soul  sincerely  hate 
Both  kings  and  ministers  of  state  ; 

Who  look  on  courts  with  stricter  eyes 
To  see  the  seeds  of  vice  arise  ; 

Can  lend  you  an  allusion  fitter, 

Though  flattering  knaves  may  call  it  bitter  $ 
Which,  if  you  durst  but  give  it  place, 

Would  show  you  many  a statesman's  face  X 
Fresh  from  the  tripod  of  Apollo, 

I had  it  in  the  words  that  follow ; 

Take  notice,  to  avoid  offence, 

1 here  except  his  excellence  : 

“ So,  to  effect  his  monarch's  ends, 

From  Hell  a viceroy  devil  ascends  ; 

His  budget  with  corruotions  cramm'd. 

The  contributions  of  the  damn'd  ; 

Which  with  unsparing  hand  he  strows 
Through  courts  and  senates  as  he  goes  : 
And  then  at  Beelzebub’s  black  hall, 
Complains  his  budget  was  too  small,* 

Your  simile  may  better  shine 
In  verse,  but  there  is  truth  in  mine. 

For  no  imaginable  things 
Can  differ  more  than  gods  and  kings  1 
And  statesmen,  by  ten  thousand  oddsfc 
Are  angels,  just  as  kings  are  gods. 


APPENDIX  f. 


ANECDOTES 


OF  THE 


FAMILY  OF  SWIFT. 


A FRAGMENT.* 


WRITTEN  BY  DR.  SWIFT# 


*HE  family  of  the  Swifts  was  ancient  in  Yorkshire  ; from  them 


descended  a noted  person,  who  passed  under  the  name  of  Cava- 
liero  Swift,  a man  of  wit  and  humour.  He  was  made  an  Irish  peer  by 
King  James  or  King  Charles  the  First,  with  the  title  of  Baron  Car  ling- 
ford,  but  never  was  in  that  kingdom.  Many  traditional  pleasant 
stones  are  related  of  him,  which  the  family  planted  in  Ireland  has 
received  from  their  parents.  This  lord  died  without  issue  male  ; and 
his  heiress,  whether  of  the  first  or  second  descent,  was  married  to 
Robert  Fielding,  Esq.,  commonly  called  Handsome  Fielding ; she 
brought  him  a considerable  estate  in  Yorkshire,  which  he  squandered 
away,  but  had  no  children  ; the  Earl  of  Eglington  married  another  co- 
heiress of  the  same  family,  as  he  has  often  told  me. 

Another  of  the  same  family  was  Sir  Edward  Swift , well  known  in 
the  times  of  the  great  rebellion  and  usurpation,  but  I am  ignorant  { 
whether  he  left  heirs  or  not. 

Of  the  other  branch,  whereof  the  greatest  part  settled  in  Ireland, 
the  founder  was  William  Swift , prebendary  of  Canterbury,  towards 
the  last  years  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  and  during  the  reign  of  King  James 
the  First.  He  was  a divine  of  some  distinction  : there  is  a sermon  of 
his  extant,  and  the  title  is  to  be  seen  in  the  catalogue  of  the  Bodleian 
Library,  but  I never  could  get  a copy,  and  I suppose  it  would  now  be 
of  little  value. 

This  William  married  the  heiress  of  Fhilpot , I suppose  a Yorkshire 
gentleman,  by  whom  he  got  a very  considerable  estate,  which  however 
she  kept  in  her  own  power  ; I know  not  by  what  artifice.  She  was  a 
capricious,  ill-natured,  and  passionate  woman,  of  which  I have  been 
told  several  instances.  And  it  has  been  a continual  tradition  in  the 
family,  that  she  absolutely  disinherited  her  only  son  Thomas , for  no 
greater  crime  than  that  of  robbing  an  orchard  when  he  was  a boy 

* The  original,  in  Swift’s  handwriting,  is  deposited  in  the  library  of  Trinity 
College,  Dublin. 


ANECDOTES  OF  THE  SWIFT  FAMILY. 


667 


And  thus  much  is  certain,  that  except  a church  or  chapter  lease,  which 
was  not  renewed,  Thomas  never  enjoyed  more  than  one  hundred  pounos 
a year,  which  was  all  at  Goodrich,  in  Herefordshire,  whereof  not  above 
one  half  is  now  in  the  possession  of  a great  grandson. 

His  original  picture  is  now  in  the  hands  of  Godwin  Swift,  of  Dublin, 
Esq.,  his  great  grandson,  as  well  as  that  of  his  wife,  who  seems  to 
have  a good  deal  of  the  shrew  in  her  countenance ; whose  arms  of  an 
heiress  are  joined  with  his  own;  and  by  the  last  he  seems  to  have  been 
a person  somewhat  fantastic  ; for  in  these  he  gives  as  his  device  a 
dolphin  (in  those  days  called  a Swift)  twisted  about  an  anchor,  with 
this  motto,  Fesiina  lent e. 

There  is  likewise  a seal  with  the  same  coat  of  arms  (his  not  joined 
with  his  wife’s)  which  the  said  William  commonly  made  use  of,  and 
this  is  also  now  in  the  possession  of  Godwin  Swift  above-mentioned. 

His  eldest  son  Thomas  seems  to  have  been  a clergyman  before  his 
father’s  death.  He  was  vicar  of  Goodrich,  in  Herefordshire,  within  a 
mile  or  two  of  Ross:  he  had  likewise  another  church  living,  with  about 
one  hundred  pounds  a year  in  land,  as  I have  already  mentioned.  He 
built  a house  on  his  own  land  in  the  village  of  Goodrich,  which,  by  the 
architecture,  denotes  the  builder  to  have  been  somewhat  whimsical 
and  singular,  and  very  much  toward  a projector.  The  house  is  above 
an  hundred  years  old,  and  still  in  good  repair,  inhabited  by  a tenant  of 
the  female  line,  but  the  landlord,  a young  gentleman,  lives  upon  his 
own  estate  ia  Ireland. 

This  Thomas  was  distinguished  by  his  courage,  as  well  as  his  loyalty 
to  King  Charles  the  First,  and  the  sufferings  he  underwent  for  that 
prince,  more  than  any  person  of  his  condition  in  England.  Some  his- 
torians of  those  times  relate  several  particulars  of  what  he  acted,  and 
what  hardships  he  underwent  for  the  person  and  cause  of  that  blessed 
martyred  prince.  He  was  plundered  by  the  Roundheads  six-and- thirty 
times,  some  say  above  fifty.  He  engaged  his  small  estate,  and  gathered 
all  the  money  he  could  get,  quilted  it  in  his  waistcoat,  got  off  to  a town 
held  for  the  king,  where  being  asked  by  the  governor,  who  knew  him 
well,  “ What  he  could  do  for  his  majesty  ?”  Mr.  Swift  said,  “ He  would 
give  the  king  his  coat.”  and  stripping  it  off  presented  it  to  the  governor; 
who  observing  it  to  be  worth  little,  Mr.  Swift  said,  “Then  take  my 
waistcoat he  bid  the  governor  weigh  it  in  his  hand,  who  ordering  it 
to  be  ripped,  found  it  lined  with  three  hundred  broad  pieces  of  gold, 
which,  as  it  proved  a seasonable  relief,  must  be  allowed  an  extraordi- 
nary supply  from  a private  clergyman  with  ten  children,  of  a small 
estate,  so  often  plundered,  and  soon  after  turned  out  of  his  livings  in 
the  church. 

At  another  time,  being  informed  that  three  hundred  horse  of  the 
rebel  party  intended  in  a week  to  pass  over  a certain  river,  upon  an 
attempt  against  the  cavaliers,  Mr  Swift  having  a head  mechanically 
turned,  he  contrived  certain  pieces  of  iron  with  three  spikes,  whereof 
one  must  always  be  with  the  point  upward  ; he  placed  them  over 
night  in  the  ford,  where  he  received  notice  that  the  rebels  would  pass 
early  the  next  morning,  which  they  accordingly  did,  and  lost  two 
hundred  of  their  men,  who  were  drowned  or  trod  to  death  by  the  fall* 
ing  of  their  horses,  or  torn  by  the  spikes. 


6 68 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS. 


His  sons,  whereof  four  were  settled  in  Ireland  (driven  thither  by  their 
Bufferings,  and  by  the  death  of  their  father)  related  many  other  pass- 
ages, which  they  learned  either  from  their  father  himself,  or  from  what 
had  been  told  them  by  the  most  creditable  persons  of  Herefordshire, 
and  some  neighbouring  counties  ; and  which  some  of  those  sons  often 
told  to  their  children ; many  of  which  are  still  remembered,  but  many 
more  forgot. 

He  was  deprived  of  both  his  church  livings  sooner  than  most  other 
loyal  clergyman,  upon  account  of  his  superior  zeal  for  the  king's  cause, 
and  his  estate  sequestered.  His  preferments,  at  least  that  of  Goodrich, 
were  given  to  a fanatical  saint,  who  scrupled  not,  however,  to  conform 
upon  the  Restoration,  and  lived  many  years,  I think  till  after  the  Revo- 
lution: I have  seen  many  persons  at  Goodrich,  who  knew  and  told  me 
his  name,  which  I cannot  now  remember. 

The  Lord  Treasurer  Oxford  told  the  Dean  that  he  had  among  his 
father's  (Sir  Edward  Harley’s)  papers,  several  letters  from  Mr.  Thomas 
Swift,  writ  in  those  times  ; which  he*  promised  to  give  to  the  grandson, 
whose  life  I am  now  writing  ; but  never  going  to  his  house  in  Hereford- 
shire while  he  was  treasurer,  and  the  Queen’s  death  happening  in  three 
days  after  his  removal,  the  Dean  went  to  Ireland,  and  the  Earl  being 
tried  for  his  life,  and  dying  while  the  Dean  was  in  Ireland,  he  could 
never  get  them. 

Mr.  Thomas  Swift  died  in  the  year  1658,  and  in  the  sixty-third  year 
of  his  age  ; his  body  lies  under  the  altar  at  Goodrich,  with  a short  in- 
scription. He  died  about  two  years  before  the  return  of  King  Charles 
the  Second,  who  by  the  recommendation  of  some  prelates  had  pro- 
mised, if  ever  God  should  restore  him,  that  he  would  promote  Mr. 
Swift  in  the  Church,  and  otherwise  reward  his  family,  for  his  extraordi- 
nary services  and  zeal,  and  persecutions  in  the  royal  cause : but  M& 
Swift's  merit  died  with  himself. 

He  left  ten  sons  and  three  or  four  daughters,  most  of  which  lived  to 
be  men  and  women.  His  eldest  son,  Godwin  Swift,  of  the  Inner  Temple, 
Esq.  (so  styled  by  Guillim  the  herald  ; in  whose  book  the  family  is  de- 
scribed at  large)  was,  I think,  called  to  the  bar  before  the  restoration.  ; 
He  married  a relation  of  the  old  Marchioness  of  Ormond,  and  upon 
that  account,  as  well  as  his  father's  loyalty,  the  old  Duke  of  Ormond 
made  him  his  attorney-general  in  the  palatinate  of  Tipperary.  He  had 
four  wives,  one  of  which,  to  the  great  offence  of  his  family,  was  co- 
heiress to  Admiral  Deane , who  was  one  of  the  regicides.  Godwin  left 
several  children,  who  have  all  estates.  He  was  an  ill-pleader,  but  per- 
haps a little  too  dexterous  in  the  subtle  parts  of  the  law. 

The  second  son  of  Mr.  Thomas  Swift  was  called  by  the  same  name, 
was  bred  at  Oxford,  and  took  orders.  He  married  the  eldest  daughter 
ot  Sir  Williain  cPAvenant , but  died  young,  and  left  only  one  son,  who 
was  also  called  Thomas , and  is  now  rector  of  Puttenham  in  Surrey. 
His  widow  lived  long,  was  extremely  poor, and  in  part  supported  by  the 
famous  Dr.  South,  who  had  been  her  husband’s  intimate  friend. 

The  rest  of  his  sons,  as  far  as  I can  call  to  mind,  were  Mr.  Dryden 
Swift,  called  so  after  the  name  of  his  mother,  who  was  a near  relation 
to  Mr.  Dryden  the  poet,  William , Jonathan,  and  Adam,  who  all  lived 
and  died  mlreland ; but  none  of  them  left  male  issue  except  Jonathan ; 


ANECDOTES  OF  THE  SWIFT  FAMILY.  669 

who  beside  a daughter  left  one  son,  born  seven  months  after  his  father's 
death,  of  whose  life  1 intend  to  write  a few  memorials. 

J.  S.  D.D.  and  D.  of  St.  P ,*  was  the  only  son  of  Jonathan 

Swift,  who  was  the  seventh  or  eighth  son  of  Mr.  Thomas  Swift  above- 
mentioned,  so  eminent  for  his  loyalty  and  his  sufferings. 

His  father  died  young,  about  two  years  after  his  marriage,  he  had 
some  employments  and  agencies  ; his  death  was  much  lamented  on 
account  of  his  reputation  for  integrity,  with  a tolerable  good  under- 
standing. 

He  married  Mrs.  Abigail  Erick , of  Leicestershire,  descended  from 
the  most  ancient  family  of  the  Ericks,  who  derive  their  lineage  from 
Erick  the  Forester,  a great  commander,  who  raised  an  army  to  oppose 
the  invasion  of  William  the  Conqueror,  by  whom  he  was  vanquished, 
but  afterwards  employed  to  command  that  prince’s  forces  ; and  in  his 
old  age  retired  to  his  house  in  Leicestershire,  where  his  family  has  con- 
tinued ever  since,  but  declining  every  age,  and  are  now  in  the  condition 
of  very  private  gentlemen. 

This  marriage  was  on  both  sides  very  indiscreet,  for  his  wife  brought 
her  husband  little  or  no  fortune  ; and  his  death  happening  so  suddenly, 
before  he  could  make  a sufficient  establishment  for  his  family,  his  son 
(not  then  born)  hath  often  been  heard  to  say,  that  he  felt  the  con- 
sequences of  that  marriage,  not  only  through  the  whole  course  of  his 
education,  but  during  the  greatest  part  of  his  life. 

He  was  born  in  Dublin  on  St.  Andrew’s  Day ; and  when  he  was  a 
year  old,  an  event  happened  to  him  that  seems  very  unusual : for  his 
nurse,  who  was  a woman  of  Whitehaven,  being  under  an  absolute 
necessity  of  seeing  one  of  her  relations,  who  was  then  extremely  sick, 
and  from  whom  she  expected  a legacy  ; and  being  extremely  fond  of 
the  infant,  she  stole  him  on  shipboard  unknown  to  his  mother  and  uncle 
and  carried  him  with  her  to  Whitehaven,  where  he  continued  for  almost 
three  years.  For,  when  the  matter  was  discovered,  his  mother  sent 
orders  by  all  means  not  to  hazard  a second  voyage,  till  he  could  be 
better  able  to  bear  it.  The  nurse  was  so  careful  of  him,  that  before  he 
returned  he  had  learned  to  spell ; and  by  the  time  that  he  was  five 
years  old  he  could  read  any  chapter  in  the  Bible. 

After  his  return  to  Ireland,  he  was  sent  at  six  years  old  to  the  school 
of  Kilkenny,  from  whence  at  fourteen  he  was  admitted  into  the  univer- 
sity at  Dublin  ; where,  by  the  ill-treatment  of  his  nearest  relations,  he 
was  so  discouraged  and  sunk  in  his  spirits,  that  he  too  much  neglected 
some  parts  of  his  academic  studies  : for  which  he  had  no  great  relish, 
by  nature,  and  turned  himself  to  reading  history  and  poetry : so  that  when 
the  time  came  for  taking  his  degree  of  bachelor,  although  he  had  lived 
with  great  regularity  and  due  observance  of  the  statutes,  he  was 
stopped  of  his  degree  for  dulness  and  insufficiency  ; and  at  last  hardlv 
admitted  in  a manner,  little  to  his  credit,  which  is  called  in  that  col- 
lege, spcciali gratia.  And  this  discreditable  mark,  as  I am  told, stands 
upon  record  in  their  college  registry. 

The  troubles  then  breaking  out,  he  went  to  his  mother,  who  lived  in 
Leicester  ; and  after  continuing  there  some  months,  he  was  received  by 

•Le.  Jonathan  Swift,  Doctor  of  Divinity  and  Dean  of  St.  Patrick’s 


DEAN  SWIFTS  WORKS . 


670 

Sir  William  Temple,  whose  father  had  been  a great  friend  to  the  family, 
and  who  was  now  retired  to  his  house  called  Moor  Park,  near  Farnham, 
in  Surrey,  where  he  continued  for  about  two  years.  For  he  happened 
before  twenty  years  old,  by  a surfeit  of  fruit,  to  contract  a giddiness 
and  coldness  of  stomach,  that  almost  brought  him  to  his  grave  ; and 
this  disorder  pursued  him  with  intermissions  of  two  or  three  years  to 
the  end  of  his  life.  Upon  this  occasion  he  returned  to  Ireland,  by  ad- 
vice of  physicians,  who  weakly  imagined  that  his  native  air  might  be 
of  some  use  to  recover  his  health  : but  growing  worse,  he  soon  went 
back  to  Sir  William  Temple  : with  whom  growing  into  some  confidence, 
he  was  often  trusted  with  matters  of  great  importance.  King  William 
had  a high  esteem  for  Sir  William  Temple  by  a long  acquaintance, 
while  that  gentleman  was  ambassador  and  mediator  of  a general  peace 
at  Nimeguen.  The  king  soon  after  his  expedition  to  England,  visited 
his  old  friend  often  at  Sheen,  and  took  his  advice  in  affairs  of  greatest 
consequence.  But  Sir  William  Temple,  weary  of  living  so  near  Lon- 
don, and  resolving  to  retire  to  a more  private  scene,  bought  an  estate 
near  Farnham  in  Surrey,  of  about  one  hundred  a year,  where  Mr. 
Swift  accompanied  him. 

About  that  time  a bill  was  brought  into  the  House  of  Commons  for 
triennial  parliaments  ; against  which,  the  king  who  was  a stranger  to 
our  constitution,  was  very  averse,  by  the  advice  of  some  weak  people, 
who  persuaded  the  Earl  of  Portland,  that  King  Charles  the  First  lost 
his  crown  and  life  by  consenting  to  pass  such  a bill.  The  earl,  who  was 
a weak  man,  came  down  to  Moor  Park,  by  his  majesty's  orders,  to  have 
Sir  William  Temple's  advice,  who  said  much  to  show  him  the  mistake. 
But  he  continued  still  to  advise  the  king  against  passing  the  bill. 
Whereupon  Mr.  Swift  was  sent  to  Kensington  with  the  whole  account 
of  the  matter  in  writing,  to  convince  the  king  and  the  earl  how  ill  Ihey 
were  informed.  He  told  the  earl  to  whom  he  was  referred  by  his 
majesty  (and  gave  it  in  writing)  that  the  ruin  of  King  Charles  the  First 
was  not  owing  to  his  passing  the  triennial  bill,  which  did  not  hinder  him 
from  dissolving  any  parliament,  but  to  the  passing  another  bill,  which 
put  it  out  of  his  power  to  dissolve  the  parliament  then  in  being,  with- 
out the  consent  of  the  House.  Mr.  Swift,  who  was  well  versed  in 
English  history,  although  he  was  then  under  twenty-one  years  old, 
gave  the  king  a short  account  of  the  matter,  but  a more  large  one  to 
the  Earl  of  Portland ; but  all  in  vain  ; for  the  king,  by  ill  advisers, 
was  prevailed  upon  to  refuse  passing  the  bill.  This  was  the  first  time 
that  Mr.  Swift  had  any  converse  with  courts,  and  he  told  his  friends  it 
was  the  first  incident  that  helped  to  cure  him  of  vanity.  The  conse- 
quence of  this  wrong  step  in  his  majesty  was  very  unhappy  ; for  it  put 
that  prince  under  a necessity  of  introducing  those  people  called  whigs 
into  power  and  employments,  in  order  to  pacify  them.  For,  although 
it  be  held  a part  of  the  king's  prerogative  to  refuse  passing  a bill,  yet 
the  learned  in  the  law  think  otherwise,  from  that  expression  used  at 
the  coronation,  wherein  the  prince  obliges  himself  to  consent  to  all 
laws  quas  vulgus  elegerit. 

Mr.  Swift  lived  with  him  (Sir  William  Temple)  some  time,  but  re- 
solving to  settle  himself  in  some  way  of  living,  was  inclined  to  take 
orders.  However,  although  his  fortune  was  very  small,  he  had  a scru- 


ANECDOTES  OF  THE  SWIFT  FAMILY. 


671 

pie  of  entering  into  the  Church  merely  for  support,  and  Sir  William 
Temple  then  being  Master  of  the  Rolls  in  Ireland,  offered  him  an  em- 
ploy of  about  one  hundred  and  twenty  pounds  a year  in  that  office  ; 
whereupon  Mr.  Swift  told  him,  that  since  he  had  now  an  opportunity 
of  living  without  being  driven  into  the  Church  for  a maintenance,  he 
was  recommended  to  the  Lord  Capel,  then  Lord  Deputy,  who  gave  him 
a prebend  in  the  north,  worth  about  one  hundred  pounds  a year,  of 
which  growing  weary  in  a few  months,  he  returned  to  England,  resigned 
his  living  in  favour  of  a friend,  and  continued  in  Sir  William  Temple’s 
house  till  the  death  of  that  great  man,  who  beside  a legacy,  left  him  the 
care  and  trust  and  advantage  of  publishing  his  posthumous  writings. 

Upon  this  event  Mr.  Swift  removed  to  London,  and  applied  by 
petition  to  King  William,  upon  the  claim  of  a promise  his  majesty  had 
made  to  Sir  William  Temple,  that  he  would  give  Mr.  Swift  a prebend 
of  Canterbury  or  Westminster.  The  Earl  of  Romney,  who  professed 
much  friendship  for  him,  promised  to  second  his  petition  ; but  as  he 
was  an  old,  vicious,  illiterate  rake,  without  any  sense  of  truth  or  honour, 
said  not  a word  to  the  King.  And  Mr.  Swift,  after  long  attendance  in 
vain,  thought  it  better  to  comply  with  an  invitation  given  him  by  the 
Earl  of  Berkeley  to  attend  him  to  Ireland,  as  his  chaplain  and  private 
secretary  ; his  lordship  having  been  appointed  one  of  the  lords  justices 
of  that  kingdom.  He  attended  his  lordship,  who  landed  near  Water- 
ford, and  Mr.  Swift  acted  as  secretary  during  the  whole  journey  to 
Dublin.  But  another  person  had  so  insinuated  himself  into  the  earl’s 
favour,  by  telling  him  that  the  post  of  secretary  was  not  proper  for  a 
clergyman,  nor  would  be  of  any  advantage  to  one,  who  only  aimed  at 
church  preferments,  that  his  lordship,  after  a poor  apology,  gave  that 
office  to  the  other. 

In  some  months  the  deanery  of  Derry  fell  vacant ; and  it  was  the 
Earl  of  Berkeley’s  turn  to  dispose  of  it.  Yet  things  were  so  ordered, 
that  the  secretary  having  received  a bribe,  the  deanery  was  disposed  of 
to  another,  and  Mr,  Swift  was  put  off  with  some  other  church  livings 
not  worth  above  a third  part  of  that  rich  deanery  ; and  at  this  present 
not  a sixth.  The  excuse  pretended  was  his  being  too  young,  ahaough 
he  was  then  thirty  years  old* 


APPENDIX  II. 


ON  THE  DEATH 

OF 


MRS.  JOHNSON  (STELLA). 


HIS  day,  being  Sunday,  January  28th,  1727-8,  about  eight  o’clock 


at  night,  a servant  brought  me  a note,  with  an  account  of  the 
death  of  the  truest,  most  virtuous,  and  valuable  friend,  that  I,  or  per- 
haps any  other  person,  was  ever  blessed  with.  She  expired  about  six 
in  the  evening  of  this  day  ; and  as  soon  as  I am  left  alone,  which  is 
about  eleven  at  night,  I resolve,  for  my  own  satisfaction,  to  say  some- 
thing of  her  life  and  character. 

She  was  born  at  Richmond,  in  Surrey,  on  the  thirteenth  day  of 
March,  in  the  year  1681.  Her  father  was  a younger  brother  of  a good 
family  in  Nottinghamshire,  her  mother  of  a lower  degree  ; and  indeed 
she  had  little  to  boast  of  her  birth.  I knew  her  from  six  years  old, 
and  had  some  share  in  her  education,  by  directing  what  books  she 
should  read,  and  perpetually  instructing  her  in  the  principles  of  honour 
and  virtue  ; from  which  she  never  swerved  in  any  one  action  or  mo- 
ment of  her  life.  She  was  sickly  from  her  childhood  until  about  the 
age  of  fifteen  ; but  then  grew  into  perfect  health,  and  was  looked  upon 
as  one  of  the  most  beautiful,  graceful,  and  agreeable  young  women  in 
London,  only  a little  too  fat.  Her  hair  was  blacker  than  a raven,  and 
every  feature  of  her  face  in  perfection.  She  lived  generally  in  the 
country,  with  a family  where  she  contracted  an  intimate  friendship 
with  another  lady  of  more  advanced  years.  I was  then,  to  my  morti- 
fication, settled  in  Ireland  ; and  about  a year  after,  going  to  visit  my 
friends  in  England,  I found  she  was  a little  uneasy  upon  the  death  of  a 
person  on  whom  she  had  some  dependence.  Her  fortune,  at  that  time, 
was  in  all  not  above  fifteen  hundred  pounds,  the  interest  of  which  was 
but  a scanty  maintenance,  in  so  dear  a country,  for  one  of  her  spirit. 
Under  this  consideration,  and  indeed  very  much  for  my  own  satisfac- 
tion, who  had  few  friends  or  acquaintance  in  Ireland,  I prevailed  with 
her  and  her  dear  friend  and  companion,  the  other  lady,  to  draw  what 
money  they  had  into  Ireland,  a great  part  of  their  fortune  being  in  an- 
nuities upon  funds.  Money  was  then  ten  per  cent . in  Ireland,  besides 
the  advantage  of  returning  it,  and  all  necessaries  of  life  at  half  the 


ON  THE  DEATH  OF  STELLA. 


673 


?rice.  They  complied  with  my  advice,  and  soon  after  came  over  ; but 
happening  to  continue  some  time  longer  in  England,  they  were  much 
discouraged  to  live  in  Dublin,  where  they  were  wholly  strangers.  She 
was  at  that  time  about  nineteen  years  old,  and  her  person  was  soon 
distinguished.  But  the  adventure  looked  so  like  a frolic,  the  censure 
held  for  some  time,  as  if  there  were  a secret  history  in  such  a removal; 
which,  however,  soon  blew  off  by  her  excellent  conduct.  She  came 
over  with  her  friend  early  in  the  year  1701,  and  they  both  lived  to- 
gether until  this  day,  when  death  removed  her  from  us.  For  some 
years  past  she  had  been  visited  with  continual  ill  health  ; and  several 
times,  within  these  last  two  years,  her  life  was  despaired  of.  But  for 
this  twelvemonth  past,  she  never  had  a day’s  health  ; and  properly 
speaking,  she  has  been  dying  six  months,  but  kept  alive,  almost  against 
nature,  by  the  generous  kindness  of  two  physicians  and  the  care  of  her 
friends. — Thus  far  I writ  the  same  night  between  eleven  and  twelve. 

Never  was  any  of  her  sex  born  with  better  gifts  of  the  mind,  or  who 
more  improved  them  by  reading  and  conversation.  Yet  her  memory 
was  not  of  the  best,  and  was  impaired  in  the  latter  years  of  her  life. 
But  I cannot  call  to  mind  that  I ever  once  heard  her  make  a wrong 
judgment  of  persons,  books,  or  affairs.  Her  advice  was  always  the 
best,  and  with  the  greatest  freedom  mixed  with  the  greatest  decency. 
She  had  a«gracefulness  somewhat  more  than  human  in  every  motion, 
word,  and  action.  Never  was  so  happy  a conjunction  of  civility,  free- 
dom, easiness,  and  sincerity.  There  seemed  to  be  a combination 
among  all  that  knew'  her,  to  treat  her  with  a dignity  much  beyond  her 
rank  : yet  people  of  all  sorts  were  never  more  easy  than  in  her  com- 
pany. Mr.  Addison,  wrhen  he  was  in  Ireland,  being  introduced  to  her, 
immediately  found  her  out ; and,  if  he  had  not  soon  after  left  the 
kingdom,  assured  me  he  would  have  used  all  endeavours  to  cultivate 
her  friendship.  A rude  or  conceited  coxcomb  passed  his  time  very  ill, 
upon  the  least  breach  of  respect  ; for,  in  such  a case,  she  had  no 
mercy,  but  was  sure  to  expose  him  to  the  contempt  of  the  standers-by; 
yet  in  such  a manner  as  he  was  ashamed  to  complain,  and  durst  not 
resent.  All  of  us  who  had  the  happiness  of  her  friendship  agreed  un- 
animously, that,  in  an  afternoon  or  evening’s  conversation,  she  never 
failed,  before  we  parted,  of  delivering  the  best  thing  that  was  said  in 
the  company.  Some  of  us  have  written  down  several  of  her  sayings,  or 
what  the  French  call  bons  mots,  wherein  she  excelled  almost  beyond 
belief.  She  never  mistook  the  understanding  of  others  ; nor  ever  said 
a severe  word,  but  where  a much  severer  was  deserved. 

Her  servants  loved,  and  almost  adored  her  at  the  same  time.  She 
would,  upon  occasions,  treat  them  with  freedom  ; yet  her  demeanour 
was  so  awful,  that  they  durst  not  fail  in  the  least  point  of  respect.  She 
chid  them  seldom  ; but  it  was  with  severity,  which  had  an  effect  upon 
them  for  a long  time  after. 

January  29th.  My  head  aches,  and  I can  write  no  more. 

January  30th.  Tuesday. 

This  is  the  night  of  the  funeral,  which  my  sickness  will  not  suffer  me 
to  attend.  It  is  now  nine  at  night  : and  I am  removed  into  another 
apartment,  that  I may  not  see  the  light  in  the  church,  which  is  just 
over  against  the  window  of  my  bed-chamber. 


43 


674 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


With  all  the  softness  of  temper  that  became  a lady,  she  had  the  per- 
sonal  courage  of  a hero.  She  and  her  friend  having  removed  theii 
lodgings  to  a new  house,  which  stood  solitary,  a parcel  of  rogues, 
armed,  attempted  the  house,  where  there  was  only  one  boy  ; she  was 
then  about  four-and- twenty  ; and  having  been  warned  to  apprehend 
some  such  attempt,  she  learned  the  management  of  a pistol ; and  the 
other  women  and  servants  being  half  dead  with  fear,  she  stole  softly 
to  her  dining-room  window,  put  on  a black  hood  to  prevent  being  seen, 
primed  the  pistol  fresh,  gently  lifted  up  the  sash  ; and  taking  her  aim 
with  the  utmost  presence  of  mind,  discharged  the  pistol,  loaden  with 
the  bullets,  into  the  body  of  one  villain  who  stood  the  fairest  mark. 
The  fellow,  mortally  wounded,  was  carried  off  by  the  rest,  and  died  the 
next  morning  ; but  his  companions  could  not  be  found.  The  duke  of 
Ormond  had  often  drunk  her  health  to  me.upon  that  account,  and  had 
always  a high  esteem  for  her.  She  was. indeed  under  some  apprehen- 
sions of  going  in  a boat,  after  some  danger  she  had  narrowly  escaped 
by  water  ; but  she  was  reasoned  thoroughly  out  of  it.  She  was  never 
known  to  cry  out,  or  discover  any  fear,  in  a coach  or  on  horse-back  ; or 
any  uneasiness  by  those  sudden  accidents  with  which  most  of  her  sex, 
either  by  weakness  or  affectation,  appear  so  much  disordered. 

She  never  had  the  least  absence  of  mind  in  conversation,  nor  given 
to  interruption,  or  appeared  eager  to  put  in  her  word  by  waiting  impa- 
tiently until  another  had  done.  She  spoke  in  a most  agreeable  voice, 
in  the  plainest  words,  never  hesitating,  except  out  of  modesty  before 
new  faces,  where  she  was  somewhat  reserved  ; nor,  among  her  nearest 
friends,  ever  spoke  much  at  a time.  She  was  but  little  versed  in  the 
common  topics  of  female  chat  ; scandal,  censure,  and  detraction,  never 
came  out  of  her  mouth  : yet,  among  a few  friends,  in  private  conversa- 
tion, she  made  little  ceremony  in  discovering  her  contempt  of  a^  cox- 
comb, and  describing  all  his  follies  to  the  life  ; but  the  follies  of  her 
own  sex  she  was  rather  inclined  to  extenuate,  or  to  pity. 

When  she  was  once  convinced  by  open  facts  of  any  breach  of  truth 
or  honour,  in  a person  of  high  station,  especially  in  the  church,  she 
could  not  conceal  her  indignation,  nor  hear  them  named  without  show- 
ing her  displeasure  in  her  countenance  ; particularly  one  or  two  of  the 
latter  sort,  whom  she  had  known  and  esteemed,  but  detested  above  all 
mankind,  when  it  was  manifest,  that  they  had  sacrificed  those  two 
precious  virtues  to  their  ambition,  and  would  much  sooner  have  for- 
given them  the  common  immoralities  of  the  laity. 

Her  frequent  fits  of  sickness,  in  most  parts  of  her  life,  had  prevented 
her  from  making  that  progress  in  reading  which  she  would  otherwise 
have  done.  She  was  well  versed  in  the  Greek  and  Roman  story,  and 
was  not  unskilled  in  that  of  France  and  England.  She  spoke  French 
perfectly,  but  forgot  much  of  it  by  neglect  and  sickness.  She  had  read 
carefully  all  the  best  books  of  travels,  which  serve  to  open  and  enlarge 
the  mind.  She  understood  the  Platonic  and  Epicurean  philosophy,  and 
judged  very  well  of  the  defects  of  the  latter.  She  made  very  judicious 
abstracts  of  the  best  books  she  had  read.  She  understood  the  nature 
of  government,  and  could  point  out  all  the  errors  of  Hobbes,  both  in 
that  and  religion.  She  had  a good  insight  into  physic,  and  knew 
somewhat  of  anatomy ; in  both  which  she  was  instructed  in  hef 


ON  THE  DEATH  OF  STELLA. 


675 

younger  days,  by  an  eminent  physician,  who  had  her  long  under  his 
care,  and  bore  the  highest  esteem  for  her  person  and  understanding. 
She  had  a true  taste  of  wit  and  good  sense,  both  in  poetry  and  prose, 
and  was  a perfect  good  critic  of  style  : neither  was  it  easy  to  find  a 
more  proper  or  impartial  judge,  whose  advice  an  author  might  better 
rely  on,  if  he  intended  to  send  a thing  into  the  world,  provided  it  was 
on  a subject  that  came  within  the  compass  of  her  knowledge.  Yet 
perhaps  she  was  sometimes  too  severe,  which  is  a safe  and  pardonable 
error.  She  preserved  her  wit,  judgment,  and  vivacity  to  the  last ; but 
often  used  to  complain  of  her  memory. 

Her  fortune,  with  some  accession,  could  not,  as  I have  heard  say 
amount  to  much  more  than  two  thousand  pounds,  whereof  a great  part 
fell  with  her  life,  having  been  placed  upon  annuities  in  England,  and 
one  in  Ireland. 

In  a person  so  extraordinary,  perhaps  it  may  be  pardonable  to  men- 
tion some  particulars,  although  of  little  moment,  farther  than  to  set 
forth  her  character.  Some  presents  of  gold  pieces  being  often  made 
to  her  while  she  was  a girl,  by  her  mother  and  other  friends,  on  promise 
to  keep  them,  she  grew  into  such  a spirit  of  thrift,  that,  in  about  three 
years,  they  amounted  to  above  two  hundred  pounds.  She  used  to  show 
them  with  boasting  ; but  her  mother,  apprehending  she  would  be 
cheated  of  them,  prevailed,  in  some  months,  and  with  great  impor- 
tunities, to  have  them  put  out  to  interest ; when,  the  girl,  losing  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  and  counting  her  gold,  which  she  never  failed  of 
doing  many  times  in  a day,  and  despairing  of  heaping  up  such  another 
treasure,  her  humour  took  quite  the  contrary  turn  : she  grew  careless 
and  squandering  of  every  new  acquisition,  and  so  continued  till  about 
two-and-twenty  : when,  by  advice  of  some  friends,  and  the  fright  of 
paying  large  bills  of  tradesmen  who  enticed  her  into  their  debt,  she 
began  to  reflect  upon  her  own  folly,  and  was  never  at  rest  until  she  had 
discharged  all  her  shop  bills,  and  refunded  herself  a considerable  sum 
she  had  run  out.  After  which,  by  the  addition  of  a few  years,  and  a 
superior  understanding,  she  became  and  continued  all  her  life,  a most 
prudent  economist  ; yet  still  with  a stronger  bent  to  the  liberal  side, 
wherein  she  gratified  herself  by  avoiding  all  expense  in  clothes  (which 
she  ever  despised),  beyond  what  was  merely  decent.  And,  although  her 
frequent  returns  of  sickness  were  very  chargeable,  except  fees  to 
physicians,  of  which  she  met  with  several  so  generous  that  she  could 
force  nothing  on  them  (and  indeed  she  must  otherwise  have  been 
undone),  yet  she  never  was  without  a considerable  sum  of  ready  money. 
Insomuch  that  upon  her  death,  when  her  nearest  friends  thought  her 
very  bare,  her  executors  found  in  her  strongbox  about  one  hundred  and 
fifty  pounds  in  gold.  She  lamented  the  narrowness  of  her  fortune  in 
nothing  so  much,  as  that  it  did  not  enable  her  to  entertain  her  friends 
so  often,  and  in  so  hospitable  a manner  as  she  desired.  Yet  they  were 
always  welcome  ; and,  while  she  was  in  health  to  direct,  were  treated 
with  neatness  and  elegance  ; so  that  the  revenues  of  her  and  her  com- 
panion passed  for  much  more  considerable  than  they  really  were. 
They  lived  always  in  lodgings  ; their  domestics  consisted  of  two  maids 
and  one  man.  She  kept  an  account  of  all  the  family  expenses,  from 
her  arrival  in  Ireland  to  some  months  before  her  death  ; and  she  would 

43—2 


67 5 PEAK  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 

often  repine,  when  looking  back  upon  the  annals  of  her  household  bills^ 
that  everything  necessary  for  life  was  double  the  price,  while  interest 
of  money  was  sunk  almost  to  one  half ; so  that  the  addition  made  to 
her  fortune  was  indeed  grown  absolutely  necessary. 

[I  since  writ  as  I found  time.] 

But  her  charity  to  the  poor  was  a duty  not  to  be  diminished,  and 
therefore  became  a tax  upon  those  tradesmen,  who  furnish  the  fop- 
peries of  other  ladies.  She  bought  clothes  as  seldom  as  possible,  and 
those  as  plain  and  cheap  as  consisted  with  the  situation  she  was  in  ; 
and  wore  no  lace  for  many  years.  Either  her  judgment  or  fortune 
was  extraordinary  in  the  choice  of  those  on  whom  she  bestowed  her 
charity  ; for  it  went  farther  in  doing  good  than  double  the  sum  from  any 
other  hand.  And  I have  heard  her  say,  “ she  always  met  with  gratitude 
from  the  poor  which  must  be  owing  to  her  skill  in  distinguishing  pro- 
per objects,  as  well  as  her  gracious  manner  in  relieving  them. 

But  she  had  another  quality  that  much  delighted  her,  although  it 
might  be  thought  a kind  of  check  upon  her  bounty  ; however,  it  was  a 
pleasure  she  could  not  resist  : I mean,  that  of  making  agreeable  pre- 
sents ; wherein  I never  knew  her  equal,  although  it  be  an  affair  of  as 
delicate  a nature  as  most  in  the  course  of  life.  She  used  to  define  a 
present,  “ That  it  was  a gift  to  a friend  of  something  he  wanted,  or  was 
fond  of,  and  which  could  not  be  easily  gotten  for  money. I am  confi- 
dent, during  my  acquaintance  with  her,  she  has,  in  these  and  some 
other  kinds  of  liberality,  disposed  of  to  the  value  of  several  hundred 
pounds.  As  to  presents  made  to  herself,  she  received  them  with  great 
unwillingness,  but  especially  from  those  to  whom  she  had  ever  given 
anv  ; being,  on  all  occasions,  the  most  disinterested  mortal  I ever  knew 
or  heard  of. 

From  her  own  disposition,  at  least  as  much  as  from  the  frequent  want 
of  health,  she  seldom  made  any  visits  ; but  her  own  lodgings,  from 
before  twenty  years  old,  were  frequented  by  many  persons  of  the  graver 
sort,  who  all  respected  her  highly,  upon  her  good  sense,  good  manners, 
and  conversation.  Among  these  was  the  late  primate  Lindsay,  Bishop 
Lloyd,  Bishop  Ashe,  Bishop  Brown,  Bishop  Sterne,  Bishop  Pulleyn, 
with  some  others  of  later  date ; and  indeed  the  greatest  number  of  her 
acquaintance  was  among  the  clergy.  Honour,  truth,  liberality,  good 
nature  and  modesty,  were  the  virtues  she  chiefly  possessed,  and  most 
valued  in  her  acquaintance  : and  where  she  found  them,  would  be 
ready  to  allow  for  some  defects  ; nor  valued  them  less,  although  they 
did  not  shine  in  learning  or  in  wit  : but  would  never  give  the  least 
allowance  for  any  failures  in  the  former,  even  to  those  who  made  the 
greatest  figure  in  either  of  the  two  latter.  She  had  no  use  of  any  per- 
son’s liberality,  yet  her  detestation  of  covetous  people  made  her  uneasy 
if  such  a one  was  in  her  company  ; upon  which  occasion  she  would  say 
many  things  very  entertaining  and  humorous. 

She  never  interrupted  any  person  who  spoke  ; she  laughed  at  no 
mistakes  they  made,  but  helped  them  out  with  modesty  ; and  if  a good 
thing  were  spoken,  but  neglected,  she  would  not  let  it  fall,  but  set  it  in 
the  best  light  to  those  who  were  present.  She  listened  to  all  that  was 
said,  and  had  never  the  least  distraction  or  absence  of  thought. 

It  was  not  safe,  nor  prudent,  in  her  presence,  to  offend  in  the  least 


ON  THE  DEATH  OF  STELLA 


677 

word  against  modesty  ; for  she  then  gave  full  employment  to  her  wit, 
,her  contempt,  and  resentment,  under  which  even  stupidity  and  brutality 
were  forced  to  sink  into  confusion  ; and  the  guilty  person,  by  her  future 
avoiding  him  like  a bear  or  a satyr*  was  never  in  a way  to  transgress  a 
second  time. 

It  happened,  one  single  coxcomb,  of  the  pert  kind,  was  in  her  com* 
pany,  among  several  other  ladies  ; and  in  his  flippant  way,  began  to 
deliver  some  double  meanings  : the  .rest  flapped  their  fans,  and  used 
the  other  common  expedients  practised  in  such  cases,  of  appearing  not 
to  mind  or  comprehend  what  was  said.  Her  behaviour  was  very 
different,  and  perhaps  may  be  censured.  She  said  thus  to  the  man  : 
“ Sir,  all  these  ladies  and  I understand  your  meaning  very  well,  having, 
in  spite  of  our  care,  too  often  met  with  those  of  your  sex  who  wanted 
manners  and  good  sense.  But,  believe  me,  neither  virtuous  nor  even 
vicious  women  love  such  kind  of  conversation.  However,  I will  leave 
you,  and  report  your  behaviour  : and  whatever  visit  I make,  I shall 
first  inquire  at  the  door  whether  you  are  in  the  house,  that  I may  be 
sure  to  avoid  you.”  I know  not  whether  a majority  of  ladies  would 
approve  of  such  a proceeding  : but  I believe  the  practice  of  it  would 
soon  put  an  end  to  that  corrupt  conversation,  the  worst  effect  of  dul- 
ness,  ignorance,  impudence,  and  vulgarity  ; and  the  highest  affront  to 
the  modesty  and  understanding  of  the  female  sex. 

By  returning  very  few  visits,  she  had  not  much  company  of  her  own 
sex,  except  those  whom  she  most  loved  for  their  easiness,  or  esteemed 
for  their  good  sense  ; and  those,  not  insisting  on  ceremony,  came  often 
to  her.  But  she  rather  chose  men  for  her  companions,  the  usual 
topics  of  ladies*  discourse  being  such  as  she  had  little  knowledge  of,  and 
less  relish.  Yet  no  man  was  Upon  the  lack  to  entertain  her,  for  she 
easily  descended  to  anything  that  was  innocent  ana  diverting,  jwewa, 
politics,  censure,  family  management,  or  town  talk,  she  always  diverted 
to  something  else  ; but  these  indeed  seldom  happened,  for  she  chose 
her  company  better  : and  therefore  many,  who  mistook  her  and  them- 
selves, having  solicited  her  acquaintance,  and  finding  themselves  dis- 
appointed after  a few  visits,  dropped  off ; and  she  was  never  known  to 
inquire  into  the  reason,  nor  ask  what  was  become  of  them. 

She  was  never  positive  in  arguing  ; and  she  usually  treated  those  who 
were  so  in  a manner  which  well  enough  gratified  that  unhappy  disposi- 
tion ; yet  in  such  a sort  as  made  it  very  contemptible,  and  at  the  same 
time  did  some  hurt  to  the  owner?  ’Ybether  this  proceeded  from  her 
easiness  in  general,  or  from  her  indifference  to  persons,  or  from  her 
despair  of  mending  them,  or  from  the  same  practice  which  she  much 
liked  in  Mr.  Addison,  I cannot  determine  : but  when  she  saw  any  of 
the  company  very  warm  in  a wrong  opinion,  she  was  more  inclined  to 
confirm  them  in  it  than  oppose  *hrirr  ^he  excuse  she  commonly  gave 
when  her  friends  asked  the  reaaou,  , ‘‘That  it  prevented  noise,  and 
Saved  time.”  Yet  I have  known  her  very  angry  with  some  whom  she 
much  esteemed,  for  sometimes  falling  into  that  infirmity. 

She  loved  Ireland  much  better  than  the  generality  of  those  who  owe 
both  their  birth  and  riches  to  it ; and  having  brought  over  all  the  for- 
tune she  had  in  money,  left  the  reversion  of  the  best  part  of  it,  one 
thousand  pounds,  to  Dr.  Stephens's  Hospital.  She  detested  the  tyranny 


675 


DEAN  SWIFT'S  WORKS. 


and  injustice  of  England,  in  their  treatment  of  this  kingdom.  She  had 
indeed  reason  to  love  a country,  where  she  had  the  esteem  and  friend- 
ship of  all  who  knew  her,  and  the  universal  good  report  of  all  who  ever 
heard  of  her  without  one  exception,  if  I am  told  the  truth  by  those  who 
keep  general  conversation.  Which  character  is  the  more  extraordinary, 
in  falling  to  a person  of  so  much  knowledge,  wit,  and  vivacity,  qualities 
that  are  used  to  create  envy,  and  consequently  censure  ; and  must  be 
rather  imputed  to  her  great  modesty,  gentle  behaviour,  and  inofifensive- 
ness,  than  to  her  superior  virtues. 

Although  her  knowledge,  from  books  and  company,  was  much  more 
extensive  than  usually  falls  to  the  share  of  her  sex ; yet  she  was  so  far 
from  making  a parade  of  it,  that  her  female  visitants,  on  their  first  ac- 
quaintance, who  expected  to  discover  it  by  what  they  call  hard  words 
and  deep  discourse,  would  be  sometimes  disappointed,  and  say,  “ They 
found  she  was  like  other  women.”  But  wise  men,  through  all  her 
modesty,  whatever  they  discoursed  on,  could  easily  observe  that  she 
understood  them  very  well,  by  the  judgment  shown  in  her  observations, 
as  well  as  in  her  questions. 


v 


